Beyond the penal lexicon, what does it mean to “serve life”? The writing in drama project on North Carolina’s death row resulted in the production of a 90 minute stage play demonstrating what it means to serve life in prison and how this journey begins in childhood. More than that, Serving Life collected stories written by men who society has discarded and sentenced to death. Stories that are emblematic of development interrupted. Whether it entailed absent or abusive parents, poor neighborhoods lacking positive role models, or mental illness and inadequate education, these and other factors create the school-to-prison pipeline. There were a number of needs that were never met.
                Psychologist Abraham Maslow posited a theory of development called the Hierarchy of Needs. He explained that whenever a person’s needs are denied regression toward poor behavior results. Once basic needs are met, progression in character and personality occur. Most people spend their lives trying to meet needs on every level of the hierarchy, with only the most successful reaching the pinnacle of self-actualization.
                7. Self-actualization: the realization of potential
                6. Aesthetic needs: order and beauty
                5. Cognitive needs: knowledge and understanding
                4. Self-esteem needs: achievement and gaining of recognition
                3. Belongingness and love needs: affiliation and acceptance
                2. Safety and security needs: long-term survival and stability
                1. Physiological needs: hunger, thirst, sex
 
                The incarcerated populace was especially inefficient at fulfilling their needs in the free world and, as much as many would hate to admit, require the structure and order of prison to satisfy the two most basic levels of the hierarchy—physiological, safety and security needs. Over time affiliation and acceptance occurs, and through programs achievement, knowledge and understanding are reached. Order is a natural byproduct of most institutional settings, but recognizing it as a necessary element of one’s balance as a human being is difficult.
                Death row’s production of Serving Life was the culmination of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs fulfilled. In writing and acting in this play each participant recognized the missing stages of their development, overcame and met whatever needs had caused their individual regression and progressed toward a realization of human potential.
                Maslow identified a number of traits characteristic of self-actualizing people:
 
--Clear, efficient perception of reality and comfortable relations with it.
--Spontaneity, simplicity and naturalness
--Problem centering—having something outside of themselves they “must” do as a mission.
--Detachment and the need for privacy
--Autonomy, independence of culture and environment
--Continued freshness of appreciation
--Mystical and peak experiences
--Feelings of kinship and identification with the human race
--Strong friendships, but limited in number
--Democratic character structure; balance between polarities in personality
--Ethical discrimination between good and evil
--Philosophical, unhostile sense of humor
 
                Our performance of Serving Life required a great deal of perseverance and team work to complete. Had this effort at problem centering—something outside of ourselves we “had” to do as a mission—failed, maximum human potential couldn’t have been reached. Also necessary was an appreciation for the opportunity to engage in this unheard of event on death row. Write a play and act in it? A few years ago the idea would’ve been comical.
                More than anything, being granted the chance to tell the story of development interrupted to approximately two hundred people in three viewings was a phenomenal experience incomparable to anything else. Serving Life fulfilled needs we didn’t know existed, but it also became the ultimate platform upon which the realization of our fullest potential became possible. If other prisoners were granted the same opportunity to meet every level in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs it stands to reason that prison could become a place where human potential is maximized rather than squandered.

Our most recent assignment in “Houses of Healing”—group therapy on death row for those not in the know—requires age progression visualization, a means of imagining the future at varying stages in your life span. Do you have peace, feel strong within, radiate inner confidence, spiritual maturity and are you around the support others whom you in turn help? I strive for all these things now, but that’s not the point of this exercise.
My first thought was negative: assuming there remains a defacto moratorium on executions I pray I’m not still on death row ten, twenty or—God help us—thirty years from now. If the moratorium ends tomorrow at least 60 of the people I’ve come to know over two decades as my immediate family will be put to death. Not all at once or all in a year, but that is a reality of imagining any future on death row.
In here the future isn’t something many of us consider too deeply, rather we imagine lottery ticket possibilities that don’t involve dying of natural causes in prison at the ripe old age of 65 or being exterminated. To a lesser degree I imagine in ten years I could reach a minimum security prison where work release, contact visits and maybe a day pass are possibilities. To a greater degree I day dream about the street and what that means: of holding a normal job, paying bills, owning a cat and dog, of having a girlfriend or wife and kids . . . These ideas bring a modicum of peace now because they provide a means of escape from a place there is no escaping. If I actually reached these ideas then, yes,  I would have an abundance of peace, accomplishment, relaxation and be deeply involved with the community.
The coldness of reality is that life in prison doesn’t get better in measurements of decades. This life is compartmentalized into increments—an edible meal, a drama-free day, a good book, a dreamless night of sleep, a productive day of writing and exercise, maybe even a good movie without the interruption of a shakedown or some hyena in the dayroom that wants an argument.
Ten years? Twenty or thirty years? God help me I don’t want to think about next year and all of the tomorrows and attitude that brings, let alone the years to follow. My sanity is maintained in the moment because it is the only thing I have. My peace is stolen between the seconds and minutes of hateful people who have no respect for the next man. I relax when sleep claims consciousness. Being centered, to me,  means living in the moment and for this particular moment I’m writing on a topic that goes against every wall making up my physical prison. There is no future here, only the days we cross off calendars and give thanks they’re over.
 
