It Works! Shhhh! Don't Tell Anyone!

During our recent snow, my boss asked me to submit an essay in lieu of my attendance at school.  For those who don’t recall, I’ve been teaching basic computer stuff to a bunch of prison malcontents (the incarcerated type) for the last few months and I was asked to “define correctional education.”  Unable to follow even the most basic instructions, I soon drifted onto a long-winded tangent about the public perception of correctional education.  I was happy to work the word “kneecapped” into the text.

Not wanting all of that writing to go to waste, I’m reposting the essay here:

I am afraid that I do not have any particularly insightful thoughts to lend toward a definition or description of correctional education.  Sadly for me (but thankfully for the rest of society), the reasons for undertaking the task of correctional education have been clearly described and defended, at length, by those with much more insight than me.  I do, however, have a few thoughts about the subject. 

When I have discussions about prison education with friends and family, the conversation almost always turns to politics.  I think that it is pretty much a given (among the informed) that there is a significant benefit to educating our inmate population, although we haggle over the reasons for attempting it.  Some suggest we do it to make up for the societal failure to educate prior to incarceration.  Others cite the lower risk of recidivism and still others claim that the primary benefit of education is to prepare an inmate for a more productive life upon release.  Of course, all of these factors (and others) contribute to the overall justification for pursuit of an educated populace of convicted felons.

Despite this, though, the notion of educating prisoners is distasteful to many.  In the US, higher education, like health care, is more frequently seen as a privilege and not a right (or expectation).  The prevailing attitude is that prisoners do not deserve the educational opportunities that we endeavor to provide—despite the benefits, long established by research and experience.  The cries of unfairness (“Why should a murderer get to go to college when my daughter can’t afford it?”) grow louder, especially in an economy that forces more prioritization on individuals and the governments that act on their behalf.  Oddly, perhaps, we are not hesitant to lament the availability of educational opportunities for offenders but we seem unable to, instead, demand greater access for the public at large. 

Consequently, the current public education model dictates that offender education is acceptable and worthy of public support only as long as it is been sufficiently kneecapped, providing a level of service sufficiently short of what’s available for the unincarcerated—even if the societal effect of this model is a net negative. 

Words color perceptions and perceptions, today, are given far too much weight.  Those advocating for access to correctional education are arguing the issue academically; accurately, objectively, and rationally describing the need and our ability to meet it.  Unfortunately, however, accuracy, objectivity, and rationale do not secure funding in today’s political climate.  Legislation, these days, is funded by emotion, fear, and, too frequently, ignorance.  Prison-related legislation is especially popular if it features some ill-defined revenge/repayment element.  The words used to describe the need for correctional education are only effective, now, if they prompt and then tap into those lesser responses.  To put it bluntly, educators will be most able to secure public support and funding when they are finally able to untether themselves from the research and successfully argue that “education is a great way to screw offenders.” 

The disconnect between what is effective and what gains public support is hardly a new phenomenon.  Since the early 1980’s, at least, the attitudes described above have prevailed and objective debate about the subject (among non-experts) has been largely silenced.  Certainly, there are some who are willing to stand up and proclaim the benefits of offender education, but they are usually shouted down by their noisier opponents.  It might be time to acknowledge that the debate, as currently framed, has been lost. 

That acknowledgment, however, does not mean that apologists must retreat from their principles, nor does it mean that they must ignore all of the good associated with an educated offender population.  What it does mean, though, is that supporters of correctional education should consider holding their noses and reframing the descriptions of their goals to pass the sniff tests of the opposed populace. 

Christmas lights cause tumors.

Christmas lights cause tumors!  Do something!

Carl's Jr. Followup

So today I ventured out on the town to run  a few errands and managed to find the lone Carl's Jr. in Snohomish County.  Positive California culinary experience fresh in my mind, I thought I owed it to the reader of this blog (me) to verify the authenticity of the local version of the Carl's cuisine.

I'm very pleased to report that my Famous Star was easily the equal of its SoCal brothers.  The Diet Coke was pretty horrible, but really, I didn't go there for the drink, so who cares.  Burger King owns the Diet Coke game in these parts.


