Teaching in Prison

Katherine:  The Teacher's Pet

He who opens a school door closes a prison.  --Victor Hugo

Mr. Hugo, I am not so naïve to think that education alone would eliminate crime.  But having taught literacy to a handful of women in an African prison, I wonder if my students had had the chance to go to school, perhaps things would have turned out differently for them.

Take Katherine* for example.  She is a mother and a grandmother, and when I met her in September, she didn't know her ABCs or how to write her name.  Although I am not allowed to ask why women are in prison, she told me.  She was sentenced to a year in jail for selling marijuana.

Katherine's letter after 3 months of class.

I show up twice a week and teach, so women like Katherine have a chance to learn. Christine, my side-kick joins me. Our class meets outside on picnic tables.

There isn't much to the prison:  the cell block, the restrooms, and the muddy/dusty courtyard.  There is now a one-room preschool for children and a sewing room for the tailoring program.

There is a whole lot of life happening here:

• Women cooking maize porridge on charcoal burners and scrubbing laundry in tubs.
• A group of toddlers climbing on a pile of 15 meter long re-bar and chasing each other with sticks.
• A woman butchering a chicken a few meters from my class.
• Thousands of flies swarming everything.
• Women in my literacy class learning to write their ABCs.

During Christmas I hauled in an African Christmas tree and we made decorations.  I asked people to write something they were thankful about on a tag, and hang it on a branch.

African Christmas Tree

Then Alex and Isaac's school did a Christmas fundraiser for me. We were able to buy three iSchool androids.  They cost about $200 each and they contain the entire Zambian curriculum in multiple languages for grade 1-7.   These magic tablets make my job easier, because I don't have to lesson plan for a revolving door of students at different levels.

iSchool Tablets

The other day I met Katherine as she was released from prison.  I dropped her off at the bus station, (where I took her photo) and she headed off to re-start her life.  She was my most eager and faithful student, so it was bittersweet to see her leave.

Katherine tells me prison changed her.  She found God in a place "that I hate."

It won't be an easy journey, but who am I kidding?  These women that I meet each week are tough--tougher than I could hope to ever be.

All I can do is pray they understand that they can learn to read, no matter how old they are.

They we just need to give to give them a chance.

*Name is changed