Each morning I wake up, I fix my hair and do my make up to get ready for lunch that’s served at 9am on most days. I live in a men’s prison and being the only female around, I choose my company at the dining table wisely as to not gain deceptive attractions. I have a close friend I eat with daily. Very rarely will anyone invite themselves to sit where I already am. Maybe intimidation, maybe respect, maybe trans-phobia.
Which ever it is, it did not effect this one young man from sliding his tray onto the table and smoothly sitting down while asking in an almost timid voice “What is your name?” He then began to eat his food while sharply observing the surroundings. I answered “I’m Stacey” with a smile because I noticed he held no deviant intentions. “What is your name?” He answered in saying, “I’m David. I’m gay.”
It seemed like a relief to finally come across someone who could speak those words without worry. I asked where he lived on the unit. He said he just arrived and would be here only 6 to 9 months in a program to go home. During the entire conversation his eyes darted all around. He was new to prison life. He was young and he was scared. My motherly instincts took over and I knew he sat with my friend and I out of refuge. There is no telling how long he had been in lockup without being around others of the LGBTQ community and here I sat next to him with my hair fixed really cute, makeup on, bracelets and necklaces a novelty for most. I saw in his eyes a comfort long needed. Then as swiftly as he arrived, he picked up his tray and asked me where he was to take it for washing.
I told him it was really nice to meet him as I gave directions on how to leave the dining hall. He was scared and alone. He was only in the dining hall to eat. The program he was to be part of is in a separate building. I would never see him again but I believe because of that experience, he will always see me. I was likely the first openly LGBTQ member he ever came across in prison and I’d like to think that changed his life.
As I look back I wish I had said more. To tell him that everything will be OK and he’ll be home soon. We can’t dictate the occurrences in our lives as that and I was not prepared for it. It was a blessing and one I will never forget. He had no binds of his own making with his identity towards me. He was truly free and he helped me realise that I can be there for others simply by just being myself. I thank you my mysterious guest. You gave me comfort as well, comfort inside my own skin.
