Each workday morning for five years, I left the refuge of home for life behind bars. Like most prison employees, I had a love-hate relationship with my job. I loved being a woman of integrity in an unstable environment, but I hated knowing what I know about man's inhumanity to man.
Prison is a paradox in every way.
It's a study in contrasts, like a photo negative where white is black and black is white. Those who exploited the rights of others in society now go to great lengths to protect their own rights as prisoners. Prison may be the closest thing to hell on earth, but this, too, is a paradox because God is there. I've seen him time and time again. I drove to work under blue West Texas skies.