A Cell of Understanding

     I feel a call to enter into the cell of understanding--a prison cell, a prisoner's life.  I know little of the terrain of prisons--of prison life.  Yet, one person I know has a key to open the cell, if I am willing to enter.
     The terrain?  Of one individual, an 8' x 11' cell, which is shared with another individual.
     The rhythm?  Unexpected lockdowns of unknown duration.  I make no judgments of or apologies for past actions.  Such distracts from the energy I may devote to understanding.  My job is not to judge.
     Where is--what is--the key to the cell of understanding?
     Relationship.   Curiosity.  Interest.  Questions.  Answers.  Relationship.  Commitment.  Interest.  Curiosity. Questions. Answers.  The cycle continues.  So long as commitment breathes, the cycle continues.
     The questions I ask, and the answers I hear are true to me alone.  Yet, others may engage themselves with a prisoner to ask the questions--to hear the answers--specific to their commitment, interest, and relationship.
     My questions?  Answers given to me?
     How big is the cell?  8' x 11' What connection to the outside world do you have? Limited telephone calls to approved phone numbers.  Limited computer time.  No Internet.  An e-mail system.  Periodic in-person visits from approved visitors.
     A new vocabulary.  BOP.  Bureau of Prisons.  FCI.  Federal Correctional Institution.  Lockdowns.  Racial tensions.  Stabbings.
     My understanding is scant best.  As is true often, knowing the right questions to ask that can open the cell of understanding, without wanting to do ANYTHING that will violate the unknown boundaries of censored mail--email, or postal mail--that the prisoner may receive.
    A cell of understanding is beginning ever so slowly to be opened.  I must build a vocabulary--I must become literate, so that I may open a cell of understanding.