Carl's Jr. is worth the thirty minute drive every once in a while, I think.  Next time?  Chili-cheese fries.

I Miss Phil Donahue

My experience this afternoon moderating the panel discussion at the prison between MCC staff and offenders made me realize how much I miss Phil Donahue.  His show, back in the day, was fantastic.  I remember much from his shows, particularly his series of dialogs with Vladimir Posner.  The Russians were real scary at the time and Phil managed to ameliorate my fear just a bit with those shows.  His shows alternated between controversial, funny, poignant, and topical and were usually more hit than miss.  It's kind of sad to see how the whole genre has devolved over the years.  Sadly, I don't think there's anything remotely like the old Donahue show anymore.  Our loss, really.  I can only imagine how much more informed we'd all be if he were still broadcasting in his old format.

California Vacation Burger Reviews

In & Out


In & Out was one of the to-do's on the trip.  I've never been there and I've read quite a lot about the place.  I prepared by locating the "secret" menu and read some tips on what to try.  I was a little confused, though, as Sandi told me that, according to the menu, I/O served their burgers with "hand leaf" lettuce.  Through five years in the produce business I never encountered hand leaf lettuce.  "Ohhhhh--hand leafED lettuce."  I think we were just outside Sacramento when we stopped.  


The first cool thing was the nice girl near the order intercom in the drive-thru.  She took our order.  There was no yelling involved.  +1 for I/O.  We ordered a few cheeseburgers; two regular, one Animal Style.  The picture windows into the kitchen were a nice touch, also.  Clean, busy, and well-staffed it was.  I love it when restaurant management understands that having a lot of available labor almost ALWAYS means better service, a better environment, better food, and a better bottom line.  Boston Market got that. Staffing your Burger King with one sweaty guy in the kitchen, one harried girl in the drive-thru window, and one disinterested teen in the lobby makes dining hit-and-miss at best.  I/O gets it, too, +1.


Our wait was longer than I'd have expected at a fast food restaurant, but was totally understandable considering the queue of cars.  Peeps were served as quickly as possible.  +1 for I/O.


"Are you going to be dining in the car?"  I was a little taken aback by that question.  But a positive answer got me some placemats and a tray containing our food instead of the paper bag I've come to expect. The burgers weren't completely wrapped, either, half-exposed.  This place was totally upsetting the fast-food paradigm and I kind of liked it.  +1 for I/O.  


The fries were horrible.  We've been spoiled by Dick's Drive-In and these, despite their similar fresh-cut origin, were not in the same league.  Milkshakes reminded me of McDonald's old shakes.  You ever have a shake that's so smooth and airy that it tastes "warm?"  That's what came to mind at I/O.  


The burgers were good.  Not great, but good.  The mustard-fried patty was an interesting touch that I'll be trying at home one of these days, but the combination of that with the other added stuff didn't make the burger that much better than the regular.  It was better, though.   

I think I wanted more goo.  I'm not exactly sure what kind of goo; maybe cheese goo or mayo goo, or even bun goo.  The burger needed more goo, though, to counter the vegetables.  The caramelized onions and sauce just weren't cutting it.  Still, it was better than most fast food restaurants' burgers. 


Overall, I was a bit disappointed.  I'd half expected to lift the bun and stare into the eyes of god.  Okay, maybe my expectations were a touch on the high side.   I made a second stop at the I/O in Redding on the way back.  Give 'em points for consistency between locations.  Nothing was different at the second location.  I'm glad I visited.




Carl's Jr.


I've also never been to Carl's Jr.  I'm not going to ramble on about my experience there, as it was pretty much identical to my experience at every other fast food restaurant.   I will say, however, that my bacon cheeseburger there was much better than what I had at I/O.  Crazy, I know.  So was the second one I had on the way back home.  

Their cheese was a bit "off," though.  It was a very rich American that I don't think I've had in a very long time.  It reminded me of what American Cheese tasted like when I was a kid.  Still, given a choice to visit I/O or Carl's Jr. in the future, I'll be driving my car up to Carl's window.




