Friday, March 9, 2012

Stripping yourself of your rights


I escorted a group of 7th grade boys (mine included) to a local park today to run around the rocks and trees and just "be boys" instead of staring at their computer screens.  We got to the closest park only to discover some sort of fire fighting crew clearing trash and underbrush.  They had shovels and picks, one had a chainsaw and another was dragging away a dirty rug we saw there earlier in the week.  They were all wearing orange and staring at us in a rather challenging way, as if daring us not to approach any closer.  Only then did I realize that they were there courtesy of the California Department of Corrections - prison labor if you will.

Sensing this was not a place to linger, we crossed the bridge to the park on the other side of road and I perched myself on a rock as planned to read my book and quietly supervise the the pre-teen revelry.  My gaze lifted to the other park across the 4 lane roadway and saw the prison crew had taken a break and was similarly perched on rocks . . . . watching me, watching them.

They were a good distance away, and I have to assume properly supervised, so I didn't feel threatened but wondered, what choices led them to the other side of the road.  I did some research on Dept. of Corrections Fire Crews and found that the candidates are only chosen if they are non-violent offenders.  (good!) They can earn $1.45 - $3.90 per day, not much when you consider how hard they may work sometimes, but, they are outside on a beautiful day instead of locked in a cell. Perhaps they should pay us for the privilege?

What are their crimes?  My guesses include car theft, robbery, welfare or insurance fraud, drug offenses, or vandalism.  When we lived near the orange groves, I used to marvel at the "industrious" people that sold bags of oranges on the roadside.  We used to call their product "BMO - black market oranges" cause we knew they acquired them illegally - but I figured if I was really desperate for money to feed my family, I would sell BMO too.  What ever it took.  It's a shitty economy and people are desperate.  Who am I to judge?

So I sat there, in my newly purchased orange T-shirt from Target, gazing at the prison labor in their old sweaty orange T-shirts - grateful that my choices have been better than theirs - but all of us appreciating a beautiful day.

There but for the grace of god go I.