"You Know What I Mean?"

When I first arrived here at the Reception Center almost two months ago, I was having a conversation with one of my previous bunk neighbors. We were discussing addiction and recovery. This fellow inmate was a recovering drug addict which led to a very interesting and revealing discussion. However, when the conversation first started, as the fellow inmate was speaking, he said, “You know what I mean?” Instinctively, after he asked, I replied with a “Yes.” He went on speaking and again after a few sentences, he said, “You know what I mean?” Again, I replied, “Yes.” This went on and on and I kept answering with a yes thinking that perhaps he thought I didn’t understand what he was saying. However, after the 8th and 9th time, I finally realized he wasn’t asking me the question, he couldn’t help it and this was part of his conversation. Please, don’t get me wrong, I am not making fun of this, in fact I am poking fun at myself. I did not realize that he wasn’t asking me a question, “You know what I mean?” This question was just part of the way he spoke and I wonder what he thought of me for answering this?

As I have progressed through the Reception Center and have had a few conversations with other inmates, I have noticed quite a few of them state, “You know what I mean?” over and over again. There probably is a scientific, academic, psychological, or sociological reason why this is stated over and over again, but I am not qualified to give the answer. I find it amazing that so many inmates share this same characteristic. Maybe someone out there can explain it.

This morning in the kitchen, my ever-growing self-confidence almost got the best of me. As I have stated previously, my main oven guys have transferred to their final destinations this week and I have two new oven guys. I can’t help but to make a comparison which I know I should not; however, things worked much more smoothly last week with the old oven guys. The ovens are not difficult at all as long as the entrees keep coming out of the ovens – not burnt – and at the proper temperature. The timing of the breakfast services is such that there is more than enough time to have everything ready. However, one of the worst possible scenarios is missing one or two entrees when the inmates arrive at the chow hall.

This almost happened this morning. The main entrée on the menu was cinnamon rolls followed by oatmeal and stewed prunes. The rolls are a very popular item with the inmates and especially the kitchen workers. As our new kitchen supervisor opened the boxes containing the cinnamon rolls, he gave us a speech on how each one of us is allowed ONE roll before breakfast is served to the inmates. Then whatever is left over, we can have. He made his speech in front of everyone and when he was finished, he turned to look at me as the “head oven guy” – only because I’ve been there the longest – and in return I said, “I will make sure everyone has only one, you have my word.” What was I thinking?? After saying this I thought to myself what in the world did I say!?

As we were arranging the cinnamon rolls on the cookie sheets, I turned to one of the other oven guys and asked him if he wanted to take care of the rolls and he said yes. I told him to please make sure no one takes more than one roll until after we were finished serving. Effectively, I transferred my stupidity to someone else and he said he would make sure that no one takes more than one roll. Nonetheless, I guess he was exempt from this because he had three while he was preparing the cinnamon rolls. I didn’t say anything because it’s really not my place to do that. We did have plenty leftover so he did a good job preventing anyone from taking more than one because in addition to the one we had before breakfast service, we received two to eat in the dining hall and one to take back with our lunches.

By the way, this was only part of my ever growing self-confidence getting the best of me. After the speech by the kitchen supervisor and my stupid comment, no less than five minutes later, there was an inmate carrying what I thought were three cinnamon rolls away from the ovens so I yelled for him to come back. After I accused him of taking three cinnamon rolls, he showed me that he was carrying three cleaning blocks for the grill which happen to be the same size as the rolls. He and I both laughed and everyone else around us laughed, too. Thankfully, - no harm, no foul – but I need to temper my self-confidence a great deal.

Another example from this morning was three of us were working the ovens – one on the cinnamon rolls, one on the stewed prunes, and me on the oatmeal. The inmate responsible for the cinnamon rolls was also responsible for loading the second wave of prunes and oatmeal into the ovens so we could prepare the serving pots quicker. I assigned these duties begrudgingly because I have been there the longest and the two others look to me for some kind of guidance. I am not crazy about telling them what to do, but if I don’t I will either have to do everything or nothing will be finished on time.

We all appeared to be on the same page with the inmate at one side of the preparation table with the prunes, one at the ovens taking the cinnamon rolls in and out, and myself at the other side of the preparation table with the oatmeal. As I was preparing the oatmeal I could see the back of the ovens and usually there would be steam coming out. I didn’t see any steam nor did I see the inmate responsible for the rolls. I let it go, but after five minutes I had to see what was going on. As I went toward the front of the ovens, I found a full cart of oatmeal which should have been transferred to the ovens by the inmate responsible for the cinnamon rolls. I opened the doors to two of the ovens and they were empty – which explained the full cart of uncooked oatmeal. I looked around the kitchen for this inmate and then I went into the “chow hall” but couldn’t find him there either. I was very upset (which is sort of ridiculous that I am taking the ovens so seriously). As I came back from the “chow hall”, I saw this particular inmate standing by the ovens as if nothing was wrong. Yes, I was upset, but I tried my best not to sound accusatory even though there was concern on my face. As I approached him, I asked if all the ovens were filled? (I knew they weren’t). He responded with a yes, but he wasn’t very convincing. After he said this, I went over to one of the empty ovens and as I pulled it open he said, “Oh, I forgot to load the oatmeal, I am so sorry.” Then he proceeded to do so into the two empty ovens. He could tell I was upset as I walked away, but I think I handled it well.

The oatmeal came dangerously close to not being ready, but I was able to prepare a few pots to put on the food service line just in time. Later when the breakfast service was completed, this inmate came up to me and apologized for not putting the oatmeal in the oven and he told me it would never happen again. This would close the matter successfully.

I still have to be mindful of not getting too big for my britches. My self-confidence is growing but in some circles this is not a good thing because it can be misunderstood for cockiness. I am fortunate because I seem to get along very well with everyone from every race. When I speak with the other inmates, I listen and let them say what they need to say. When I respond, it is usually with a question or a positive response. I have gotten into quite a few discussions regarding addiction and recovery. Most times I learn something new and most times I get “You are right” (which is genuinely said) as a response to one of my positive comments. Most of the time I asked, “What brought you back here?” and then after hearing their response, I ask, “How are you going to NOT come back?” I say these things with concern and not condescendingly. There have been very good responses and hopefully these inmates break the insane cycle of constantly coming back to prison.

It is truly sad because for the most part, the inmates I have spoken to are good people who have made horrible choices just like me. However, many of these inmates are on the carousel ride of being in and out of prison. I can’t change the system; I can only change my behavior to ensure I never have to go through this again. I am trying my darnest to make the best of this situation and hopefully some of my discussions help others. I do know each one of these conversations help me to understand what a great life I have as long as I stay in recovery.