When the Road to Prison is a one-way Street

Did you know that 90% of people who are in the criminal justice system (probation, parole, prison) live below the poverty line? The criminal justice system in Georgia, as in other states has a definite imbalance with the incarceration rate tending to be the lower-income population. People with wealth have the ability to purchase appropriate legal representation. Although the criminalization of poverty is in fact systematic across the United States, the south has the highest incarceration rates. At any given time, there are 750,000 people in the United States who are detained for the inability to purchase their freedom.  These victims are crying out from behind the wall and no one hears their screams.

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 Whispers of Justice

Alone in the system without a hope to hold on,

He wished, on that day, he wouldn't have gone.

Bond set at $5000, he knows there's no way,

He'll sit, and he'll wait until his trying day.

There will be no visitors, no letters in the mail,

He ponders on life. How could he have failed?

On top of the world, riches he pursued,

Women and cars and guns he accrued.

But, as we all know, what goes up must come down,

At night, he so wished he could sleep safe and sound.

He was stuck at the bottom, no one to give him a hand,

Shaking his head, this is not what he planned.

A small gust of wind, a quick image in his head,

His foreseeable future, and he saw himself dead.

He stood straight up, arched his back, head high,

He won't lose this battle without giving it a try.

He walked in that courtroom confident and strong,

Twelve peers have decided, it didn't take long.

So he stood and faced this group who in their hands held his fate,

Knowing none of them could ever relate.

Then comes the foreman, he takes a deep breath,

Guilty for selling and trafficking meth.

His heart sank deep to the pit of his soul,

He did not show a reaction. They cannot see him fold.

As he stared blankly at the clock above the bench,

They all found him guilty, and he did not even flinch.

His heart in his chest beats so hard and so strong,

His demeanor, his attitude, he knows this is wrong.

As the judge stands up to speak him his fate,

Thirty whole years to do to the gate.

The last bit of breath released from his lungs so fast,

Thirty whole years he would never last.

His composure now, he feels so defeated,

The confidence he carried so quickly depleted.

What about his little baby, just born not long ago,

What about his wife, his mom? What about his little bro?

What does one say once deemed property of the state,

Everything they ever had all snatched right from their plate.

Some may think that is the end and another one bites the dust,

It seems like that at first, with no one left for him to trust.

His wife moved on without him, throws his child in his face,

He sits in there so patiently with warmth and love, and grace.

This story is based on facts, put them together, and you will see,

The person in this poem? Easily you or me.

When you fall victim to the system, no one will help you if you're broke,

Another dollar in their pocket. To them, you're just a joke.

I'm telling you the truth, look around, and you will find,

Do not roll over or give in, do not keep being blind.

~Anna Shepherd

You see, the man in this poem could very easily be you or a loved one... Unless you have lived a life without sin and you have never broken the law. Open your eyes people, the system is corrupted. We must educate ourselves now before we fall victim to the same prejudice. 

Myth: I will Never Go To Prison

    Our whole lives we strive to stay out of trouble. From the time we are born, our parents constantly instill in us the morals and ethics that impress upon the independent person we become. I was raised that way, my parents still together, neither one ever been to jail. We were the "All American" family. Growing up, I have no memory of my parents ever struggling to take care of us (me and my little brother who is 4 years younger than me). My parents always displayed a strong marriage, if they ever had issues, we were never subjected to it. So, growing up my parents did everything right, the rest was up to me.

       It started toward the end of middle school... peer pressure. I was a natural at conforming to my environment. I did everything in my power to be anything except the "All American Girl" my parents expected. The first time I got in trouble in my entire life was on December 5 of eighth grade. A friend of mine smoked weed (I had never even seen it) and she had some rolling papers. I told her I needed some so I could smoke so she gave me a few. I had to show everyone so that they thought I was cool, someone told on me. I got called to the principal's office, they searched my stuff and found the rolling papers, I got suspended for three days. The look of disappointment in my daddy's eyes will stay with me forever, the first time I ever saw him look that way, but unfortunately, not the last.

    A lot of people learn from their mistakes, that is a part of growing and evolving as a human being. I am not one of those people, I repeatedly made the same mistakes over and over. In ninth grade, I was in Biology Class. An associate of mine informed me that he had some LSD. I passed him the cash for two "hits." The teacher saw him pass something to me and grabbed it from me. She walked out of the classroom into the hall, opening the paper expecting to read whatever the note said we were passing. She realized this was no note at all and immediately contacted the administrator. I was in real trouble then. I had to appear with my parents in front of the school "panel" and they suspended me for the remainder of the school year. I went to alternative school for more than half of my ninth grade year.

    I learned something from that incidence. I learned not to trust people, so I didn't. My life remained as a teenager's life should: boyfriends and freedom. I graduated high school in 2000 but not before my first arrest. My first job I worked as a pharmacy tech at the pharmacy up the street. The kids at school all took Xanax and pain pills and I had access to all of that. I started stealing the pills off the shelf in the pharmacy and selling them to the kids at school. I was making so much money, you couldn't tell me I wasn't rich. I will never forget the "Precious Moments" figurine I bought my parents for their 25th wedding anniversary. My mother looked at me, knowing I didn't afford this by my part time pharmacy job. One day, I went to work and a guy with a suit was waiting on me. He explained that he knew I had been stealing pills. Around 30 bottles were unaccounted for. I wasn't arrested at that moment but turned myself in a few days later. My daddy was waiting to bail me out as soon as I was booked in. Walking through the last door to freedom, my father was standing there waiting on me. It was the middle of the night but he wouldn't leave me there if he could help it. At this point, the disappointment was gone, he was heartbroken and confused.

This is my first Mug Shot, the "B" is because it was posted in the local "Bad and Busted" newspaper with other people arrested in the same time frame.

  

  I went to court on the charges a few months later and was placed on probation for five years under the "First Offender's Act." Under this act, as long as you complete probation with no other issues, the felony will not be a part of your permanent record. My parents paid a lot of money to hire an attorney that played golf with the District Attorney to keep me out of prison. Four years and nine months later, I violated the probation with a new, more serious felony. I sold 1 and 1/2 grams of cocaine to an undercover police officer. My father came to my rescue, hiring another attorney. This time, prison couldn't be avoided. I was sentenced to ten years to serve one and five years to serve one, they ran it concurrent. I was incarcerated for seven months, being released from the worst female prison in Georgia.

    These events cover the first half of my life. I turned 21 while in the state penitentiary. I am, now forty. It took me going through pure hell and back before I finally decided to live as a decent human being. The other half of my story is coming, depending on how this one does. I love to write, especially poems. I will post one of my favorites some time in the near future. See you next time and stay out of trouble!