From Glamour:
Carrie Jones couldn’t climb out of the van.The ride between her former unit and this one hadn’t been more than a couple of minutes, but she was nauseated. hadn’t been more than a couple of minutes, but she was nauseated. Until then, it hadn’t all seemed so extreme, like such a break with what she’d become accustomed to over more than two decades in prison.
Sure, she’d had to pack up her stuff, but she’d done that “50,000 times,” she says. And true, she’d had to fill out some forms—that was fine, too. She’s more relaxed on paper, she tells me (with an ease that belies her claim.) A “ferocious reader,” as she puts it, she’s accrued more than 80 credits in the Wesleyan University Center for Prison Education initiative, despite the fact she had completed just her GED when she was was sentenced in 1997.
It was the van that set her off. Around her, women shouted and laughed. Jones was silent. “I couldn’t move. I was just sitting there, thinking, ‘I’m stuck.’” When the vehicle stopped, prison staff had to pull her from her seat. Jones had known that her routine would be different now; it’s the reason she hadn’t wanted to be part of the new unit at York Correctional Institution in Connecticut. She liked her schedule, her books, her hours alone. Continue reading >>>
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