On Thursday, May 2nd, Sullivan Correctional Facility held its first college graduation ceremony since the 2020 pandemic. The achievements of two groups of students were honored: men who had earned an associate’s degree from SUNY Sullivan and men who were granted a bachelor’s degree through St. Thomas Aquinas College. Actually, there also was a third group. Because four years had elapsed since the last commencement in 2019, six of the graduates earned two degrees, having completed both programs.

I started teaching at the prison during the spring, 2017 semester, so some of the graduates were students from my first class. Due to transfers, releases, and men who had left the program, only three members of my original class remained to graduate on May 2. Still, I had been waiting years for this day! It was a joyous occasion for students, families, professors, and Hudson Link, the nonprofit organization that facilitates the education program. Hudson Link employees are themselves formerly incarcerated individuals, so they have experienced the education process from both sides of the wall.

Aside from changes in participants, broader attitudes toward education of incarcerated individuals have altered since I taught my first class. In fact, during COVID some of us professors feared the pandemic could provide an excuse to end the program altogether. However, happily, prison education programs are thriving. Pell grants have been reinstated to help pay for prison education. According to the graduation speakers, including Daniel F. Martuscello, Acting Commissioner of DOCCS, New York State correctional facilities will expand its college programs. Governor Hochul just signed a bill to study prison education as a way to reduce recidivism. And, SUNY just received a $3 million dollar grant to expand education within prisons. I didn’t take notes during Mr. Martuscello’s speech, so I hope I’m not misstating him, but I believe he noted that during the pandemic when we professors were unable to enter the prison to teach, the morale of both incarcerated men and staff took a hit. (Of course, morale everywhere was pretty bleak during the pandemic and has not yet fully recovered.)

College is a lot of work for anyone, but it is especially challenging for those who lack confidence in their abilities. A few of my incarcerated students did not speak or write in English when they entered the prison’s GED program. At least one, a Dominican man, said that he could not read or write in Spanish or English – so as a young adult he became literate while incarcerated. And others, including native English-speaking students, never considered themselves to be the college type. Many incarcerated men come from poor families and are the first to earn high school or college degrees.

One story I hear from a good number of students in the prison, or even when I taught at SUNY Sullivan and SUNY New Paltz, is how much students disliked public school or were considered “problems” due to their resistant behavior. As a result of this negative experience, they never imagined continuing school with college. This was also my experience in high school, so I can relate. When I taught at New Paltz, I recall one education major saying that he had chosen teaching as a profession to help students enjoy learning more than he had. Some students with unstable or chaotic family lives find it difficult to focus on their classes because their own problems overshadow a desire to succeed in school. Teachers who are able to build confidence in students from a variety of backgrounds and experiences rarely receive the compensation or credit they deserve for helping to change lives.

And yes, education does change lives. I have seen radical shifts in students’ self-image once they discover a love of learning, both in college and in prison. As a writing teacher, I am privileged to read and hear student stories of worlds foreign to my own, lives of poverty, neglect, violence, addiction. Education helps them to understand themselves and their communities within a broader framework, offering knowledge as a way to break cycles of poverty.

During graduation the valedictory speakers, in addition to thanking their families, teachers, and others who contributed to their success, recognized the importance of having tight cohorts of fellow students to rely on. Loneliness and isolation can sap mental energy and increase insecurity. The men learn from each other, just as we all do. Education is a holistic experience for all involved.

Recently I have come across publications and podcasts created by incarcerated people about the positive influence of prison education, both inside and outside of prison, once they are released. It is interesting to me that the recognition of education within prisons appears to be blossoming alongside a trend toward anti-intellectualism, when people’s mistrust of science and research leads them to feel they are more knowledgeable about curriculum than trained educators. Certainly schools, including colleges and universities, can always be improved, but the best people to evaluate and enact improvement are trained educators with classroom experience, not politicians or others with narrowly focused personal agendas.

Personally, I would like to see a more equitable allotment of school funding so that resources can be funneled into poorer communities to potentially minimize or prevent incarceration. Although the problems that lead to incarceration are more complex than the lack of good, safe schools – and schools everywhere could certainly be improved – this would be a start.