Opinion: A CT prisoner's gratitude for education

August 11, 2026 - 01:19

We are not students in the true sense of that word, and we are not permitted to fully commit or engage in the educational experience. That is the reality for many of us serving time in Connecticut's correctional facilities. We sit in cramped classrooms with thin, worn-out textbooks, our attention split between the lesson and the constant hum of the unit. We cannot stay after class to ask a question, we cannot visit the library on a whim, and we cannot form study groups that meet outside designated hours. Yet, despite these barriers, education remains the single most powerful tool we have for changing the trajectory of our lives.

For me, it started with a single GED prep course. I was skeptical at first, expecting the same condescending tone I had heard in school as a kid. But the instructor treated us like adults, not like failures. She did not ask why we had ended up here, only what we wanted to learn. That small shift in perspective was enough to spark something. I began to read on my own, not because I had to, but because I wanted to understand the world I had ignored for so long. Now, I am working through a college-level correspondence program, one that arrives in thick manila envelopes every few weeks.

I am grateful for this chance, but I am also honest about its limits. The system gives us just enough to keep hope alive, but not enough to truly thrive. We are not allowed to forget where we are. Still, I hold onto that gratitude. It is a quiet rebellion against the idea that we are beyond saving. Every page I turn, every problem I solve, is a step away from the person I was and a step toward the person I can still become. That is not something they can take from me.