Nicegy525
07-10-2006, 08:29 PM
Here is an essay I wrote in my college English class. Feel free to read it and take whatever message you receive from my experiences.
Perceptions
When I was eighteen, I was given the opportunity to experience my first jail cell. Stealing thirty-two thousand dollars probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Getting caught after what I did devastated my life. I had never been in trouble before and all of a sudden I was thrown into a world which I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I spent twenty-three hours a day in a cell as big as a bathroom with two very scary people. Five days later I was released on bail. Going through the court process took several months. I felt the weight of judgment as my closest friends stopped calling me because of what I did. I had become a criminal and nobody could trust me again. The judge passed his sentence and sent me to a special program designed to rehabilitate young first time offenders. I was off to Boot Camp.
Upon arriving at Boot Camp I quickly realized I was in for a long and hard six months. The staff members immediately had me pegged as someone who wouldn’t make it through the program. The other inmates saw this too. I was very young, only eighteen, and very immature. Most of the inmates were between twenty-three and forty-nine. I was also very skinny, weighing about a hundred and fifteen pounds. Most every one thought the program was going to be too hard for me and I was going to drop out. Since the only other option for me was to go to prison for a year, I committed myself to sticking it out and suffering for 6 months. Suffer I did…
On a typical day I was awake at 4:30 in the morning and on the track running three miles by 5:15. By 6:30 we were eating breakfast, and an hour later we were ready for morning inspection. After flag ceremony it was time to work hard at raking leaves in the wind or sweeping water in the rain until lunch time at 10:30. After a four minute lunch it was more labor until the afternoon when it was time for another three mile run. After dinner it was more work, usually cleaning up the mess we made during the day. I would work all day until 8:30, sometimes 10:30 at night.
On top of the intense physical requirements, we were held to a very high standard of cleanliness and order. Daily inspections were conducted of our beds, bathrooms and clothing in our lockers. Our beds were made to strict specifications within a quarter inch of accuracy. The blankets were tucked in so tight you could bounce a quarter off them. Our lockers were always spotless with not a trace of dust. Clothes were folded to exact measurements and every hygiene product and item had its own place. Boots were polished so shiny we could use them to shave in the morning. The bathrooms were absolutely spotless from ceiling to floor, which is quite an accomplishment considering forty-five men used it every day. I endured excruciating pain and soreness from all the running and the seemingly endless amount of push-ups. Any time someone messed up or got into trouble, the whole team was “broken off” and had to suffer through whatever punishment the staff member saw fit. Sometimes it was one hundred push-ups, and sometimes it was worse. One night I was so sore I had to have someone help me up into my bed. I went through horrible taunting and jeering from the other inmates, who had become my teammates. I bore many responsibilities which often caused the staff members to put pressure on me. Working in the kitchen, I was responsible for handling the vegetable prep. department. I handled preparing the salads and any vegetables needed for the cooks. Also, I was responsible for the cleanliness of the department and the veg. prep. cooler and receiving shipments of produce twice a week. It was a heavy burden keeping everything up to the standard required. However, I was determined to stay away from the real prison and the day finally came to graduate and go home. It wasn’t until that day that several staff members and inmates came up to me to confess they had thought I wouldn’t make it. I had gained their respect for what I had accomplished. I knew all along I was going to make it because that was the only option I left myself in my mind. So, having graduated from six months of boot camp and being sufficiently prepared to go out into the world, I headed home to find a job and be successful.
Coming home and looking for a job presented me with a whole new set of problems and challenges. I no longer faced the prejudices of other inmates. I faced the prejudices of employers and the challenge of getting past the question that is on just about every job application: “Have you ever been convicted of a felony?” Answering this question in the affirmative immediately sends up a red flag to the employer that tells him I’m not trustworthy. It doesn’t really matter what I did, only that I committed a crime and hence I cannot be trusted. It doesn’t matter that I went through an intense program that only a few have the opportunity to experience, or that through this program I gained many qualifications and certifications for a variety of jobs. I spent two weeks searching, six days a week, all day for anything I could find. In that short amount of time I must have filled out and placed over thirty-five different applications at various businesses. On each application I took extra care to emphasize my skills and qualifications as an excellent worker with an excellent reputation and excellent personal references. I handed out countless resumes, made numerous phone calls and talked to many different people, hoping one of them would offer me a chance to prove myself and apply the things I had learned in boot camp; but all felt hopeless and futile. For a while it seemed I was doomed to make a career out of flipping burgers and asking: “ Would you like fries with that?” However, the discipline and persistence I had gained in boot camp paid off. I managed to find someone willing to give me a shot, an opportunity to work towards a good career.
The man who decided to hire me happened to know a bit about people who are trying to straighten their lives. He used to be one of them and knows all about the challenges they face and how many times people give up. However, those who have the spark, go on to succeed and overcome their environment. He hired me to help out with keeping his auto-body shop clean and to do various other duties. Nine months later, I am now helping to manage a major fleet account, helping to manage transportation and running the detail shop. So having proved my friends wrong about my character, having proved the staff members and my teammates wrong about my inner strength, discipline and persistence, I now face the challenge of proving my boss right. He saw a spark in me and thought I might be of some worth. I think he’s right.
