Inmates at Matsqui Institution were doing federal time (sentences of two years or more). Often this longer time span enabled inmates and sponsors to develop relationships where there was a measure of trust. We found that when these caged men grasped that their sponsor was a friend, they considered this an opportunity to divulge long hidden secrets from what was almost invariably a sordid past.
Accounts of turbulent family dynamics frequently dismayed us. They also helped us understand why their history was so cluttered with bitterness, anger and despair. Turmoil in their home had denied them an opportunity to lay the foundation for a stable future. Because I interviewed each inmate who applied for a sponsor, I heard chilling stories sufficient to crush a man’s spirit.
Listening to these men, I realized my childhood home had been a safe haven. I was sustained by an abundance of encouragement, love and a tranquil atmosphere. I never returned home knowing my dad would give me a beating for being out too late. Realizing that most sponsors had been blessed with a similarly peaceful upbringing, I wondered how we could possibly bridge the emotional and psychological chasm that stretched like a minefield between us.
Roy, who had sat at the back of the room with arms crossed in the first meeting, had not fared well from his earliest days. His father had been a small time crook, shunted from one prison to another, just bumping purposelessly through life. He had married a second time and the step mother developed an immediate and intense dislike for Roy. She hounded his father relentlessly to disown him. The lack of constructive attention by his father, who couldn’t stay out of prison, and the toxic harassment by his step mother convinced Roy he was worthless. Unwise decisions and actions had persuaded him all he could look forward to was more painful, demoralizing stumbles. He had come to view life through a bleak distorted prism.
It was the hope of our organization that by providing an inmate with a friend in the local community, he would begin to believe life offered more than a series of failures. To this end I matched Roy with Walter, a successful poultry farmer. Walter and Helen immediately began including Roy in their family activities.
Like most men we sponsored, Roy became surprisingly protective of our organization. He didn’t want to besmirch our reputation by escaping while on a pass with Walter. Recognizing this, Matsqui decision makers granted him a number of passes. Walter and family took him along to social events, community functions, church services, and more. Roy especially enjoyed Helen’s invitations to dinner in their home.
In a conversation with Walter and myself, Roy referred to the step mother’s attempts to dislodge him from the family. “My father was in the slammer too much to ever get around to disowning me,” he recalled, “but my stepmother was a determined scheming woman. She made life unbearable for me. When I was eleven I started running away and stealing. I was placed in one detention centre after another.”
He paused a moment as though trying to decide if he should say more. Then, with a rueful grin he added, “I guess you could say that in the end she did get what she wanted.”
Roy’s life trajectory was similar to that of many inmates, although the details often differed. As a child and youth his spirit had been crushed repeatedly by rejection, neglect and failure. Now in an adult body, in many ways he was still just a confused kid. The years behind bars and fences had given him the mental and emotional tools to survive and thrive in confinement, but not in the larger society. He was desperately attempting to claw his way out of the fog that engulfed him. He craved the freedom and sense of fulfillment he recognized in people beyond the fences.
As sponsors we knew this would be a journey with many pitfalls. We would have to grow in maturity and inner strength, so that in us the men we sponsored would have a credible example of how to achieve a fulfilling life.