College Campus or Prison Classroom?

I was lucky to be asked to be a part of a congressional workgroup in drafting the legislation that reinstated the Pell Grant for eligible incarcerated students. College is a game-changer when it comes to reducing recidivism and giving people the opportunity to better their lives. The implementation of the pilot of the Second Chance Pell Grant under the Obama administration was the gateway to the reinstatement, and forward-thinking correctional institutions across the country took advantage of reaching incarcerated students (the Pell Grant was denied to anyone incarcerated through legislation in 1994). We’re starting to see a resurgence of colleges and universities coming back into prisons with degree-bearing programs, and with the advent of secure technology like tablets, we see incarcerated students earning degrees via e-learning. It’s a brave new world.

It comes with some pretty hefty challenges, though. Partnerships between correctional institutions and institutions of higher education are sometimes like mixing oil and water. Consider paradigms: universities encourage…demand…free-thinking, provocative language, and challenging the status quo. Um, that’s about as opposite of what correctional institutions allow as you can get. It’s a problem, and when neither side can bend enough to meet in the middle, postsecondary programming can be a disaster.

Higher ed folks will say, constantly, that their mission is to create an environment, inside, that is as much like a college campus as possible. I totally get that. Once when asked at a symposium how I envisioned the building of a new jail, I responded, “build a school.” And I meant it. Want to reduce crime? Stop incarcerating 2.3 million people for insane numbers of years in institutions that are designed, on purpose, to warehouse bodies. Rant over. For now.

So I’m totally down with creating classrooms where free-thinking, provocative, status-quo challenging learning is going on. But the harsh truth is, it’s not a college campus, and while we can normalize experiences for incarcerated students for the two hours they’re in class, they aren’t on a college campus. In essence, as educators we are plopping our industry inside another industry, and since we’re the guest, we have to play by the rules of the industry in which we’re visiting. Simple as that.

Here’s how this looks. Correctional facilities have strict rules around the introduction of contraband. Naturally. My definition of contraband is anything that’s somewhere or with someone it’s not approved to be. Take something as simple as food. I can bring my lunch in to a prison, but once I share it with a resident, it’s contraband. If I ask before-hand to bring food in for residents and get approved, it’s not contraband. If I ask to bring in food to share with only one resident, the answer’s gonna be no, because that would raise some eyebrows as to why I have one single resident that I want to share food with. Get the picture? Correctional institutions are always going to put safety first. And come on, educators, we’re smart people. We can understand that. I’ve seen college professors try to sneak in scissors, money, cell phones…you name it. But more commonly, they want to break the rules in ways that are very college-like…calling residents after hours to chat on the phone without being on their list of approved callers, publishing work by a student, posting pictures of students, passing notes to students (usually with their phone number or address), sneaking in books to give to students to take back to their cell…and what’s weird about all of this, is that there’s a process by which you can gain approval for these things. Once you do any of the above without permission, you’re in trouble.

And once you’ve been sneaky, the correctional officers have you in their sights. Well, you’re sneaky, after all, and trust is now gone.

On the other side, some correctional institutions just love saying no, so no matter what the higher ed folks ask for, they get shot down, and now there’s no trust there. Educators are passionate and believe in their mission (which I feel compelled to say is as it should be…we know, empirically, that the number one factor positively effecting recidivism is…you guessed it…education), so when they repeatedly get told no for reasonable requests, they’ll find a way.

Can’t we just all get along?

A little common sense on both sides goes a long way. These two entities have to meet in the middle. There has to be a voice of reason on both sides (and a well-written MOA). Training on both sides is helpful, and this is some of my favorite work to do, helping postsecondary professionals and correctional professionals to understand how to work together. If you need help in this area, contact me. It’s a win/win when everyone works together.

Who’s the biggest winner? The students, of course. Opening the door to a postsecondary degree, with living wages, respect, and all of the knowledge and skills that come with it, is one of the most impactful programs we can offer people who never dreamed that door would be opened to them.

Enjoy your coffee or other morning beverage today, and while you’re sipping it, go ahead and engage in some provocative, status-quo challenging free-thinking. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.

Tallyho!