How I Found Sanctuary in a Prison Library

By Ryan Moser — FROM THE INSIDE

“It’s never too late to become who you might have been” — quote on a prison library wall

Prison is bleak and void of growth or substance. It’s not a place conducive to learning. The first day I stepped into the general library at Walton Correctional institution, I was immediately reminded of this fact when I was accosted by a junkie hooked on K-2 synthetic marijuana, begging for “toochi” to get high.

“Come on, dog…I’m sick.”

“You got two seconds to get out of my face,” I replied swiftly.

A prison library can be a precarious place — like the chow hall or rec yard — especially for the timid or uninitiated. The Department of Corrections is understaffed with underpaid officers who don’t give a shit what we do, as long as it doesn’t make them work more. The library is normally guarded by one officer sitting behind a desk, feet up and eyes closed. Drug deals go down in the Classics section. Homosexual “punks” meet up in the Thriller/Suspense aisle, gossiping and concocting homemade makeup with various items from the canteen. I saw at least two gang meetings being held-the Bloods in the Sci-Fi area were huddled up in a tight circle; the Unforgivens stood in the row of Romance novels, swastika tattoos inked on bald heads shining under the…