Updates on my bro: A Memorial Day visit, a pen pal, and podcast
Here's the latest.
Hi Readers,
Hello to my new subscribers! Thank you for signing up. I can't tell you how happy I feel when I get an email saying I have someone new on my list! Welcome, and please feel free to email me or leave a comment.
Before jumping into today's newsletter, I wanted to share what a new subscriber wrote recently. She found my Substack through WriteAPrisoner.com, a pen pal service I signed my brother up for. (I wrote about this previously.) I hoped it would encourage my brother to get out of his funk and connect with new people on the outside.
(Feel free to message my brother by using the button below.)
Since signing him up, my brother mentioned he received a few letters from people, but I wasn't sure what kinds of letters he was getting. I'm so happy this reader took the time to tell me a little about her story and why she wrote to my brother.
Her kindness moved me so much that I shared it with my mom and sister. I hope he writes her back.
This is what she wrote:
Claire, I just wanted to know that I've reached out to your brother as a penpal. I actually initially saw your profile for him on write a prisoner and resonated with your post. I have a childhood friend that is closer to me than my own brother, who's currently incarcerated in Georgia. He has suffered from bipolar disorder since he was 12. We actually met at 12 and 13 when we were in a facility for teens with mental illness.
I was able to stay treated, go to college, and become successful. He has not, and I can feel your love and pain as you write about Isaac. I think that it's awesome what you're doing for your brother and I've enjoyed reading about your love of him. I hope that my correspondence with him will help him and give him some ray of hope. I just wanted to share my story personally to you to know there are many like us.
Please keep up your work with him!
OK, on to today's newsletter! It's about a recent visit to my bro over Memorial Weekend.
Another quick update: I was on a podcast called Crime and Compassion. I hope you'll watch. The video below is the intro to the podcast.
Sometimes, I feel like a sham for having this Substack about my brother. There are days when I feel like a terrible sister because I don't want to see his long string of bizarre text messages on my phone, nor do I want to pick up his calls. Many days, I wish I didn't have to deal with him. (Read What Motivates People to Want to Change for more context.)
I know it's normal to have these kinds of feelings–not everyone who has a loved one in prison is going to be optimistic all the time. Then, the Crime and Compassion podcast was released. I recorded it last year, so I don't recall exactly what I said. I watched the recording and felt my message didn't align with how I was treating my brother lately. I felt bad.
My frustration gets the best of me, but I'm learning to check in and give myself reminders to let things go. I have to tell myself that things will get better; I just do not know right now, and that's OK.
My sister and I went to see my bro over Memorial weekend. Let me add how lovely it was to go over a holiday weekend because the traffic was very light!
A week before my visit, my brother called me to ask me for $40 for his tablet. Money has become a sensitive topic because I feel like he is ungrateful for the funds my sister and I send him every month. Not to mention the quarterly care packages that cost a few hundred dollars.
Earlier this year, I attempted to reduce his canteen (the prison store) money to $30 and told him that if he wanted more, he would have to "work for it." I asked him to read a chapter in any of the books I sent him and write a 750-word summary, which he could do on the prison tablet via text message.
I told him, "Remember the book reports you did in elementary school? Give me a summary of what you thought about the chapter." I offered $10 for each summary. I got zero summaries.
I also encouraged him to take a class or program and said I'd pay him to sign up and do the homework. After I declared this and a few months went by, he didn't ask me for money but said he "starved" because you "can't get shit at canteen for $30."
My plan failed.
I felt guilty and didn't want him to starve, so I gave him $70, which wasn't as much as the standard $120 I gave him. His response to my $70 was, "Guess I'll starve again." I hoped he'd make the difference and work for the rest of the funds.
He did not.
I sort of gave up and sent him his regular amount over the last few months because I felt terrible. Maybe he's not ready to do what I ask.
But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. So when my brother called and asked me for $40 to replenish his tablet–I was already irritated. We argued–my brother asking why I give him such a hard time when it's "only $40" and that he "hates asking me for money now." Then, he hung up on me.
When I visited him that following Saturday, I wanted to address the awkwardness as soon as we sat down. Hanging up on me was not cool.
The visit started off hot. I reminded him that he hung up on me. 🤨
My brother raised his voice, saying this whole "education" thing I keep pushing on him is really annoying. He said prison is not a place where rock stars are bred. He said, "Taking one class will not change me or turn me into some smart or incredible human being. It's not going to change me."
Our voices grew louder, and my sister chimed in to try to keep the peace. She calmly said that taking a class and trying to learn something new is like exercising or losing weight. No one will lose weight or get buff from lifting weights once. You have to keep at it. You'll be sore, your body will hate it, you will hate it, but then, you'll start to see changes. You'll begin to see some payoff and mentally feel better, too. Before prison, my brother went through a boxing phase. He went to a boxing gym and talked about how strong he felt. I recall how in shape he'd gotten then, a far cry from how he looks today with his long hair, ghostly-white complexion, and weight gain.
During the visit, he looked like he was going to cry. His eyes were downcast, and his lips were pursed tightly. I think a good old-fashioned cry would have been good for him, but he didn't shed any tears.
Instead, I felt his anger and frustration. I tried to put on my therapy hat and asked him if he could share how he was feeling because it would help me understand his situation better. From all the books I've read and podcasts I've listened to about supporting someone emotionally, I knew I had to make my brother feel like I was on his side. I was not doing a very good job of that.
He said, "When this visit ends, you get to go home. Me? I have to take all this (alluding to our conversation) back to my cell."
As he continued talking, I realized how angry he was. He seemed to blame the world and the injustice of being in prison. He still takes no accountability for his actions.
He was so upset that he didn't even touch the Almond Joy I bought for him. Usually, during these visits, he eats at least three candy bars. He also refused to take a photo, which was a bummer since they don't always have the people who take photos available.
To make him feel like I was on his side, I apologized for insisting he take a class and told him it wasn't my intention to make him feel bad about himself.
Apologizing helped calm him down, and seeing him finally express his true feelings was refreshing. It boggles my mind that he has such a hard time talking about his feelings, but I remember when I didn't have the skills or knowledge to do this either.
So, after he let out some steam, the tension eased, but I could tell my brother was still upset. We talked about my sister's recent trip to Korea and how my mom was recovering from her broken hip.
I see this visit as a mini-breakthrough. He finally expressed something genuine. After we left, he called us when we were almost on the freeway. I took it as a good sign and that maybe this visit didn't make him feel shitty about himself.
Thank you for sharing this. Reading your experiences with your brother helps me understand how I can try and support my younger brother throughout these next 20 years. You are a wonderful sister!
I love everything about this painfully honest, raw, transparent post. Each time you write, we get to know a little more about your brother and your family’s journey supporting a loved one in prison. Thank you for sharing and for helping us see the real experience you’re going through. What a gift you and your writing are to us all.