THREE HOTS & A COT

I have this theory on why prisoners live a better life than the rest of us. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out. I used to call it the "Fat, Dumb, and Happy" Theory after a eureka moment I'd had while walking with my wife at the Ann Arbor Arts Fair. I had told her, "I envy that guy over there," gesturing toward some slovenly, unkempt man smiling at the sun, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth with his untied shoes firmly planted on the sidewalk. My wife seemed puzzled until I said, "Not a care in the world."

It's a strange outlook for sure, an outlook I've used several times in my classroom to get the attention of my students. I'll say to an inmate, "Sir, unlike my sorry ass existence, you have it all, and I admire you for that." I get the usual suggestion, "Let's trade places then," and my response, "If only we could." Next, I'm off and running with a mathematical concept that I'd once learned in an Early American Literature class. I grab a marker and start my list.

"Give me three things that are absolutely necessary for us to survive."

After some conversation, my class comes up with the following: food, water, and shelter. We agree to lump clothing in with shelter (seems to be the only flaw in the Thoreau concept I'm using). I write these three items under the heading "Need." Next, I ask an inmate to tell me what materialistic object he'd like to have. Under the heading "Have" I list different objects: car, boat, gun etc. Then the fun begins. I write the following equation on the board: "Have/Want."

"Okay, so let's say you now have a car. What makes the car run properly?" I write their answers under want: gas, oil, windshield wiper fluid, etc. My equation changes: 1 car/3 items, or in simpler terms 1/3. The exercise continues: "What happens if the tires wear out or the windshield wiper blades go bad?" "Get some new ones," someone suggests. Once again the equation changes: I now have a car, gas, oil, windshield wiper fluid, new blades, and new tires, but the list of items wanted increases, new spark plugs, timing belt, air filter ... The equation continues to change over time as we continue to accumulate more things: 1/3 becomes 6/15 becomes 23/47 and so on and so on. My mathematical illustration, I tell them, fluctuates as we grow older.

I drag this exercise on for as long as I can, before refering back to the intial inmate that I stated had it all. "If you could change your wants to equal your needs, then what happens?" I write the following on the board: "Wants=Needs" and "Have/Need." "If you have food, clothing and shelter, and it fulfills your needs, then what does your equation look like?"

I get a blank, impassive stare. "Isn't the formula now three over three? And what does that equal, sir?"

"One," he says proudly.

"Correct, sir. One whole life. While I'm caught up in the rat race living a fraction of a life, you sir have it all, and I admire you for that."

He says, "Yeah, but you got your freedom!"

And I ask, "Do I?"