The Power of a Book

This weekend is the last hurrah.

I start my new weekend job at Macy's for the Holiday season (and hopefully longer)this upcoming Saturday and it couldn't come at a better time. I have a paper due tomorrow, a midterm in my Crime in Victorian Literature class on Tuesday, and a French midterm on Wednesday. I have had many tutoring sessions in the past two weeks as well--it is the midterm crunch time.

I have been searching for a job since the beginning of Summer and I finally got a call back from the retail giant. My funds have seriously depleted and I was in dire need of rent money. Prayers were answered and I got the job on the day that I had my interview. Hallelujah!

For my Women and Gender Studies class, my professor requires her students to go out and do a bit of activism in the name of Feminism. I was all to happy too do this and when I found out that I could participate with my friend Sadie, I was even more elated. Sadie and I figured out where we wanted to volunteer for a day, picked a time, and off we went. We decided on an organization called Chicago Books to Women in Prison. These men and women come together every Sunday from 2pm to 5 pm and answer requests from women who are incarcerated in various prisons in eight states. I was excited at the opportunity to help out but I had no idea how it would effect me.

I did my best to fulfill their requests--some were probably more accurate than others--but with each one that I did, I felt a connection with the woman for whom I was choosing books. On each order, I put a personal note, saying that I hope they enjoyed the books. If I happened to pick something from an author that I really liked, I mentioned that as well. Some of the requests were more specific than others--I recall one said that she would like to have some sort of erotica because she can be so lonely "here." No matter what she did to get in there--my heart went out to her. It wasn't until now that I completely understood the power of a book.

I have always loved books. They were often my best friends and I used to cry when a series was over because it was the equivalent of my friends moving away, and all I had left were the memories that I could relive if I wanted to--sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn't. Books were uplifting to me. But I never once thought how it would be for a person who is shut off from society. I've certainly had my anti-social moments, but that pales in comparisons to what those who are incarcerated feel.

I had a great Sunday---and I hope you did as well. If you would like to seek more information about Chicago Books to Women in Prisons, you can find it at their website here: http://chicagobwp.org/about-us/