CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
2000- Up North
It was December. I was 23 years old.
12 months ago, I dreamed of being a civilian.
Now I was an inmate.
After 3 months of mental anguish languishing in Rikers, the NY Bureau of Prisons was finally shuffling me around, running me through the gauntlet of processing points.
First, they had me at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility- the maximum-security joint in Westchester. But that was just a brief stopover to log me into the system.
Then they loaded me into a mini-bus and eventually let me know that I was being transported to Beacon Correctional Facility, up in Poughkeepsie.
Fun fact- Beacon was New York State's only minimum-security facility for women.
I mean, I wasn’t excited but I knew I would be okay doing 2, 2 and a half years there.
Little did I know that I’d walk out of that place with an understanding that solid female friendships were a crucial factor in the development of my soul.
