Two Classrooms
In 1914, Dr. Howard B. Gill joined the administration of President Herbert Hoover as part of the Federal Commission on Prison Labor. As he learnt about the private prison industry, he decided to commit his life to prison reform. So, in 1927, Dr. Gill founded the Norfolk State Prison Colony. The Norfolk State colony was unlike any other prison that existed in that time; it was anointed the “prison without bars,” where prisoners would collaborate in a community-based setting to pursue a higher education. The “prison community” at Norfolk was at times indistinguishable from the society outside of it: it had a jazz band, an orchestra, a debating society, and a theatre troupe. Unfortunately, four inmates escaped from the Norfolk State Prison Colony and Dr. Gill was dismissed. In the coming years, America’s “tough on crime” ideology of the 1980’s would erase many of the programs that Norfolk State Prison Colony had first instituted.
One of the inmates of Norfolk State Prison Colony, Malcolm X, reflected on his time there: “I knew right there in prison that reading had changed forever the course of my life. As I see it today, the ability to read awoke inside me some long dormant craving to be mentally alive.” The same sentiments which inspired Dr. Gill, almost one hundred years ago are returning to our modern discourse on prisons. In 1997, San Quentin State Prison started the Insight Prison Project, a degree-granting educational program where prisoners could take college-level courses and obtain certifications within the correctional facility. This level of educational support was unprecedented; a majority of prison education programs provided basic education, not college-level coursework. Soon after, other universities began adopting their own prison-education opportunities including Yale, Georgetown, Princeton, Cornell, Wesleyan, and NYU. In 2014, Washington University started its own faculty-led program at the Missouri-Eastern Correctional Center to offer college classes to inmates, called the Prison Education Project.
The reason that these programs are coming back strong is clear: in 2015, the RAND Corporation concluded a landmark study which demonstrated that education lowered recidivism rates by 43 percent and that every dollar invested in correctional education saves five dollars in reincarceration costs over a three-year period. These studies inspired the Obama administration to grant prisoners eligible for release an educational opportunity through the Second Chance Pell program in 2016. In California, New Jersey, and New York, state legislators are proposing bills to expand opportunities for correctional education. The conversation around prisoners and the role of prisoners is evolving. Public debate is shifting towards the recognition that prisons can strive for rehabilitation, not just mass incarceration.
In a state like Missouri, where governor Eric Greitens signed a budget which cuts 1.7 million from prison education programs in 2017, this conversation is even more important. Wash U’s PEP stands to shape Missouri’s approach to prison education and its success could provide Missouri with an effective model for correctional education. Not only would engaging the prison community facilitate prisoners’ transition back into society, but it would also educate the Wash U faculty and students about the challenges that inmates face every day.
The prisoners valued their opportunity for education as much as their own lives. A professor of Argumentation at the MECC, Dr. Victoria Thomas, recounted that “the [prisoners] are unfailingly polite and courteous … they are quite protective of me … on one occasion I had to be out [in the yard] … and I could see that I was getting some catcalls and I suddenly saw bunches of my students walk very quickly up next to me and two of them engage me in conversation by standing on either side of me. And then four of them formed a sort of unofficial walking group around and I realized that they were basically giving the stink card to anybody who looked at me.” Dr. Thomas saw that the prisoners could see their educational opportunities through the MECC as their “ticket out” of the prison system. For many of them, demonstrating successful completion of coursework, a recommendation from a professor, and the skills they learn in each class are essential to finding work and leading stable lives. Prisons are often defined by a strict set of rules which are familiar to prisoners but can often confuse outsiders who engage these prisoners. On the podcast Ear Hustle produced by prisoners within San Quentin State Prison one prisoner, Adnan Khan, lamented how when he met his mom for the first time after thirteen years, it was hard for him to explain to her why there was a yellow line he could not cross when she went to buy him his favorite ice cream on the other side.
