The Horrors I Witnessed While Working for a Child Prison

<p>In my early twenties, I found myself with a teaching degree and no job. As Providence would have it, I found a &ldquo;camp&rdquo; looking for certified teachers. This &ldquo;camp&rdquo; was actually for teenage boys to serve their time for &ldquo;criminal&rdquo; behavior.</p> <p>My job, as described to me, would be to teach in the classroom. I was excited. I became a teacher to help students in need. These students would probably need me more than any other.</p> <p>I was young and ignorant but even my interview foreshadowed things to come. I walked into the director&rsquo;s office. He looked at me, nodded, offered me an amount, and told me I had the job.</p> <p>No questions.</p> <p>It didn&rsquo;t take long to understand why. Finding a certified teacher with a Master&rsquo;s degree to agree to work at this &ldquo;camp&rdquo; was nearly impossible. Furthermore, I was a big Black guy, a benefit in the world I was entering.</p> <p><a href="https://aninjusticemag.com/the-horrors-i-witnessed-while-working-for-a-child-prison-f41fbac15a65">Read More</a></p>