Change behind bars: Two South Lake Tahoe locals speak about their time in jail

Do you know what it is like to be caged like a wild animal? Do you know what it is like to scratch at the insides of a jail cell wall as you scream for your freedom? Do you know what it is like to have your nightmares as your only company?

I can’t say that I know what it’s like. I really can’t.

However, over a million people in the United States can tell you what it’s like to be a number in the masses of incarcerated individuals in America today. Some of them are victims of a faulty criminal justice system and prisons that are for-profit in lieu of rehabilitation. Others have earned their prison stripes and belong inside the confines of a jail cell.

Two local South Lake Tahoe residents have stepped forward to tell you their experiences of being incarcerated in the El Dorado County jail in the hopes of breaking the stereotypes surrounding ex-convicts.

These are their stories in their own words.

"Maggie"

“When I was incarcerated, my name was inconsequential. I was a number. I felt faceless. Invisible. Granted, some will think that is what I deserved to feel for simply being incarcerated and most wouldn’t take the time to know what brought me to be a longtime resident of El Dorado County jail. It was drugs. Naturally. And a lack of mental health. You know, as an ex-convict, I know I am supposed to hate the police, but the South Lake Tahoe Police Department saved my life. I love those guys.

They found me on the streets at 22 tweaking out with an assortment of drugs and needles in my backpack. I was so lost and if they wouldn’t have found me… I don’t even want to think about it.

I was cast out on the streets at 18. My 18th birthday in fact. My father would sexually abuse me and physically assault me throughout my entire childhood. My mother would let him and then blame me for enticing her husband. I started drugs soon thereafter and I became a prostitute for a thug that controlled every aspect of my life. I did it to drown out the memories that echoed throughout my mind from my years of abuse incurred at the hands of my parents. The people that were supposed to love me.

I eventually became so abused by my pimp that I would do whatever he told me to do. I thought he loved me. I really did. He promised me acceptance, hope, and undying love like I never knew before. I was gone.

Then, I was arrested and my life was saved. I went through a long stint in the county jail. I hated every minute of it. Some of the guards treated us terribly and the days were so terribly long. I used to count my time left by how many meals I ate… So, breakfast meant that I had 99 meals left until I was free, kind of thing…

And once I was free, I was determined to stand on my own two feet. It was really hard, though. Every time people saw the word ex-convict on my resume I was denied the job almost instantaneously. I eventually was able to find a job and I got married to a really great guy. Life is better than I have ever known.

The reason I am telling you this is because I want you to know that I am a fallible human being and a victim of poor circumstances. So are a lot of people out there. Most of us are lost children in adult bodies that are trying to make it through the madness that is life.”

"James"

“I was a thug. I am going to tell you that now. I didn’t have an Orphan Annie type of childhood. I wasn’t beaten. However, I was crazy. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest type of crazy. I believe my official diagnosis while I was in jail was multiple personality disorder, bipolar disorder, and depression. So in other words, I was a hoot to be around. A real 'life of the party.'

My poor parents, I really feel sorry for them…. I was a crazy child. They had to kick me out when I was 16 because they were so terrified of me. I killed the family dog and gutted it because one of my personalities thought she was a taxidermist.

When I hit the streets, a black and short 16-year-old kid, I was bait for the gangs. They called me crazy curly because I was crazy and, well, I had curly hair. I was trained to carry drugs, weapons, and girls across state lines.

I was really good at it too. I never got caught until I was 34 and here in South Lake Tahoe. I was speeding because I was having an episode. It wasn’t the most opportune time because I had a whole bunch of crack in my trunk. I could tell as soon as the cop pulled me over that he knew I was guilty of something.

The cop was hilarious too. I will never forget him. He opened the trunk and said, ”Boy, you are dumber than a bag of nails. If you’re going to try and traffic a bunch of drugs do it in a less conspicuous car.“ He slapped the cuffs on me and arrested me, naturally.

I don’t blame him. I thank him for arresting me. He saved my life.

While I was in jail, I received a lot of treatment for drugs and for my many conditions. Life after jail was pretty hard, I will admit it. I had a felony on my record and an official diagnosis of being crazy. But, life was still good. It was good because I began to get help. While in jail, I figured out why I was the way I was and I learned how to control it.

I was given a second chance at life.

What I want you to know about ex-convicts is to not judge us by our pasts. We all make mistakes. Including those of you who drive Porsches and wear suits for a six-figure job. I was a lost boy who did some bad things. I am the first one to admit that. But I was just that… A boy. I never received the help I needed as a child to be a productive member of society. And there are a lot of boys who are like the way I was that are lost in the criminal justice system.”

These are just the stories of two people in a country that has the largest prisoners per-capita than any other country in the world. Although their time in prison made a positive impact in their lives, there are some cases where incarceration leads them back to prison once they are released. It’s easier for some to try and make it in prison versus in society.

We have to ask ourselves: What are we doing wrong as a society if our sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers are flocking in hoards into the criminal justice system?

Blue Marie Balcita is the founder and editor of 1974, the Lake Tahoe Community College newspaper and a contributor to South Tahoe Now.