Felon’s Alphabet: P is for purpose
Purpose is one of the most powerful forces a human being can possess. Think about it: purpose is what gets you out of bed in the morning. Even if it is as simple a purpose as going to your assigned program. You go because you choose to go and fulfill your purpose for the day. But you and I both know that purpose is greater than simply going to an assigned job site.
“P” is for purpose.
Webster’s Dictionary defines purpose as “what a person plans to get or do; an aim or goal.”
It is fair to say that at this very minute, all over the world, there are people in search of purpose — in search of something that gives their lives meaning, a reason not to just crawl out of bed in the morning but to awaken and seize the day with excitement and determination.
And yet, despite that yearning for purpose, it appears that for most, that purpose remains an elusive, intangible target. If that is how people on the outside feel, then what do you suppose those of us who are incarcerated must feel?
For many of us, prison becomes that moment, the unexpected crossroads where finding purpose becomes essential for survival. Purpose must be excavated from beneath years of survival, distraction, and pain.
How do you find purpose behind bars when your entire spirit is clamoring for freedom? Does freedom then become the purpose?
Imagine how difficult it must be to wake up in a cramped cell with seven relative strangers and realize that this is what your life will now consist of for the next 25 years. Wow! How can we expect this individual to have a purpose other than freedom? Is that even fair? But we, the incarcerated, know more than anyone that prison is not survivable without purpose.
Inside a prison system designed to restrict autonomy and strip you of your identity, the search for purpose can be a final act of defiance. Purpose is not handed out in prison. It has to be carved out — through reflection, accountability, remorse, and the willingness to actively work on living amends. Purpose will aid you in growing up by going in and resisting the inclination to collapse when life gets tough. Because life is tough in prison. And good old-fashioned grit will only get you so far. My friend, you also need a purpose. Remember, your purpose is the thing that motivates you; what are you passionate about? Is it as simple as going home to your loved ones? Is it seeing an aging family member before they pass? Because both are laudable purposes. Are you determined to leave prison a person transformed from the inside? That was me. It may surprise many of you reading this that up until 2021, I struggled with suicidal ideations— daily. My purpose was to heal psychologically and through my lived experience, help others heal.
So many incarcerated individuals have found purpose in this wretched place. And by that, I mean they have found that which permits them to awaken in the morning and seize the day. If you are looking, you will see them in the rain, in 110 degree weather; waiting at the gate and then waiting at work change, their meager state lunches in hand, ready to labor for pennies. If you keep looking, later on that evening, you will see the same people waiting to attend self-help groups or to facilitate groups for their peers. These folks have found purpose—rehabilitating themselves and aiding peers with their rehabilitation. And it is gratifying and humbling to behold. One can’t help but be moved by the sight of these clearly rehabilitated men and women doing their life sentences in the pursuit of purpose and in the service of others.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs suggests that all human beings aim for the tip of that pyramid, where evolution lies. To be evolved is to have grown and progressed. Ideally, from a pre-carceral state of criminality and suffering into a state of rehabilitation. Purpose is the catalyst that can transmute a criminal into an evolved prosocial being.