“Shikin Haramitsu Daikomyo”
 
Shikin—a greeting, sensation of harmony, perceived by the heart.
 
Haramitsu—wisdom from courage and effort fosters security, loyalty and faithfulness.
 
Daikomyo—bring respect and reliance, illumination from the inside to the outside
 
Taken together: every encounter is sacred and could present the one potential key to the perfection of the great universal enlightenment we seek.

Without a library or computer, looking for schools willing to provide correspondence GEDs is tough. My closest friend has been kind enough to look and has found there are no North Carolina schools advertising paper-based GED correspondence classes. The computer age might make this an outdated way to learn, but it’s what we need. The search didn’t include HSED (High School Equivalency Diploma) programs because they’re more involved and costly than a GED. Also it will be considerably harder to fundraise a lot of money compared to a little.
                If it comes down to using an HSED program it would mean a difference of nearly three times the estimated cost of a GED (compare $1100 to $350 per student). Until I find a better option it appears James Madison High School in Georgia is the most comprehensive HSED correspondence program. A trustworthy, straightforward school has been a major sticking point in moving forward with the death row education project.
                Not wanting to ignore Wake Tech in my search, I’ve written to Dan Degen, an administrator at the community college currently providing a GED program to regular population prisoners at Central Prison—but not death row. Mr. Degen has yet to respond to either of my letters, but I explained what I’m trying to do and asked for his guidance. Following up on what Wake Tech can or cannot do has turned out to be fruitless.
                Next I spoke with some programs staff at the prison about the Wake Tech GED class offered to regular population prisoners. Once I explained the reason for my query it was suggested I write a proposal to the Associate Warden of Programs. Not satisfied with the information, I asked a shift captain and was told in all seriousness to write the Deputy Director of the DPS. Despite his status he’s interested in prison reform and would actually read a letter from a death row prisoner. This sounded like a good idea except it would mean breaking the internal chain of command—an important thing to avoid when looking for help in a bureaucratic system. So I’ve written proposals to the AWOP, Unit Manager (who like the idea enough to forward it to the AWOP), and warden. Of the three the only feedback came from the unit manager. For now it seems the administration wants nothing to do with a Death Row Education  Project.
                I attempted to contact Lao Rubert, director of the Carolina Justice Policy Center, after speaking with my attorney because I knew this project would be bigger than my efforts alone. The Carolina Justice Policy Center is a “nonprofit organization dedicated to developing and promoting effective, equitable and humane solutions to criminal justice problems, [and] has worked on a wide range of policy issues including sentencing reform . . and addressing critical problems in the use of the death penalty.”  Okay, maybe they were only loosely related to the idea of education in prison, but any help would have been better than none. Ms. Rubert didn’t respond to my letters either.
                I get it. Here is this convicted murderer asking about improving the quality of understanding for a small group of people in a population slated for execution. Off-putting if you don’t’ deal with prisoners or some element of the criminal justice system, but not an unreasonable pursuit. In fact, I had hoped by now the national conversation about the death penalty and sentence reform would make the people I’m trying to contact more willing to listen, more open to the idea that educating every prisoner is a good thing. That it is much more costly to incarcerate and execute than it is to educate. Apparently it has yet to really sink in on all fronts. I will continue with the final step of the administrative remedy by writing to the Deputy Director of the DPS and see what he has to say about extending the prison’s GED program to death row prisoners.

