Women Behind Bars Tuesdays at 10p|9c

Angela Turner


I would like to thank you for the time your staff took to hear my story. It is my prayer that if someone out there is on the dangerous road I was on, they may see it and it may help them. If someone I just met asked me what my daily life is like I would have to say that it’s somewhere between hell and bearable. The rules change from shift to shift, officer to officer. Something you may not get into trouble for on one shift could get you written up and get you a loss of a visit on another shift. My days are pretty much consistent. I get up at 3:30 a.m., shower, go to breakfast, wait to go outside, and when I’m not doing legal work I like to read. A lot of my time has been spent reading legal material and trying to be granted a new trial. To people who have never experienced prison, it is a place where hate flourishes and hope dies if you allow it. Prison is a constant reminder of the guilt and shame I have brought to myself, my family, and my friends, and although I know I’ve been forgiven I still have days when I wonder “what could have been?” Those are the hard days. My hope has not died; I won’t allow it to even when Alabama’s laws constantly amaze me. Prison is meant to show us the error of our ways. It is also a place, at least for Alabama’s women, that you see just how messed up the system is. When someone whose family has the resources to hire an attorney gets a lot less time for the same crime, it makes it difficult. It is only by God’s grace that I don’t resent it. It also makes me more determined to help those who don’t know how to help themselves. Alabama has no program for women violent offenders. It is up to us to help ourselves. The tougher aspect of prison for me is being away from my children, grandfather and mother. I know I may never see them outside of razor wire again if I give up my hope. The positive part of my prison experience has been learning about the disease of alcoholism and the tools I need to survive it. I also met my best friend in prison. One of the things "they" tell you is you don’t have friends in prison. I disagree. It’s rare, but God does have a plan when he brings people in contact. The things I miss from my life before prison are: watching my girls sleep, brushing their hair, watching them grow, dancing and being silly with them. I miss my grandfather’s bacon and shelling peas with him. Just to listen to him tell a story I’ve heard a thousand times would be a treat. I miss renting movies. I miss hearing the phone ring, and the sound the water makes in the fish tank. I miss family reunions. I miss my mother’s biscuits and homemade soup. I miss my freedom. I have many regrets. Things I did that I shouldn’t have and things I should have done but didn’t. I regret not speaking to Toni’s parents to say I’m sorry and I’m grateful to do that now. I didn’t know I could then. Not really, I was told not to speak to them no matter what, and I’m sorry I listened. If I could leave prison for one day I would spend it doing all the things I miss. I would braid my girls’ hair, help my mother make biscuits and watch my grandfather fry the bacon because I just can’t do it like he can. I would tell everyone I love that I love them, and pray for the day that I have more than one day, so that I could love them and help them the way God meant for me to love them and help those like me that don’t know what to do anymore. I would live...