These arbitrary lines also shape the interactions that professors have with the prisoner-students. Eileen G’Sell, Professor of Writing at the MECC, highlighted her biggest struggle with teaching prisoners was “developing patience and greater flexibility to the environment.” Professor G’Sell discussed how it was often difficult how, “for example [she] might prepare for a class and there’s drug testing going on spontaneously or there’s some other logistical matters to attend to that affects the way classes are taught.” Although the PEP is working to create a computer lab, the MECC classrooms and the prisoners currently have no access to computers. The prisoners can only work on books and papers brought in by the professor. On of Dr. Thomas’ students missed class for three weeks since he was placed in solitary confinement. Another one of her students’ possessions were stolen every time he came to class. If the student retaliated, he would be punished and no longer be allowed to come to class; he could not fight back.
[pullquote]’I had one of my students miss class for three weeks. This was because he was in solitary confinement for two weeks.'[/pullquote]
Nevertheless, the prisoners and the faculty make do with the situations in which they find themselves. In one of Dr. Thomas’s Argumentation classes, she explains that the conversation “was going very nicely and one of them said something along the lines of ‘I’m bigger than you.’ I said: ‘Well, that’s just a straight forward ad hominem attack, and if that’s what we’re going to go with, you’re going to fail this class… I’m teaching you how to have civilized arguments that actually change people’s opinions rather than simply threatening them with your size. Everybody laughed [at the end].’” The prisoner-students and the professors do their best to challenge each other’s ideas and encourage intellectual discussion. Ms. G’Sell even recounted that most of the time her students at the MECC are more open to argumentation than her students at the University. “Having a student disagree with you happens so much more often [at the MECC]” she discusses, “[this disagreement] can lead to actual discourse on a level that is hard to come by.” There is intellectual capital and engagement which occurs within these restricted environments which is not part of our current discourse on correctional education. These prisoners are often isolated from their communities and are forced to introspect more than most members of society, so much so that their unique perspectives could bring value in academic and non-academic settings.
[pullquote]I said, ‘Well, that’s just a straight forward ad hominem attack, and if that’s what we’re going to go with you’re going to fail this class.'[/pullquote]
The correctional officers see the value of the education as well. Many of them have not completed high school or obtained the GED and they share the enthusiasm for the prisoners’ opportunity to access education. At the same time, there is tension between the prisoners’ access to education and the lack thereof for correctional officers. One correctional officer described to Dr. Thomas, “I’m making minimum wage. I have jobs and only money to send my kids to the community college. And so I’m ambivalent even though the prisoners are getting a good education.” In response, the PEP is offering more classes to the correctional officers so that they, too, can pursue an education. Courses can be taken for college credit at the MECC through U-College. Correctional officers are hurt by similar injustices that affect the prisoners even though they are in positions of power, so an arrangement where correctional officers can learn alongside prisoners helps create a more engaging, collaborative environment for rehabilitation. This model of co-educating prisoners and correctional officers is one which could broadly increase opportunities in other prisons, since the people who run the prison are also invested in the success of the program.
[pullquote]’I have jobs and only money to send my kids to the community college. And so I’m ambivalent even though the prisoners are getting a good education.'[/pullquote]
While the PEP is taking large steps to break down the barriers between Wash U and local prisons, an important group plays only a minor role in this community engagement effort: undergraduate students. A couple classes like Dr. Thomas’s Argumentation class at the university have the opportunity to visit the MECC as a co-curricular experience. The PEP is just starting programs to include undergraduates as research or teaching assistants for MECC courses. Outside of this there is little engagement between Wash U’s undergraduate population and Missouri’s prison population. Many of the university’s students are not familiar with the trials prisoners must go through to access basic features of society, such as education, Internet, cooking, etc. Established opportunities for undergraduates to interact with local prisoners are important for educating undergraduates about the criminal justice system: students will learn more from the first-hand experiences of prisoners than they can from any individual class. Furthermore, undergraduate involvement will add legitimacy to the PEP providing inmates educational programs that might otherwise be out of reach. As the Prison Education Program expands, there needs to be a coalition of undergraduate students who begin building a relationship with local prison populations. Expanded outreach through the undergraduate, graduate, and faculty members will re-shape the conversation around correctional education. It will make an indisputable argument for the expansion of correctional education elsewhere in Missouri.
Ishaan Shah ‘20 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. He can be reached at ishaanshah@wustl.edu.