Did They Deserve This
Newcam: 2010: Part Four
(April 4, 2010)
Being educated at a private school came with its share of privileges. Among those was EDGE day. I can't remember for the life of me what the acronyms stood for (something along the lines of "Educated Dynamic Gifted Enrichment" or something with an educational slur to it), but essentially every Middle School student was required each year to attend a form of learning that was "outside" of the regular curriculum. The options varied to fit the wishes of students who didn't want to attempt something as "dangerous" as surfing. Students like myself who would much prefer sitting on the beach and watching the waves than experiencing it first-hand.
In my first year of Middle School, I decided to select one of the safer investments: a visit to the island of Alcatraz in San Francisco. I was still at a point in my life where I saw no need to "break free from my comfort zone" and visiting an abandoned prison seemed like a much more appealing adventure than para-skiing or whatever it was the other kids were doing. Much to my surprise, my Middle School crush had also chosen Alcatraz, despite her athleticism and socializing nature. She had severely broken her arm in a gymnastic accident and she was unable to attend the tightrope course that she so desperately wanted. Unfortunately, my group consisted of certain students who were on the anti-social spectrum of the cruel Middle School social hierarchy. It wasn't as much a discouragement as it seemed for my crush, but I forgot to take into account her easy-going personality. She wasn't bothered the slightest by the unusual cast of students.
Our first step into madness began with the boarding of the Alcatraz Flyer. It was quite a generic and unimaginative name, but the ship ran with no complaints and the seats were smooth and clean. It was clear that this wasn't a boat ride that everyone could afford, but I had to remind myself that this was a privately-funded ordeal.
The boat granted us a magnificent view of the bay as well as an unattractive view of the island, but also gave us the wonderful opportunity of seeing a gull fly while seemingly remain in one position. It's a bit unfortunate that I wasn't able to capture the moment on camera, but essentially the boat and the gull were flying at the same speeds in the same direction, only the gull was directly above the boat, giving everyone the impression that the gull was just floating in mid-air.
My perception of Alcatraz wasn't drastically altered by my visit, but I did dispel the idea that the island was merely a prison. Of course, that was its main function during the early 1900s, but it also served as its own neighborhood and protest center for Native Americans. Thus we can see the "INDIANS WELCOME" graffiti that pollutes the front gates.
One thing that the tour guides liked to emphasize was the sheer psychological torture that Alcatraz presented for its prisoners. I won't argue whether or not these men deserved prison, but did they deserve this? I always wondered if they deserved to look outside every morning and see a sprawling city with millions of happy people and know that somewhere their friends and family were going about their daily business. Did they deserve to live in total isolation, to be so close and yet so far away?
It wasn't just the torture that made the gears in my head turn. The living conditions for the prisoners were not very flattering. Showers were openly shared with no privacy and little room to move, halls were dirty and unkempt, and even the bedrooms didn't have the decency of giving anything more than a hole to use as a toilet. Each cell seemed to hold an ominous silence, as if somehow you weren't alone. If you were wondering about the glass, it was bulletproof. That smaller penetration next to the perfectly cut hole is the effect of machine gun ammunition against about a dozen layers of bulletproof glass.
It was in solitary confinement that everyone kept complete silence. There were no beds. There were no sinks. There wasn't even light, save the light that emitted from the outside world. I cannot even imagine what it must have been like to live in there for years; what kind of man did it take to deserve a punishment like that.
On a more positive note, the trip wasn't a completely depressing experience. I was given access to roam Alcatraz the majority of the day so any locations mentioned were areas that I had specific interests with, and I was also able to spend some quality time with my crush, which in every Middle School student's mind is the essential goal life.
(April 4, 2010)
Being educated at a private school came with its share of privileges. Among those was EDGE day. I can't remember for the life of me what the acronyms stood for (something along the lines of "Educated Dynamic Gifted Enrichment" or something with an educational slur to it), but essentially every Middle School student was required each year to attend a form of learning that was "outside" of the regular curriculum. The options varied to fit the wishes of students who didn't want to attempt something as "dangerous" as surfing. Students like myself who would much prefer sitting on the beach and watching the waves than experiencing it first-hand.
In my first year of Middle School, I decided to select one of the safer investments: a visit to the island of Alcatraz in San Francisco. I was still at a point in my life where I saw no need to "break free from my comfort zone" and visiting an abandoned prison seemed like a much more appealing adventure than para-skiing or whatever it was the other kids were doing. Much to my surprise, my Middle School crush had also chosen Alcatraz, despite her athleticism and socializing nature. She had severely broken her arm in a gymnastic accident and she was unable to attend the tightrope course that she so desperately wanted. Unfortunately, my group consisted of certain students who were on the anti-social spectrum of the cruel Middle School social hierarchy. It wasn't as much a discouragement as it seemed for my crush, but I forgot to take into account her easy-going personality. She wasn't bothered the slightest by the unusual cast of students.
Our first step into madness began with the boarding of the Alcatraz Flyer. It was quite a generic and unimaginative name, but the ship ran with no complaints and the seats were smooth and clean. It was clear that this wasn't a boat ride that everyone could afford, but I had to remind myself that this was a privately-funded ordeal.
The boat granted us a magnificent view of the bay as well as an unattractive view of the island, but also gave us the wonderful opportunity of seeing a gull fly while seemingly remain in one position. It's a bit unfortunate that I wasn't able to capture the moment on camera, but essentially the boat and the gull were flying at the same speeds in the same direction, only the gull was directly above the boat, giving everyone the impression that the gull was just floating in mid-air.
My perception of Alcatraz wasn't drastically altered by my visit, but I did dispel the idea that the island was merely a prison. Of course, that was its main function during the early 1900s, but it also served as its own neighborhood and protest center for Native Americans. Thus we can see the "INDIANS WELCOME" graffiti that pollutes the front gates.
One thing that the tour guides liked to emphasize was the sheer psychological torture that Alcatraz presented for its prisoners. I won't argue whether or not these men deserved prison, but did they deserve this? I always wondered if they deserved to look outside every morning and see a sprawling city with millions of happy people and know that somewhere their friends and family were going about their daily business. Did they deserve to live in total isolation, to be so close and yet so far away?
It wasn't just the torture that made the gears in my head turn. The living conditions for the prisoners were not very flattering. Showers were openly shared with no privacy and little room to move, halls were dirty and unkempt, and even the bedrooms didn't have the decency of giving anything more than a hole to use as a toilet. Each cell seemed to hold an ominous silence, as if somehow you weren't alone. If you were wondering about the glass, it was bulletproof. That smaller penetration next to the perfectly cut hole is the effect of machine gun ammunition against about a dozen layers of bulletproof glass.
It was in solitary confinement that everyone kept complete silence. There were no beds. There were no sinks. There wasn't even light, save the light that emitted from the outside world. I cannot even imagine what it must have been like to live in there for years; what kind of man did it take to deserve a punishment like that.
On a more positive note, the trip wasn't a completely depressing experience. I was given access to roam Alcatraz the majority of the day so any locations mentioned were areas that I had specific interests with, and I was also able to spend some quality time with my crush, which in every Middle School student's mind is the essential goal life.
Great summary, Jeeps. What beautiful, open blue sky and water--such a contrast to the enclosed spaces the prisoners endured!
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