BREAKING OUT

WEEK 4: HOW TO RESPOND VS. REACT TO STRESS. When I walked into the flourescent lighted TV room Modesto was singing flamenco at the top of his lungs. He looked at me and giggled. I was growing quite fond of him. He started chattering so fast that I couldn't understand a word he was saying. Several times I had to ask him to shut it or leave the classroom. He drank a coke, and proceeded to hit the ceiling, stammering and laughing and flapping his hands around. I raised my voice sternly, telling him to go calm himself down and come back when he had a little self control. The pedantic sound of my voice (it was like my third grade teacher, Mrs. Wilson's, terrible, shrill, slightly out of control voice) echoed down the hall. I expected a guard to break in. The 10 prisoners dropped their faces shamefully down. PUNISHED. Modesto said, gulping back something like a strangled hyperactive emotion, "I'll shut myself up now." I decided to talk about the effect of stimulants on hyperactive people. The shame in the room was visceral. We put on a Charlie Chaplin clip and called it a day. (Later I commented to one of the prisoners, "Poor Modesto." He responded, "What do you mean? He's in here for armed robbery.")