A New Outlook

Karen Tran
Just Learning
Published in
4 min readApr 11, 2020

What? My eyes were locked onto the screen as I was watching the docuseries, “College Behind Bars,” by PBSS. This 4 hour screening focused on the lives of prisoners and their role in the Bard Prison Initiative (BPI), a educational program that allowed prisoners to gain a college education and recieve their Associate’s or Bachelors’ degree. By the end of if, I gained a newly awakened perspective to the world behind bars and how much education meant for certain people.

The Bard Prison Initiative takes place at Bard College that enrolls over 300 students in liberal-arts programs. The students take a variety of general education courses, ranging from literature to learning a new foreign language. Eventually, they are able to choose a major to focus on during their academic careers.

What struck me the most about the students is how they reflected on their personal history and delved into how it molded them as a person. One of the prisoners, Giovannie Hernandez spoke about how he was robbed of of his educational experience. On his first day of middle school, he saw a student chase someone with a switch blade and even ended up being jumped a few times during his first year. As a result, he had to become violent in order to defend himself, pushing all academics aside in order to simply survive. “I didn’t feel like a part of society. I didn’t feel like a citizen. I had no idea what a citizen was supposed to do; what sort of duties and responsibilities they had to others.” It was shocking enough to hear about his experience, however it made me think of the big picture — there are students out there who are currently going through the same thing that Hernandez did. It makes me wonder, how did things get this way? Why isn’t there as much support as there should be for such serious matters? The disparities of education are simply disappointing, however it is sources like this documentary that provide a voice to these systemic problems and ignite a movement for reformation. These students deserve better quality of education than what we are able to provide them at this moment.

There was definitely a lot of backlash against BPI. Much of the public questioned why we were giving college education to people who have done wrong — who have tarnished society — when the funds going towards this could be proved useful elsewhere. When receiving the prisoners’ opinion, Peter Lopez’s input stood out to me, “They named this thing the Department of Corrections. How could you correct someone if you’re taking the very tools that actually correct and rehabilitate the individuals that you want to be protected from?” I definitely resonated with this statement. It may seem counterintuitive to provide a privilege for those who have a negative reputation in society, but what Lopez stated was true. We cannot possibly expect someone to walk out with shift in ideals when there are no facilitating factor that push them in the right direction. What also stood out to me was how determined the prisoners were to remain in the program. To them, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to evolve as a person and prove that their actions did not showcase who they truly are.

One of the scenes that truly tugged on my heartstrings was the commencement ceremony. Sebastian Yoon’s speech was very heartwrenching, as he apologized to his family because he believed he had disgraced their name. It made me realize that when you’re locked behind bars all day, finding hope is the the key. Many of the prisoners’ motivation throughout their sentence was being able to see their family outside someday. By going through with the program, they are able to rehabilitate and create a new identity — one that they are proud to share with the world.

So What? Miguel and Ke’s stories were always at the back of my mind as I was watching this documentary. One universal theme that I discovered between these sources are the fact that they did not let their past define who they are as a person. Yes, it’s a part of their history, but one bad decision does not mean they are unable to grow and evolve as individuals. Watching the documentary truly personified Miguel and Ke’s experiences — they have gone through such trials and tribulations just to get the point they are at today and I realize how incredibly strong of them it was to keep the ounce of hope that they had throughout their sentences. As I learn more about the stories between prison and education, I feel as if I have been taking education for granted. I complain about how much work I have to complete and how I easily lose motivation. These narratives gave me a true wake up call to appreciate what I have because there are people out there who would do anything to be in my position. The prisoners in the BPI program showed absolute signs of determination, willpower, and strength, which makes me want to work harder for the academic opportunites that I have been privileged enough to receive.

Now What? Re:Store Justice is an organization created in 2017 inside San Quentin State Prison by Adnan Khan, Alexandra Mallick, and Sara Sindija. They work with incarcerated people, survivors of crime, district attorneys, and the community in order to re-imagine the justice system as one of inclusion and healing. They provide services such as survivor support, implications of restorative justice, advocacy work, as well as media work. Their organization focuses on the overarching issue of violence — from how to respond to it, how to heal from it, and how to combat misinformation.

An interesting concept I found is one of the media projects that they have called “First Watch.” Started at San Quentin State Prison, this project delved into the personal narratives of those who were incarcerated and the steps taken inside the prison walls to transform the quality of its system. One of the unique characteristics about this is that it is entirely created by prisoners residing in San Quentin.

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