Folsum Prison Blues

And I ain't seen the sunshine,
Since, I don't know when,
I'm stuck in Folsom Prison,
And time keeps draggin' on
-- Johnny Cash

I was at a workshop today at which they quoted the research/statistic that in California they use third grade reading test scores to predict the number of prison beds they will need down the line. That absolutely horrified me. Almost to the point of tears. One of my first thoughts was to share this information with my Baby Girl. And her boyfriend. If there was ever a point where Law Enforcement (her profession) and Education (his and mine) crossed, this was it. And then I started to think about it some. How could I have been in this profession this long and never had heard this before? So I went online and started looking for more information on this...

Several websites and articles quoted later...I came to the conclusion that this is an urban myth, but that everyone agrees that the prison population as a whole has a much lower reading level, a much lower educational level, and a much higher drop out rate. Go figure.

So as I work on my superintendent's license, one of the areas in which I have to show competency is in the area of health and social service agencies in the community that work with schools. That's only part of it. It's forming those partnerships with these agencies to help kids when their parents can't or won't. It's overcoming poverty and what they call the "educational gap". It's competing with the media and all the other distractors that are more attractive than the hard work of learning. It's figuring out how to teach students who don't have the language skills, who have ADHD, Alcohol Fetal Syndrome, are Cocaine Babies, or have any other host of difficulties when we are not supposed to leave any child behind.

And why do we do it? Because I've seen amazing results when teachers care. When teachers provide one-on-one attention. When parent volunteers intervene to help a child who is not their own. Because we refuse to let a child slip through the cracks. Because we see small steps and we know if we keep at it, those small steps will turn into big things. The hard part is that we only get them for nine months at a time. We can only hope that someone will continue what we start, and that those big things will come to fruition and that drugs or poverty or dropping out or mental illness or any other myriad of problems won't get in the way.

When I was just a baby,
My Mama told me, "Son,
Always be a good boy,
Don't ever play with guns,"
But I shot a man in Reno,
Just to watch him die.

My teaching partner, every once in a while, used to look out over our class and ask, "Who do you think will be in prison 20 years from now?" We had a few pegged for prison, one boy in particular. Not because he couldn't read, but because he was so attracted to the thrill, the adrenaline rush, of getting in trouble. And he liked the attention that being the bad kid got him. And it became my goal to figure out how to get through to those kids. Figure out how to connect with them, and get personal with them. Because it's only when you do that, that you can figure out how to make a difference for them.