Education was always a challenge for me.
By the time I was in second grade, my mom could no longer help me with homework. When she was a child, she said, she had rheumatic fever, an inflammatory disease, and had to leave school. She never mastered reading, spelling or math. So my siblings and I grew up without that help at home, and it left us behind in school.
When I was a senior in high school, I became pregnant and dropped out.
At 20, with a baby and another on the way, I tried to go back to school, but it was too hard. I was living with my aunt and uncle, who worked all the time, and I felt emotionally overwhelmed. I started looking for love in the wrong places. After reconciling with my children’s father and having a third child, things still didn’t work. A few months after my daughter was born, we split up. I began using drugs, and the people I surrounded myself with led me into more trouble.
In prison, I started searching for a better future. My own education had always felt unfinished, but it wasn’t until prison that I began to face it directly. My life was falling apart, but I wanted to be a better role model for my children and my two grandsons, whom I’ve never met.
My problem was that I never believed in myself.
But eventually I took a first step and signed up for a program at the State Correctional Institution at Muncy — run in partnership with Penn State University — in which a facilitator pairs incarcerated tutors with incarcerated learners. Since the Penn State/Muncy Tutoring Program began, more than 260 students have participated. When you walk into the classroom, you see shelves full of books. Two women usually work quietly at a table, some with calculators, some with educational games. And Ms. Roush, the facilitator, always greets us with a smile.
Over time, I realized the people here genuinely believed education was important. For me, this room became a safe place.
Education in prison can be a lifeline. Nearly 75% of people in state prisons never finished high school or are considered “low literate,” according to data from the Bureau of Justice Statistics. I was one of them. For years, I felt stuck in an educational desert. But when I joined the tutoring program, I found something I’d never had before: real support. I’ve been to other institutions and none offered anything close.
Ms. Roush was instrumental. Her ability to pair learners and tutors is a big reason the program works. Tutors volunteer, and each learner agrees to attend three sessions a week. Subjects include math, reading, language, science and social studies. Many women also use the program to support vocational learning. Right now, I’m working to raise my test scores so I can go to college.
When I first walked into tutoring, I was nervous. I didn’t know what to expect, and after my first bad test score, I told myself, “I can’t do this.” But with time, I improved. The program has helped me see that I can learn if I work hard.
Ms. Amy, my tutor since 2023, has challenged me and believed in me from the beginning. She’s the reason I stopped saying “I can’t.”
“Boy, have you changed,” she told me recently. “You don’t use that word anymore, and that’s great.”
Several moments stood out to her. One was when we worked on algebra. At first, I said “I can’t” every time, until one day it suddenly clicked. The joy I felt was so overwhelming that I kept asking her for more problems. Another was after I passed a test, and my confidence soared. A third moment came when I worked on an article after graduation and was accepted into Prison Journalism Project’s writers’ workshop.
Ms. Amy was drawn to the tutoring program as soon as she saw it. She had been in other institutions but said none had the same resources. “It should be modeled everywhere,” she said.
Research proves what I’ve lived. In Pennsylvania, 62% of prisoners never finished high school. Prison education makes a difference: High school courses reduce recidivism to 55%, vocational training to 30%. With an associate degree, the rate drops to 13.7%; a bachelor’s, 5.6%; and a master’s, almost zero.
I wanted to prove to my family that I could change my life, and I did. On April 1, 2024, I got my high school diploma. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my tutor, Ms. Amy, the program coordinator, Ms. Roush, and the principal, Dr. Rider, who all believed in me from the beginning. They gave me the courage to keep going, and now I’m working toward the next step.
As Ms. Roush said, “The success is increased confidence for the participants as well as numerous educational gains.”
Now, I want to go to college, but opportunities are limited. Prison policies, waiting lists and lack of funding make higher education almost impossible. Correspondence courses are rare, and programs like Adams State University’s are available only in certain states. Platforms like Edovo, which offer digital classes to incarcerated people with tablets, aren’t available in Pennsylvania.
Still, I’m determined. The tutoring program showed me I can learn, and it gave me the courage to keep moving forward. Education helped me believe in myself again. I’m determined to keep learning — for my children, my grandsons, and for the life I know I can still build.