In ’98 after my second suicide attempt I found a battered book in the book crate, notable because it wasn’t romance or espionage. Thirsty for new material I grabbed the book and hurried back to my cell, unable to discern the content from the blurb on the back cover, but just as eager to escape. Tucking cold feet into the pant legs of my oversized white jumpsuit I began reading Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning.
                Up unto that point heroes were brightly colored comic book ideals or guys like Dirty Harry and Rambo—they didn’t exist in my world. Besides, who would want to save me? I’d been charged with capital murder. Heroes don’t save the bad guys, they vanquish them. I knew this even as my mind danced around the idea, wring its hands and wailing ‘How has this happened?’. Suicide was an easy choice balanced against that question.
                I was so confused and miserable the best I could hope for out of the heavy psych meds was just enough emptiness to read this book. It would be my last before they took me to the doctor in a few days to get the broken cast on my wrist replaced. When I tried to escape there was no doubt the deputy would open fire. Problem solved.
                Except I began reading this book . . .
                “The way in which a man accepts his fate and all the suffering it entails, the way in which he takes up his cross, gives him ample opportunity—even under the most difficult circumstances—to add deeper meaning to his life. It may remain brave, dignified and unselfish. Or in the bitter fight for self-preservation he may forget his human dignity and become no more than an animal.” (p. 67)
                I sat down and read and jotted down lines from the book as Frankl’s voice echoed in the emptiness. It was a clarion call to action. A challenge. You’re miserable? So what. Buck up and give meaning to the rest of your life. Fight because it’s hard. The circumstance will never get more difficult than the utter isolation of a cell and capital murder trial. I had nothing else.
                “When a man finds that it is his destiny to suffer, he will have to accept his suffering as his task; his single and unique task. He will have to acknowledge the fact that even in suffering he is unique and alone in the universe. No one can relieve him of his suffering or suffer in his place. His unique opportunity lies in the way in which he bears his burden.” (p. 78)
                Frankl survived multiple concentration camps where millions of Jews were immediately put to death for their religion. He administered to his fellow captives providing comfort, advice and reassurance there was purpose in their suffering. He lived in spite of the Nazis. In spite of the culling pogroms. Frankl survived by accepting fate and finding the nobility of purpose. He took the world’s biggest toilet bowl of excrement and found a way to remark upon the design of the wall paper rather than bemoan the smell. How could I do such a phenomenal thing?
                The deputies took me to a doctor’s office on the outer edge of town. Located in a strip mall, the driver parked the van in an empty lot and went inside while his partner stood with me. Even shackled hand and foot I could shuffle fast enough . . .The remaining deputy grew distracted with something in the van and I stood alone in the parking lot, smelling freedom from a nearby pastry shop. It turned my empty stomach, having not eaten anything in days. I took a few steps away from the van and saw a patch of woods behind the strip mall. Then I saw the deputy’s pistol jutting from the hip holster. Beckoning like the pastry shop. It would be over quickly.
                I paused a very long time. Long enough for the sunlight to shift behind some clouds. Then the moment was gone as the deputy swore and slammed the door. “Stupid paperwork’s back at the jail. Come on.” As he escorted me into the doctor’s office a phrase rolled around in the emptiness. IT stopped me from running or grabbing the gun. It took root and grew, and in that moment I knew Frankl had saved me.
                “Man is not fully conditioned and determined but rather determines himself whether he gives into conditions or stands up to them. In other words, man is ultimately self-determining. Man does not simply exist but always decides what his existence will be, what he will become in the next moment. By the same token, every human being has the freedom to change at any instant.” (p. 131)

