Books Behind Bars
Respect is a luxury in a place where dignity is so often denied.
I FELT MY BLOOD PRESSURE RISING, HEARD MY heartbeat in my ears, and tasted my mouth drying out as the heavy jail door slammed shut behind me. It was my first time in 4J2, a maximum-security women’s pod in the Harris County Jail. The stale air pulsed with the sound of women talking, metal clanging, and a TV blaring. The pod was divided into a large open area with a staircase in the center, a few metal tables bolted to the floor, and 24 single-woman cells lining the walls. Each cell contained a low cot, a shower, a toilet, a small nightstand, and a few personal belongings. The guard on duty was encased in a glass booth on the second floor. Though the guard could close the cell doors, they were always open when I visited, the women permitted to move relatively freely through what everyone called “the tank.”
That first day in August 2018, I
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