Thankful for Freedom

I am NOT an expert yet, I've only been working inside the prison for three days.

But every day, at the end of the shift, I walk out of my classroom (locking it behind me), through a door at the end of the hall (locking it behind me), and then out of my building (locking it behind me). I wait by an enormous, heavy door with a bulletproof window in it, until a guard throws a switch that opens it. I return my keys to the guard through another bulletproof window, and then wait by a second heavy door, which only the guard can open (this type of entrance/exit is called a sally port; it prevents anyone from leaving the prison without direct supervisory acknowledgement of someone who is completely removed from the person leaving. It is sobering to read the rules that explicitly say no hostage-takers will every be allowed to leave the prison).

For the hours I am at work, things are calm, pleasant. The inmates I see all are very well-behaved. There is an almost child-like, elementary atmosphere to the exchanges with them, as they genuinely seek favor and regard from the staff at the school.

But the lessening of freedom inside is tangible. Like a blanket that settles on your heart, a dimming of the light. It is wearying.

And breathing the free air again is exhilerating. I am Theoden, sundered from Saruman's grip. I am a child, running through a field.


I often ponder the tension between the concepts of freedom and obedience. The difference between freedom and chaos. Perhaps on another day (or in a different month), I can ruminate on those distinctions.

Today, I am grateful that I am free. What a wonderful country, in a wonderful world, where we can exert ourselves with such freedom.