Wendy's


Sandi wanted to stop at Wendy's in Eugene, Oregon, on the way home.  We don't go there very often. I think I can recall one prior trip to Wendy's in the last seven years.  I tried one of their new "Baconators." 

Yuck.  Good bacon, awesome bun, horrible meat, lukewarm, the same odd cheese as Carl's Jr., and no veggies to speak of.   I'm not anxious to return.  




Anyway, after it all, I'm more impressed with Dick's Drive-In.  

I can't say, anymore, that I don't know how they do it (because I DO know how they do it), but I do know that, while I will drive 40 miles just for a Dick's Deluxe, I wouldn't do the same for a Cheeseburger Animal Style.  It just wasn't compelling enough.  Judging from the number of Carl's Jr. restaurants in CA, I don't think I'd ever have to drive that far to get one of their more superior burgers. 

Never Forgetting is Bullshit

Driving 3,000 miles up and down the west coast in early September, I saw no small number of handy reminders about the events of 9/11/01.  The most common refrain (especially in the rural areas) was a plea to "never forget."  Really?  Is that the extent of our obligation as a citizenry?  To simply apply a few brain cells to the act of remembering?  Actually, now that I think about it, "never forgetting" requires even less effort than actually remembering, a real life verb.

It sort of reminded me of our instructions shortly after the attacks nine years ago to go shopping.  That was how we were to protect our republic and the ideals it was based upon.  Because nothing pisses off Osama more than a trip to Best Buy.

Aren't we setting the bar a little low, here?  Shouldn't we spend more time learning, preparing, and fixing?  I know that's harder, but isn't that a course of action that better honors those who were murdered?  I know we Americans like it to be real easy.  I also know that we prefer the obvious to the correct.  But, even taking the more selfish route, isn't 9/11 (and the threat of future 9/11's) important enough to our own personal well-being to actually burden ourselves with proper reflection?

I spent September 11th traveling through California on the most lengthy vacation I've had in many years, so there were enough distractions to keep me away from the business of memorializing the relevant events.  However, it's impossible, for me at least, to let the anniversary of the attacks pass without considering how and why they've changed my world.  I'm certain that those that hate us will visit our shores again and, eventually, hurt us worse than they did in September 2001.  I'm also pretty certain that attack will come from within--perpetrated by angry Americans.  Regardless, I think we are very poorly served by the mandate to "never forget."  We'd be much better off we spent a little more time considering all of the signs we ignored on the way to 9/11 instead of the grotesque that was 9/11.  At least then we'd be better armed to spot the same signs, many of which are currently on display, again, right in front of our eyes.

I’ve briefly spoken about this to some friends and coworkers, but it’s time to put it out there for the whole world—or at least the three people who’ll actually read through this. Here’s the deal: I want walls back. As a gender, men have, essentially, given up walls to women and tradition. And, ladies, while I love YOU, I don’t like how you’ve chosen to make use of our wonderful gift of vertical shelter. I want them back. Under your care, they’ve become little more than a repository for knick-knacks and photo-frames and dried grass arrangements. I’ve had it. I want my walls back.

Isn’t there SOME way to make a wall useful? I mean, I understand the whole shelving thing, but, ultimately, that just turns into a more convenient way of storing the aforementioned bric-a-brac. I want NEW ideas; NEW efficiencies; a NEW WALL PARADIGM!

This is where I call upon those with an opinion and even those taking the baby-steps toward developing one: what is the answer? How can I make USE of my walls?

Here’s what I have so far:

· One wall in my home is for viewing moving images from an overhead HD projector. Let’s call this the “Home Theater” wall.

· There are various bits of Velcro scattered on other walls throughout the house, each with a mate, generally attached to a remote control, charger plug, or something else small, electronic, valuable, and best kept out of the reach of children

· One wall has a couple of guitars hanging from it.

EVERYTHING else is photos, elementary paintings/drawings (adorable, yes), calendars (like I ever use those), shelves, decorations, paint, and unidentified bits of kid-flung crud. Windows don’t count. If I could live in a glass house without an overwhelming sense of guilt, I would—trust me.

APPLY YOUR COLLECTIVE BRILLIANCE TO MY PERSONAL NEEDS, PEOPLE!

kisses!