There is a magical place at Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility in San Diego, California. Superhero posters and anime artwork adorn the walls. Nerdy games like Dungeons & Dragons and Pathfinder pile up on the back table. Sci-fi and fantasy books occupy the filing cabinet, along with cards from the game Magic: The Gathering.
For my group of nerdy friends, this room is our sanctuary.
Most people in prison wear a mask to hide who they really are. I suppose that happens in the outside world too, but the effect is amplified in here. In the Nerd Room, no one has to pretend to be someone they aren’t. Like-minded people of all ages, genders and ethnicities gather here as equals, and we let our true weird selves out. If someone doesn’t like our quirkiness, that’s just fine. We don’t care what other people think. In this room, we can drop our masks and shelter each other from the storm of prison life.
The history of the Nerd Room is a result of a forward-thinking administration working together with the incarcerated population. Donovan is home to Echo Yard, a unique unit established in 2017 that supports a wide range of pilot programs. Far from the skull-cracker prison guards of the 1990s, corrections officers in Echo Yard are generally friendly. They encourage us to talk to them and to join or start special interest groups, which individuals or groups can submit proposals for, like the Nerd Room. I have been in three prisons and have never seen anything like this before.
The Nerd Room is kind of like the apartment from the TV show “Friends.” It’s open all day, and we drop in at random times. All are welcome, but the regulars are there every day.
Ruben is a lip-sync master of every song that comes on the radio. Eric will argue about anything with full confidence (yet no evidence) that he is right. Brad is my fellow writer, and a Jedi, and an Eagle Scout. Sam is my cellmate. Jay goes on two-hour entertaining rants, but he’ll get bored and tune out when someone else wants to talk about something. Justin reminds me of the fat kid from the movie, “The Sandlot” (I’m fat too, so I can say this). Steve is punk rock and absurd, one of the many reasons we are friends. Travis has hair like Kramer from “Seinfeld”; we plan to go to Ibiza together if we ever get out. Gwen is the girl in the group, and cooler than us, just like in the movies. And Chris, the craftsman, is the only other nerd who listens to Nightwish, a Scandinavian metal band that I love.
These are my friends, the Nerds.
In the Nerd Room, every nerd’s birthday is recognized, whether they want it to be or not. Jay doesn’t because he’s an anarchist. Gwen dislikes obligations of any kind. And Eric would just rather not be involved. But we force them, and we have at least one birthday per month. Everybody pitches in what they can. Sam always makes birthday cakes. He’s going broke doing it, but he doesn’t tell anyone because it’s important to him that birthdays are properly celebrated.
Birthdays can be a sad and sore subject in prison. A lot of people bury their birthday along with their past life from outside, letting the day pass unrecognized. I used to be like that. I would feel deeply depressed for the few weeks leading up to my birthday. The day was a reminder of my failures as a man, and of the life I took and those I ruined with the ripple effects of my crime.
But that changed when I joined the Nerd Room. My community of friends helped me see my life as something to celebrate.
Some of the nerds don’t have family outside. Justin has developmental disabilities and grew up in group homes. We are the first real family he has ever had. We all go out of our way to teach him things, and he teaches us too. That’s what real family does. They also stick together. Brad and I both have sentences of life without parole. We both have a few family members, but they abandoned us years ago when we first went to prison. That happens more often than people think, and it hurts like hell.
We are happy for our friends like Justin who have a release date. But we are all going to miss each other when that day comes. Whether we get transferred to another prison, released or die, we rarely have the means to stay in touch. So I’m cherishing these little moments in the Nerd Room.
This is why a space like the Nerd Room is so important to us. It’s not just a place where we can relax and have great conversations. It’s a place where it’s safe to be who we really are and express the feelings prison forces us to hide. It’s both the treehouse we never got to have as kids, and the family we need to survive as adults.