HOW TO SAVE A LIFE

“The elderly are us, grown old, and their lessons for survival, even renewal, are our only preparation for the future.”
—Peter Stine, Editor of Witness

A majority of the inmates do not like the new 2007 version of me, preferring the older 2006 model, and suspected something might be slightly askew when they read the following question on my classroom board: Will the new year be the same as the old year? First, they protested that I no longer handed out full-length sheets of writing paper. Some even mumbled the following, “He’s a straight-up asshole.” Not that I needed to explain myself, but from past observations, the classroom assignments were not being completed. Instead, the paper was used for doodling on, writing rap lyrics, or writing letters home. Prisoner Brown went so far as to say, “I should write a grievance on you for not allowing us to do our work on regular sized paper.”

Before I could address his complaint, I told him to sit in a chair and not on the table. He’d been rather cantankerous since being released from segregation and refused to move. I said, “If, when you were in isolation, they brought you your food and instead of eating it, you chose to sling it at a corrections officer, it wouldn’t be long and you’d be getting your proper nutrients presented to you in a slightly different form.” He understood what I meant. Per policy, an inmate can not be denied a well-balanced meal. Thus, in this type of scenario, his food (perhaps a ham and cheese sandwich, cole slaw, and chips, with a glass of milk) would be mixed together in a blender and baked into a nice solid cake commonly known as nutriloaf. “I suggest you quit complaining, take the two half-sheets of paper, find a chair to sit in, and get to work.”

He refused to budge.

I told him about my younger days as a lifeguard. In order to pass my Water Safety Class and get a job as a lifeguard, I had to prove that I could rescue the instructor from the deep end of the pool. Not an easy task. He’d pull your hair, pinch you, choke you, and do whatever he could to stay above the water. But if you practiced the proper life saving techniques none of those things would occur.

“It’s like this Mr. Brown,” I said, “I’m not going to let you get a hold of me. I’m going to dive under water, spin you around, and ride-out your resistance. In fact, I’m going to bring you ashore alive, exhausted, and gasping for air ... or dead, your lips purple, your lungs full of water. Your choice.”

He smiled, and I decided to carefully bring him ashore.