“I Need More Speakers!”

Liar!

Thief!

Would you have guessed upon learning about my illustrious professional life and esteemed career that I was once the by-product of a neglectful father who made “cameo” appearances throughout my life and a mother who sought emotional solace by marrying nearly ten times?

Ugh!

To counter my gross parental abandonments and the onslaught of innumerable childhood deprivations, I resorted to stealing from local stores, boutiques, schools, restaurants, people, businesses, and eventually homes. Undetected, I became more and more embolden and confident with my acquired skills as I continued successfully stealing merchandise, food, and lots of money.

Heck, the only place that was immune to my thievery was the church! Ironically, respected and honored God too much to have had the gonads to swipe from Him.

Anyway, one day in spite of video surveillance, unwisely upped the ante by taking my crime spree to a local bank. Needless to say, my brazen and thieving azz got caught. This was the first of two instances that for some inexplicable reason I am still perplexed as to why my criminal antics were never reported, of course, to po po (police).

Was it by the grace of God?

Regardless, like most crooks, still felt invincible, much too cocky, and unrepentant to heed any earthly and heavenly warning signs!

Idiot!

As an impoverished kid and due to familial circumstances that I inherited, felt compelled as the eldest kid to steal because I sorely needed to provide crumbs for my siblings, as well as, buy the much needed clothing for our naked black behinds! Unfortunately, as a juvenile, saw no other legitimate means to my quagmire nor did any caring adult or program rescued me or gave me alternative solutions or viable options for my dire and sickening situation.

Bottom-line, strongly felt that this damn life gave me no other choices but to continue perfecting my thievishness.

Adding to my sterling reputation as a villainess I also became a scurrilous liar who had crafted a cool-headed countenance and persona. During my innumerable “thieving” escapades, no one ever suspected that my sweet, innocent Sunday school demeanor actually harbored malevolent attempts and concealed malfeasance intents on “grabbing and stashing.”

So, with bravado and growing pride, by cleverly managing to escape arrests, wrath, and judicial punishment 99.9% of the time, this conniving liar and Teflon thief felt immortal and always untouchable!

Decades later….

Life is certainly cyclical. Recently accepted an invitation to tour our local jail and as I walked the perimeter of the facility, kept remembering my past “misdeeds.” Needless to say, upon conclusion of that uncensored trip, I was an emotional wreck. Admittedly, I also haven’t been the same since that day.

Why?

As I peered into the daily life of imprisoned cons, how could I ever forget the searing images of where Andrea Giggetts SHOULD and COULD have been?

Surely, God had His merciful hands upon me!

Expressing it mildly, witnessed the net result of human carnage. Whether innocent or guilty, saw hundreds and hundreds of predominantly black males and black females who were chained, shackled, and stuffed like overcrowded sardines in a can but only this time each was behind stodgy steel doors with impenetrable, non-descript cement walls as their decor.

Historically, this scene was reminiscent of our enslaved African ancestors who were chained and plodded into the hull of stifling slave ships and compelled to endure months of suffocating and egregious conditions while being shipped to good ole America.

What a deep sense of shameful inhumanity to man!

Meanwhile….

Trickled feces, urine, blood, and vomit plastered the cell walls like wallpaper. Sane and insane inmates co-habitated. Unappetizing food resembled pigs’ slop. Piss filtered the air like scented candles. A kaleidoscope of colors only existed on the stylist clothing and shoes that I had worn. Otherwise, the oversized orange jump suit that each prisoner donned was their en vogue accessory.

Clink and clank was the only melodious tunes that reverberated throughout each cell block.

Razor-thin blankets warded off the whoosh from the frozen arctic air that blasted through the pipes on that cold, wintry day. Immovable metal bunks became one’s furniture! Being beaten by fellow inmates was customary, if not, ritualistic.

Finally, publicly defecating under inmates’ peering and lustful eyes was certainly not for the faint of heart!

Mercy!

Thought I had seen it all!

For dessert, one female and four male inmates punctuated this trip by giving their personal “scared straight” testimonies. Each would have won Golden Globes and Academy Awards for their riveting and gut-wrenching performances.

Tragically, each prisoner was no more than 19-years old with sentences ranging from 45 years to, in one case, two life sentences plus 50 years. In street-wise jargon, each told of how they evolved from “choir boys and girl” to gradually being “sucked” into a life of crime. Now, each will receive outrageous sentences even beyond their comprehension.

Dissecting their stories, we each shared commonalities. Poverty, neglect, hunger, insufficient nurturing, and other environmental factors beget innocent children to make rash adult decisions which most often result in detention centers, jails, and eventually, prison.

Ask me. Starvation compelled me to become a petty thief!

Sad!

Accompanying the inmates were Correctional Officers Wesley and Rivera. Both were seasoned veterans yet caring professionals whose sole purpose that day was to impress upon the minds and hearts of the invited guests that “crime equals time.”

But the most poignant statement made during this two hour presentation came from Officer Wesley who simply quipped, “I Need More Speakers.”

Translation: Inevitably the aforementioned youth will soon be slated for various prisons across the State of Florida. So, upon these kids/inmates departure, he is in “need” of a new crop of delinquent criminals to serve as his speakers for future group tours!

What a hell of a statement!

Reflectively thinking, I am convinced that this former thief was only able to “beat” her rap twice because God pricked the hearts of two “guardian angels.” Thankfully, both refused to report me to the authorities thus sparing me from becoming Wesley’s next “needed speaker.”

Life is definitely cyclical….

Ironically, I currently serve as a motivational speaker—but just not from the bile duct of a jail cell!