Why I take my college students to prison | Ann Frost | TEDxUofW

Transcriber: Mohammad Alfawaqa Reviewer: Nanditha Kumar Years ago, I was getting ready to drive to the prison where I volunteer when my daughter asked me what I would do there that day. She was about six years old at the time, so

I wanted to answer her in a way that she could understand. I told her I would be meeting with the members of the prison book club, that we'd start by sharing a rose and a thorn.

Something going well for us, something not so good. And then we'd talk about the book with wide eyes and a serious tone, she asked, “Will they be in their cages?” I almost laughed, but then I realized that her question was not only insightful, but it was indicative

of the way that people think about incarceration. I needed to answer in a way that she would understand, and that would show her that the people in the book club are just like her, people who want to learn.

My daughter's question about cages is really a reflection of how people think about incarceration. It's true that incarcerated people spend a lot of their time in a cell about the size of a walk in closet, but it's the association of cages with animals

that's really problematic. When we think of a cage, we think of its occupant as being dangerous, uncontrollable, inhuman. The association of cages with animals perpetuates the stereotype of the violent, irredeemable criminal who's beyond rehabilitation, who would not

and could not engage in learning. What I actually did in answering my daughter's question that day was to paint a picture for her of what it's like when I go inside the prison. I told her I'd meet the members of the book

club in a room that's like a classroom. It has tables and chairs and a whiteboard. We’d greet each other with smiles and handshakes, and we’d talk about the book. We were all just going to be there to learn

together. Today, when I think about what I do in the prison and why, I know that my own personal background has brought me to where I am today. I'm a nearly 30 year resident of the city of

Seattle, but I grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, at a time when crime was at its height in this country. I grew up alongside friends and family who were involved in the criminal legal system, many of them being victims

of crime, many being the perpetrators of crime and many being incarcerated from time to time. My background informs everything I do today. Part of my work involves running book clubs in prison for incarcerated people and UW students.

Each year, as the students get ready to go inside the prison for the very first time, they're anxious. They’re aware that they don’t want to intrude on the place where the incarcerated people live. They want to be respectful.

My goal in preparing the students to go inside for the first time is to contrast and balance the training that they get from the Department of Corrections. So we talk about the practical aspects of a visit to the prison, the rules for what we can and

cannot wear, what we can take inside the prison, which is nothing. The feeling of entering into a space and hearing a heavy metal door clang shut, locking you inside. It is important, I tell them to let go of

any curiosity about why these people are there, locked inside the prison. It is okay and even productive to ask ourselves, why do we have the privilege of walking into the prison for a book club meeting and then walking out free

just two hours later when our classmates have to stay there. Some of them for the rest of our lives. But for now, we're classmates. We're equals, and we're there to have a conversation.