Realization? Forced empathy, perhaps?

So I was stuck in the ridiculous traffic on Tuesday that was the result of the sky bursting open and showering the valley of the sun with massive amounts of rain and hail. I have pictures that I will have to share once I figure out how to do that....but I digress from the real point of this post.

I work in a prison. I have come to find a small amount, I believe, of understanding of how it must feel to be incarcerated. On Tuesday, I think I was shown a small glimpse of what a prison sentence must be like.

At around 5:40pm on Tuesday, I exited I-10 and merged onto the ramp that takes cars, trucks, motorcycles, and busses to I-17. About 40 yards onto the ramp, I came to a complete stop. I could see that traffic was backed up as I approached the ramp, but I figured it was only temporary (right?) so even if I had to wait a bit, it would be okay. I have to wonder if this is akin to what some of my co-workers thought about the crime they committed. They could see it wasn't the best choice, but thought they would get away with it, or worse, even if they got caught, it wouldn't be that bad.

I made a choice and I was going to have to stick by it. There was no turning back. It was still daylight out at this point, so I could see that traffic was not moving over the entire half mile or so that the ramp covered. There was still a trickle of cars moving north on I-17, so there was a bit of hope.

Then the trickle stopped and there was no traffic moving at all.

I wonder if that is how it feels to be sentenced to a long stint in prison? I know it must be a million times worse, of course, if not a billion, but I did say that I feel as if I have gotten a small glimpse of what incarceration must be like. I was stuck. I could go nowhere. I was in my SUV (don't hate me) and there was no place to go.

I could see this long, vast, motionless line of vehicles in front of me, much like the days, weeks, months, and years of a long sentence. All of those would have to move (or go away) for me to get to where I wanted to be. They weren't moving. They weren't going anywhere and I was resigned to the fact that I was not going anywhere either. The radio was not giving me any indication of why traffic was like it was, so I was clueless as to what was going on, except with the knowledge that I was going to have to wait my turn.

I was pretty calm, actually. I don't get a lot of quiet time to myself, so at first, I was at peace. This is where I'm sure my situation is very different than someone who is incarcerated for the first time. I highly doubt that there is much of a sense of calm for them, but maybe, in some cases, there is. If you had lived a pretty rough life, I can see where prison might bring a semblance of order. Horrible order, albeit, but order just the same. I know for a fact that for some of the women I work with, prison is a much safer place for them than the life they led outside of the gates.

It took almost three hours for me to get home. I didn't really start to get anxious until I was almost off of the ramp. Vehicles were exiting the ramp at a snails pace and as I got closer and closer, I got more anxious. I was also incredibly hungry, so maybe that was fueling my anxiety. I have seen ladies who were just days or weeks from the gate experience the same type of anxiousness. The last few miles home seemed like the longest....

Maybe I am crazy, but I think it would be remiss of me to not take advantage of the learning experience and use it to help me be better at my job.