At that same Alternatives To Violence workshop, I met James
Davis. He was sentenced to twenty-five years to life for his participation in
a gun battle with New York City police in the subway. James and two officers
were injured; James’ brother was killed.
In his first years of incarceration he constantly was involved in conflicts
with guards and other inmates. James is a short man, probably not much more
than five feet tall, with a trim, powerful build. In the two meetings we have
had, he has talked about the transition he underwent, inspired partly by guards
and an older inmate. Over a period of years, he gradually began teaching literacy,
helping other inmates with legal issues, refereeing basketball, coaching boxing,
running the inmate pre-release preparation program, the Aggressiveness Response
Training program. He is now the Moslem cleric, or Iman, of Woodburne Correctional
Institute.
He said to me, "At first I didn’t think I would spend twenty-five
years in prison. I was sure I would get released through appeal or on parole.
But as the years went on, I gradually began to wonder if I would die in prison.
I decided that if I was going to die in prison, I was going to do the best I
could. Prisons are about hopelessness. The only way you develop hope in here
is by helping others, and doing it with sincerity. It softens you no matter
how tough you are."
I asked James about the role of beauty in his life.
“Last night, a bunch of guys were talking about the Parole Board and how
very few inmates have been released in the last couple of years. A feeling of
hopelessness and resentment takes over. You got to tax all your resources to
convince someone why it is important – even though you may not go home
– that you develop skills. Most of the guys want to listen, but you are
always going to have a person with a defeatist attitude. And these guys influence
other guys. And so the group can get chaotic and nothing gets done. But what
I really enjoy is when we have a guy who is unnerving the room, he don’t
want to listen, he knows everything, he always interrupts, and I put this guy
on check. And I get him to agree and he comes back unexpectedly and ask me to
help him, or ask somebody else to help him. That really makes me feel good.
That is beautiful.
“When a guy is trying to learn something, and he think that he can’t
get it, and I say, ‘If you keep working on it, practicing, all the sudden
a little light is going to go off in your head, all the sudden it is going to
be clear to you. One day you may smell something, or hear some music, or listen
to someone talk, and all of the sudden it is going to click. And then it come.
And then what happens, later on, the next day, or next month, or next year,
several years later, the guy might say to me, ‘You know what. That light
is shining in my head.’ And then he start laughing. To me that is beautiful.
I like that. It makes me feel good. It reinforces my sense of personal worth.
“I counsel a lot of young guys. Most of them look up to me because they
heard things about me. The length of time I have been in prison. Most of these
guys weren’t born when I came into prison. That is a little status I have
that I wish I didn’t. But anyway, they respect me. I say to them, ‘Do
you know what is to be in prison for twenty years? You don’t even dream
about the outside. There is always a wall in my dream. Or a guard walks by.
You don’t want to spend thirty years of your life in here. You got to
develop skills, network systems, with family or with others.’ Guys feel
defeated and give up on people outside of prison. Burn their bridges. . . .
“I believe that we are connected. All of us. One way or another. To a
lesser or greater degree. We have a responsibility toward each other. I have
to think this way. I think this way because of the person I am. I think this
way because of my religion. Religion teach me to look at things differently.
Most of us, we just look at our problems. We don’t even think about the
solution. We can’t see no further than the problem. Hopefully, I am beginning
to see past the problem.
“Everything certainly hasn’t worked right for me. There are times
I’ve felt like giving up. But when I look around, I can always see someone
who has it worse. The only person who got killed in my case was my brother.
No officers got killed. I know guys who go to the Board after five or ten years,
and they killed one or two people, and they get out. I tell myself that it is
not fair to make that comparison. The political climate now works against people
who committed high profile crimes, no matter what their record in prison is.
So I don’t get caught up in those circumstances. If you do, you feel sorry
for yourself. Then you lose track of what is really going on and you lose respect.
“Being in here, I have met a lot of good people, and some of them have
helped me see that I have some goodness in me. And I have been able to help
other guys see that they have goodness in them . . . . To know that a person
might have raped a child – I don’t like those things, man. But you
got to try to shelve that. Do I like that guy? No, I don’t like the guy.
But if I have to do something for him, I will do it. The system has hurt me
to a great extent, in terms of the length of time I have been in. But slowly
I began to realize that I have some personal worth. Most guys in prison, whether
they admit it or not, don’t think they have much personal worth. Particularly
those people with long sentences. But I tell guys that if you can breathe, you
can think, you can control who you are. That sense of self is important. If
I can touch a person in that way, I feel right. You learn how important a smile
can be in another person’s life. I might not be smiling because I like
prison. Maybe I am smiling to keep from crying. Probably. But a smile is still
worth it.
“They got a lady correction officer here who took me out on a hospital
trip. I overheard her talking to another officer and she said she wakes up every
morning at 4 am on the dot and the first thing she thinks about is how much
she loves life. And I am listening to this and think, ‘How could anyone
wake up every day feeling great and exuberant?’ And she said, ‘The
day might not be perfect, but every day starts out perfect.’ So I have
been trying that.
“Most people pray to their Lord when things is bad. I learned to count
my blessings every day. You got to count your blessings when everything is going
well for you. You got to thank your Lord. When you do that, blessings keep on
coming. You can’t wait until things are real bad, and then all the sudden
become pious. When you do that, it shapes your attitude, and people see it.
“I have learned from religion how to work on myself. I have a lot of shortcomings.
I recognize my shortcomings. Once I recognize how to overcome obstacles in front
of me, I try to do it. And then if I have an obstacle I can’t hurdle,
you let me know and maybe that will help me. Ask me some questions, give me
some strengths. Maybe I can jump over it that way. That is the attitude that
I take with myself. That is how I get through my days, how I do my bid.”
