|
Ron Jackson's Perspective
The Sunday Journal -
Think
Kankakee, Illinois
February 16, 2003
Flashlight shines
on me, rats! |
 |
|
I had planned to write about
the shuttle tragedy this week, but events of the last weekend
changed that plan and my perspective on life.
Saturday and Sunday, Feb. 8-9, 2003 will be forever
indelibly etched in my little brain like 9-11. On Saturday,
Feb. 8, I had the opportunity to speak at two Central Illinois
Department of Corrections facilities, one male and one female.
With my well-prepared speech in hand, I was going to
give my most positive talk ever. However, when I came face to
face with the 200 plus prisoners, they were no longer just inmates,
criminals or undesirables. They were human beings, all of
them. They didn't look like thugs. They looked like my
brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, aunts and uncles and
cousins. They had names and smiles and eyes.
It was sobering. So much so, I forgot what I had
prepared to say. During the women's session, I had to ask them
all to pray that God would help me because I was suddenly lost.
Somehow I made it through.
After I spoke, I sat and looked at their faces, and I
asked, "God, where did they all learn to make such bad choices?"
I left that day with a greater appreciation for my
freedom and my life.
Sunday, Feb. 9, came early. Up at 5:30 a.m.,
coffee perking, radio tuned to my local station, I waited for my
morning paper. In less than an hour I was all set to enjoy my
day.
Then I heard my name and the publication that carries
my column, The Sunday Journal, coming from the radio. The
speaker was using my Jan. 12, 2003 column about Jesse Jackson as its
topic for the day. It was flattering. Then I heard the
speaker make a reference about me and a jungle rat. I laughed
because I have been compared to a rat's behind before, but never the
whole animal.
The voice went on to say, "rats can be irritating."
I have been told I was sometimes irritating before, too. The
preacher went on to say that "rats can be best handled with
flashlights and baseball bats."
I stopped laughing immediately. My initial
thought was, "Oh God. I know that 99% of the prison population
has a religious affiliation, but please don't tell me those hopeless
faces I saw in DOC are there because they learned to make bad
choices from church leadership."
I became troubled because the man speaking through my
radio was the head of the largest and most influential black church
in my community. Furthermore, this man had just participated
in the mayor's clergy committee to focus on ways to reduce youthful
crime. This man was also the newly appointed leader of
Operation PU$H in Kankakee County. I was sad because this man
never mentioned prayer as a means to deal with human rats such as
me.
It was also disturbing to hear the encouragement for his violent
inference coming from some members of his congregation. The
same congregation that annually partners with Olivet Nazarene
University to celebrate the birthday of the guru of nonviolence,
Martin L. King, Jr., was now advocating the use of flashlights and
baseball bats on me for merely expressing my opinions. I can't
imagine what violence this membership would support if I put gum
underneath the church pew.
It will be difficult for me now to place the blame for
our over-crowded prisons solely on absentee parents, poverty and
lack of education without adding church leadership and civil rights
groups to the equation.
Yes, Feb. 8-9 changed my life forever. I now
realize that prisoners have faces and names to go along with the DOC
number, and every time I see a person from my hometown, I will look
at their hands for a flashlight or baseball bat and wonder what
church they belong to. Now I see why we really need prayer
back in school. Maybe it's because prayer is not in church
anymore.
|
|
|
Thanks for stopping by! |
|
|
Home
| About | What's New |
Books | Columns |
Archives |
Seminars | Search |
Contact |
| |
|
|
|
