Please Don't Fear Me

While running with my friend John the other day, he recounted a recent experience he had in which he made a visit to a public hospital while shackled and flanked by two armed guards. Most routine medical care (if you can call it that) is conducted on site within prison; however, some procedures and tests require a visit to facilities with more equipment and expertise. When this occurs, the prisoner is handcuffed, shackled, and escorted by armed guards. Such was the case with my friend. 

John recounted that once he was in the hospital, he and the guards entered an elevator to go to a higher floor. Just before the doors of the elevator closed, a woman stepped in, not realizing that John and the guards were already in there. According to John, the woman was so shocked and nervous to be enclosed in an elevator with a shackled prisoner and armed guards that she just froze. She didn't select a floor, didn't say a word, and wouldn't even look in John's direction. 

Getting a little emotional as we ran, John said to me, "Bryan, I never want anyone to ever fear me like that again, just because of my past!" Of course, this woman knew nothing of John or his past, but just seeing a prisoner in shackles, escorted by armed guards, automatically paints a picture in a person's mind that the prisoner must be highly dangerous and must have done something horrible to be restrained in such a way. While security is foremost in the minds of the guards, for prisoners, being viewed by the public in such a way is dehumanizing.

It is true, many prisoners have done terrible things in their past. Sometimes these things result in lifelong consequences, both for the prisoner and for their victim(s). John's case is no different. But John, just like other prisoners, is still human. His past actions do not define who he is today, and yet the public perception of most prisoners is that we are dangerous monsters who must be kept apart from the public. Bad behavior requires consequences, and sometimes these consequences last a lifetime, but the public might be surprised to find out just how human many prisoners are. We want to be loved and accepted, just like everyone else. We laugh at funny jokes, cry while watching emotional movies, and dream many of the same dreams of the free public. While decorum and rules might prevent it, when someone fears us like the woman did John, we want to reach out and reassure that person that there is nothing to fear. 

Yes, we have hurt people in the past, but our past is not who many of us are today. It hurts us to know that others fear us hurting them. We want to cry out, "If you could just get to know me, you'd discover that I am not that much different than you! Please, don't fear me."