Some people are locked in their own minds. Held captive by their belief, sealed behind the vault of a closed mind. You are about to meet some of them now.
Follow me please. We will walk down the long hall, where the floors are polished, and the gray concrete appears to be as slick as it has the potential to be icy cold. We pass a series of heavy cast (steel or iron) doors, some slam shut with each repeating the apothegm of, "you're now at our mercy." The officer escorts us for the remaining portion of our journey and it is there we meet individuals from all walks of life. In a snug room with few tables tightly fit, men sit along each one either begin their studies or await instructions. Some individuals are mature enough to belong to the geriatric setting, while others are young enough to be fresh out of high school. Some are Caucasian, some are of African ancestry, some with lots of hair, some balding, some bearded, some clean shaven, and others in between. It is then that one of the younger in between's calls out, "Hey... Hey... Excuse me, Mr. Obama!"
The facilitator lifts his head and eyes turning to the gentleman calling for his attention, and replies with a lighthearted laugh, "Did you just call me Mr. Obama?"
"Yeah," he replies, "I can't remember your name, and it's different, like 'Obama.'"
Another man laughs out loud saying, "Man he wrote his name on the board and how to pronounce it!"
The other men I. laugh at the first man as well now.
The first man, with a sly grin on his face says, "That word with the 'w/' next to the letter, and plus sign next to those other letters is how to say his name?! Man I thought that was algebra, or something!"
Needless to say, that earned a boisterous laugh from the entire group, even the facilitator, aka "Mr. Obama."
How is it that I cannot seem to escape the connection to this man? I have to admit that I have mixed emotions concerning that connection. Association with the intellect, and articulation is great. Association with the humanitarian in a person is also great. Association with a politician... not always so great.
Speaking of politicians and humanitarians. Some men will seek to help you as they help themselves, while others will look to get one over on you, and do not desire to work hard and make a change. They only want to help themselves, and not due to hard work either. Those are the imprisoned, and don't plan on leaving that prison even after they leave the facility. What do I mean by that?
Some men that are incarcerated actually look forward to earning their diploma, getting their GED, rightfully obtaining their freedom. Others are stuck in the mindset, of having to get rich, quick, or die trying. The sad thing is, that their attempt and dying from trying is most likely going to be a long painful death. It is a death that kills a families spirit, it kills morale, and it kills freedom. That individual ends up back in prison, on lock down, and in most cases incarcerated for several years. They are prisoners of an inescapable prison, the reprobate mind.
You have now encountered my walk into prison. My walk out is something like this: my Christmas wish and prayer is that all that walked that hallway with me just now counted each step. That you counted each step as though you were blind, that you listened to every door slam shut a little more intently, and that you felt the variance of temperature through each corridor in the same manner. That as you now enter the gatehouse with me, you can see the officer at the controls, and understand that he or she will assist us to obtain our freedom again, just as each man in the room that we just left looks to us and their instructors to obtain their mental and educational freedom. As we walk out together I pray that you thank him/her, as I do, for assisting us to exit. I pray that you'll join me in also in praying that as we help these men obtain their education that they will use it to better themselves and better serve our communities, their communities, our state, our nation, our world. Lord, free our minds, so the rest will follow... Amen.
(Love myself some, En Vogue)!