Perceptions
When I was eighteen, I was given the opportunity to experience my first jail cell. Stealing thirty-two thousand dollars probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Getting caught after what I did devastated my life. I had never been in trouble before and all of a sudden I was thrown into a world which I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I spent twenty-three hours a day in a cell as big as a bathroom with two very scary people. Five days later I was released on bail. Going through the court process took several months. I felt the weight of judgment as my closest friends stopped calling me because of what I did. I had become a criminal and nobody could trust me again. The judge passed his sentence and sent me to a special program designed to rehabilitate young first time offenders. I was off to Boot Camp.
Upon arriving at Boot Camp I quickly realized I was in for a long and hard six months. The staff members immediately had me pegged as someone who wouldn’t make it through the program. The other inmates saw this too. I was very young, only eighteen, and very immature. Most of the inmates were between twenty-three and forty-nine. I was also very skinny, weighing about a hundred and fifteen pounds. Most every one thought the program was going to be too hard for me and I was going to drop out. Since the only other option for me was to go to prison for a year, I committed myself to sticking it out and suffering for 6 months. Suffer I did…
On a typical day I was awake at 4:30 in the morning and on the track running three miles by 5:15. By 6:30 we were eating breakfast, and an hour later we were ready for morning inspection. After flag ceremony it was time to work hard at raking leaves in the wind or sweeping water in the rain until lunch time at 10:30. After a four minute lunch it was more labor until the afternoon when it was time for another three mile run. After dinner it was more work, usually cleaning up the mess we made during the day. I would work all day until 8:30, sometimes 10:30 at night.
On top of the intense physical requirements, we were held to a very high standard of cleanliness and order. Daily inspections were conducted of our beds, bathrooms and clothing in our lockers. Our beds were made to strict specifications within a quarter inch of accuracy. The blankets were tucked in so tight you could bounce a quarter off them. Our lockers were always spotless with not a trace of dust. Clothes were folded to exact measurements and every hygiene product and item had its own place. Boots were polished so shiny we could use them to shave in the morning. The bathrooms were absolutely spotless from ceiling to floor, which is quite an accomplishment considering forty-five men used it every day. I endured excruciating pain and soreness from all the running and the seemingly endless amount of push-ups. Any time someone messed up or got into trouble, the whole team was “broken off” and had to suffer through whatever punishment the staff member saw fit. Sometimes it was one hundred push-ups, and sometimes it was worse. One night I was so sore I had to have someone help me up into my bed. I went through horrible taunting and jeering from the other inmates, who had become my teammates. I bore many responsibilities which often caused the staff members to put pressure on me. Working in the kitchen, I was responsible for handling the vegetable prep. department. I handled preparing the salads and any vegetables needed for the cooks. Also, I was responsible for the cleanliness of the department and the veg. prep. cooler and receiving shipments of produce twice a week. It was a heavy burden keeping everything up to the standard required. However, I was determined to stay away from the real prison and the day finally came to graduate and go home. It wasn’t until that day that several staff members and inmates came up to me to confess they had thought I wouldn’t make it. I had gained their respect for what I had accomplished. I knew all along I was going to make it because that was the only option I left myself in my mind. So, having graduated from six months of boot camp and being sufficiently prepared to go out into the world, I headed home to find a job and be successful.
Coming home and looking for a job presented me with a whole new set of problems and challenges. I no longer faced the prejudices of other inmates. I faced the prejudices of employers and the challenge of getting past the question that is on just about every job application: “Have you ever been convicted of a felony?” Answering this question in the affirmative immediately sends up a red flag to the employer that tells him I’m not trustworthy. It doesn’t really matter what I did, only that I committed a crime and hence I cannot be trusted. It doesn’t matter that I went through an intense program that only a few have the opportunity to experience, or that through this program I gained many qualifications and certifications for a variety of jobs. I spent two weeks searching, six days a week, all day for anything I could find. In that short amount of time I must have filled out and placed over thirty-five different applications at various businesses. On each application I took extra care to emphasize my skills and qualifications as an excellent worker with an excellent reputation and excellent personal references. I handed out countless resumes, made numerous phone calls and talked to many different people, hoping one of them would offer me a chance to prove myself and apply the things I had learned in boot camp; but all felt hopeless and futile. For a while it seemed I was doomed to make a career out of flipping burgers and asking: “ Would you like fries with that?” However, the discipline and persistence I had gained in boot camp paid off. I managed to find someone willing to give me a shot, an opportunity to work towards a good career.
The man who decided to hire me happened to know a bit about people who are trying to straighten their lives. He used to be one of them and knows all about the challenges they face and how many times people give up. However, those who have the spark, go on to succeed and overcome their environment. He hired me to help out with keeping his auto-body shop clean and to do various other duties. Nine months later, I am now helping to manage a major fleet account, helping to manage transportation and running the detail shop. So having proved my friends wrong about my character, having proved the staff members and my teammates wrong about my inner strength, discipline and persistence, I now face the challenge of proving my boss right. He saw a spark in me and thought I might be of some worth. I think he’s right.