HIGH RATIO FAN RESISTANCE

Once in a very blue moon, an inmate will say to me, “You’re probably the best teacher I’ve ever had,” and my typical hurried response: “What do you want?”

I’m not comfortable with compliments because in the prison system most words and actions are calculated maneuvers. Maybe the inmate wants to soften me up so he can get some typing paper or a calendar or a stick of gum—although gum requests seemed to have dropped off lately due to my gross display of offering them the chewed piece in my mouth.

I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I have a difficult time accepting praise. After fifteen years of working in a correctional facility, you tend to view things from a different perspective, you become cynical, and your habits seemed to get altered—like sitting with your back to the wall and facing the exit while dining in a restaurant—your optimism slowly transforms into pragmatism or worse. No Pollyanna glad games here; afterall, doesn’t Pollyanna die in the end? No one’s going to snuff me out early without a fight. At least in the restaurant I can crawl under the table during a hold up and fight for my survival.

Now that I’ve thrown all my self-loathing and negativity to the wind, I’d like to publicly thank Ellie for her kind words. If you haven’t already read what she had to say about me, I suggest you have a look for yourself: Ellie's praise. Also, if you leave her a comment, I beg of you: Don’t talk about me. Heaven forbid that the truth comes out.

Thanks for keeping me motivated, Ellie. PS “How much do I owe you?”