From The New Plantation
Lessons from Rikers Island That first morning, I was stopped by the correction officers just before the bridge that leads to the 413-acre, liver-shaped island in the middle of the East River between Queens and the Bronx. I was struck by how bored the COs acted. It was as if they were telling me there was nothing I could possibly do that would surprise them. In my younger days, I would have taken that as a challenge—if nothing else, I would have provided them with a bit of Dadaist theater to get them to react. But not today. For the first time in my life, I had a chance at a job I actually wanted. They checked my new ID card and gave me a temporary parking pass. I drove... Read more...