Listen to me. Do exactly as I say and happiness will be yours in the future. Here is why you should do as I say: if you don’t you’ll be incarcerated by the end of next year. At 16 you’ll be just old enough to feel grown but too naïve to realize how much responsibility being grown entails. Instead you will ignore the consequences of your actions and make a lifetime of bad decisions in three years, totally destroying your life, hurting your family and earning their distrust, and completely isolating yourself from society. Finally, prison will claim your stupid carcass because you dropped out of school, chose to hang around people as dumb as you, (you know, the “cool” people, the rebels who say ‘screw it’, or ‘fuck the authorities’ because they’ve a misguided sense of entitlement to cultural oppression), and thought partying all the time was okay.
                For your 21st birthday, after 20 months in solitary confinement, rather than celebrate becoming an adult you’ll be reviled as a convicted murderer and sentenced to death. You don’t want that. Not even in your most callous or suicidal imaginings. Nothing on this earth is worth the endless days of existing in this concrete coffin. Keep getting high and drunk and that’s what will happen.
                There is no way to accurately describe the mind numbing horror of spending the rest of your life in prison, of never having children and a wife, watching your parents grow old before your eyes as the rest of the world passes you by. Nothing can fully convey the emptiness that will remain after your siblings disown you. You’ll not be thought of much because for those who did care it’s too painful for them to think of the life you wasted. That’s what living fast means—wasting your life and regretting it after it’s too late. The real pain of prison is that you’ll discover the potential you have. You’re smart and full of ideas. You have talent and skill. A great well of ability. People look up to you and in turn you have so much love . . but twenty years from now when you’re sitting in a hot cell it won’t matter. Your life as it relates to the world beyond the prison ended the day you began saying ‘Screw it. It doesn’t really matter’.
                It matters. It really matters. This is how life works. As soon as you stop caring about what happens to you and the people around you, you’ve lost. Do you want to avoid my fate? Avoid this hell on earth?
                My first piece of advice is to stay in school. It really is as simple as that. You hear it all the time for a reason. No single effort in life is more important than getting and maintaining an education. Without it you are no one. A bum who will depend on menial labor for minimum wages until an institution of one sort or another has to take care of you. I know it can be boring right now, but I promise if you try hard there will be enormous benefits as you get older. Mom and dad are not wrong in this—if you want things you need money, if you want respect, you need intelligence.
                Go to college. Your education doesn’t end with high school: your responsibility for that education increases. Have several areas of interest you can pursue so you’re not left floundering. Don’t worry about which college—succeed. If you want a break from school to explore the world join the military. Any branch will do and they can teach you extraordinary skill sets—the stuff of dreams. Want to fly a jet? Launch a rocket? Captain a ship? You don’t have to tote a gun, I advise against it. There are plenty of jobs you’ll enjoy and opportunities to propel you into adulthood that would not otherwise be possible as a civilian, especially if you focus on technology. Stay in school. Go to college. Join the military. It doesn’t get any more straightforward.
                The next important piece of advice is this: getting high or drunk is not okay. It impairs your judgement which, as a teenager, is already bad enough. Drugs and alcohol erode your already poor decisions to the point where, guess what? You end up crippled, dead, in jail or prison, or all of the above. Sure, partying with friends can be great fun, but is that worth your life and future? NO. Yes, pot is bad for you even in moderation. It really is a gateway drug even though legalization and synthetics make it seem okay to use—it’s every bit as dangerous as alcohol or any other mind altering substances. You are a smart and capable person with no need to consume chemicals. For any reason.
                I know what you’re thinking, ‘When do I get to have fun?’. Throughout your life you’ll have fun by achieving the goals set before you. If you need a rush take up weight lifting, skiing, swimming, or some other sport. There is no high better or more far reaching than success in the challenges you set your mind and body against. Don’t wait for someone to suggest your purpose. Don’t react to life as it happens—be proactive in all you do. Be a doer not a dreamer and maintain a will to win.
                This brings me to the next piece of advice. Work hard every day and in all things and eventually you can achieve anything. This is what human potential and free will allow you to do. If you want to be rich, famous, and powerful it will not be handed to you. Invest your time because it only spends once. This is why education is so important—because you have to know how and on what to use you precious time on earth. It will determine who you are and what you become.
                My letter to you could easily become a book if I continued with all of the advice and warnings I have to give. Instead, I’ll leave you with one more, very important thing. If you remember to heed it with everything else you’ll know what true happiness is about.
                Love your family, friends and yourself in that order. By doing this you can realize the most important element of God’s love for the world. When you find a good woman (you’ll know her by her laugh) marry her. Show these people your love because life is fleeting, easy to squander and impossible to repair. That’s it kid. Fold this up and put it in your wallet. Tack it to the wall. Take it out every now and then and read it. When do you, remember each day you wake up God gives you a choice. Spend it wisely and think of me when you’re tempted to do otherwise.
 
Sincerely,
 
Lyle
 
PS: It wouldn’t be personal if there wasn’t a post script. By the time you turn 18 you should have read the following:
 

1. Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankel
2. Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell
3. Blink by Malcolm Gladwell
4. David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell
5. The Oxford History of Prison by Norval Morris and David I. Rothman
6. 1984 by George Orwell
7. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
8. The Orphan Master’s Son by Adam Johnson
9. The Life of Pi by Yan Martel
10. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee