BAND AIDS & GUNSHOT WOUNDS

When a prisoner advocacy group slaps a lawsuit on my employer for not providing special education services we’re left scrambling for resources. Like nurses in a makeshift triage we use Band Aids to cover gunshot wounds. I can only imagine that while we’re trying to stop the bleed some young gangbanger’s momma phones the warden complaining how her son has been mistreated, how he’s such a good boy and deserves better; after all, he’s human just like the rest of us.

So when I’m told to cancel class to address the needs of one young gangbanger caught with razor blades in his cell, I do as I’m told, I walk the prison mall area with my boss and temporary special education teacher. We enter the segregation building and setup shop inside a small holding room. A corrections officer escorts the young gangbanger our way.

 “We’re here today for your IEPC,” the special education teacher says. “Do you know what that is?”

 He’s not talking. He’s handcuffed.

“An IEPC,” she continues, “stands for ‘Individualized Education Plan Committee.’”  

I’m thinking to myself, we are the committee, we are the Band Aid.

She sets a handbook on the table which lists various disabilities that are covered under special education services, along with a handout titled “Special Education Procedural Safeguards.” She asks the corrections officer if he’ll take the handcuffs off the gangbanger so he can sign some paperwork.

I say to the officer, “I’m sure we can get his signature.” I place a pen in the gangbanger’s hands behind his back; he contorts his body, positioning his hip against the desk, and scrawls his name. Not long after that he’s escorted back to his segregation cell.

One week later when the young gangbanger’s back in general population attending my class I give him the special education handbook he signed for. He, in turn, tosses it in the trash. I can only imagine him out on the prison yard waiting to use the phone, waiting to feed his momma another line of bullshit about how he can't learn without proper assistance. I can only imagine that one day when he’s thrown back into society, that if he doesn’t turn his life around he’ll end up in some emergency room, another gunshot victim waiting for the educated to revive him on a shoestring budget.