Before I started hanging out with the Bad Girls, I hung out with the Original Bad Girl. In the eighth grade my best friend (and current Blog Follower) was a trouble maker of the first degree. I was a Bookworm even then, and our fellow middle schoolers were always amazed at what a pair we made. Nevertheless while my pal was into older boys and recreational activities that terrified me, we still got along famously. We loved listening to my mom’s old records and she laughed at my (bad, even then) jokes.
We fell out of touch after high school. She had a two-year old by then and I went to college in Indiana, a state most people in my high school had never really heard of. Years later I had an extra Christmas card and was looking through my address book for someone to send it to. I found her mom’s address and sent the card. I got a letter back months later from jail.
As we became pen pals, I learned all about her experience, and she loved hearing about my life in Chicago. (Work, Drink, Advil, Repeat) Like any goody two shoes, I was both scared and fascinated by her experience.
I just finished Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women’s Prison by Piper Kerman. It is the memoir of an intelligent woman who made a stupid mistake, just like my friend did. It’s a very interesting read, and proves that – at least in Kerman’s experience – jail is all about punishment, and not at all about rehabilitation. Probably not the best way to curb crime. I admire anyone that can overcome that experience, learn from their mistake(s) and move on. I can say with confidence that I know one woman who did.
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