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Video Transcript
Judith DeVries was looking for something new. She had a deep desire to make an impact, to make a change. That change began when she met a prisoner called "The Ice Man." Read the transcript about her path from corporate life to teaching ex-offenders on Chicago's west side.
"Everybody deserves a chance to change."
When you look at people that way, that they deserve a chance to change, it happens. It happens for them, and it's happened for me. My grandfather, who was wonderful and influenced my life so much, said that privilege brings responsibility, and that responsibility meant what you did in the world other than your own world. And so all the time that I was working in corporate stuff and raising children, my first love was probably on the nonprofit side of things and social change. So I took myself out to the Cook County Jail. The Pace Program is there. It's a program for GEDs for prisoners. I was so fascinated by the people.
And then one day we went into group and there was one of the few Caucasian students that we had and tough, tough, tough, rough as nails. He was known only as "The Ice Man", and we could only address him that way. And we were talking about chances, that everybody has a chance to change and finding out what it is that you really want to do and do well and the good things about you; and he looked at me and he said, "Ms. Judith, I'm bad. I am just bad. I am so bad." And I said, "That's not true. Probably another way to think about it." And he said, "No, I am so bad, and I am going to tell you how bad I am. I'm so bad that this is what my mother had to do to me." And he lifted up his jail uniform, and he still had the imprint of a steam iron on his back; and I knew I could never leave. My advisor Catherine told me that when I was beginning my program, she said, "Judith..." I said, "I don't know what I want to do. I just know I want to do something different." And she said, "Judith, you must FIND THE THING THAT YOU CAN'T NOT DO." And I'll be thankful to Ice Man probably the rest of my life because he showed me what I couldn't not do.
And then I arrived at St. Leonard's, and we all met, and we were going to design a high school diploma program for ex-offenders. And our commitment to them was: we will be the first people in your lives – certain area educational lives – that are here to help you succeed, not try to find ways for you to fail. And if you'll make that commitment to us, we will award you a high school diploma in one semester. These are some of the strongest, bravest, brightest, most courageous people that I've ever known in my life.
We have a student, Tanitha Dale in her late 50s – very little educational experience, very poor educational experience – that was able to come to graduation last year as an alum and as our first college graduate.
We had Mario, who was one from a horrible, horrible history. One of the angriest, angriest young men that I've ever met – a paraplegic in a wheelchair from a gang shooting that he greatly resented – angry, bitter. And Mario became a writer who's had letters, articles, and letters to the editor written about him and led the graduation procession in his wheelchair with his child on his lap.
It just is the most wonderful learning experience for me that I could've ever had in my life.
I've said before that the beginning of going back to school and changing from corporate stuff, that I was all about... you know, I was going to do something about social change and would do that but had no idea. And eight years or so ago, if anybody had told me that where that was going to be, that it wouldn't be, you know, as an executive director of a nonprofit agency, but that I was going to end up teaching in the Cook County Jail, and that I would end up teaching in a high school diploma program on the west side of Chicago for ex-offenders, I would've laughed out loud. And if somebody told me today I could never do this again, I would cry.
"Everybody deserves a chance to change."
When you look at people that way, that they deserve a chance to change, it happens. It happens for them, and it's happened for me. My grandfather, who was wonderful and influenced my life so much, said that privilege brings responsibility, and that responsibility meant what you did in the world other than your own world. And so all the time that I was working in corporate stuff and raising children, my first love was probably on the nonprofit side of things and social change. So I took myself out to the Cook County Jail. The Pace Program is there. It's a program for GEDs for prisoners. I was so fascinated by the people.
And then one day we went into group and there was one of the few Caucasian students that we had and tough, tough, tough, rough as nails. He was known only as "The Ice Man", and we could only address him that way. And we were talking about chances, that everybody has a chance to change and finding out what it is that you really want to do and do well and the good things about you; and he looked at me and he said, "Ms. Judith, I'm bad. I am just bad. I am so bad." And I said, "That's not true. Probably another way to think about it." And he said, "No, I am so bad, and I am going to tell you how bad I am. I'm so bad that this is what my mother had to do to me." And he lifted up his jail uniform, and he still had the imprint of a steam iron on his back; and I knew I could never leave. My advisor Catherine told me that when I was beginning my program, she said, "Judith..." I said, "I don't know what I want to do. I just know I want to do something different." And she said, "Judith, you must FIND THE THING THAT YOU CAN'T NOT DO." And I'll be thankful to Ice Man probably the rest of my life because he showed me what I couldn't not do.
And then I arrived at St. Leonard's, and we all met, and we were going to design a high school diploma program for ex-offenders. And our commitment to them was: we will be the first people in your lives – certain area educational lives – that are here to help you succeed, not try to find ways for you to fail. And if you'll make that commitment to us, we will award you a high school diploma in one semester. These are some of the strongest, bravest, brightest, most courageous people that I've ever known in my life.
We have a student, Tanitha Dale in her late 50s – very little educational experience, very poor educational experience – that was able to come to graduation last year as an alum and as our first college graduate.
We had Mario, who was one from a horrible, horrible history. One of the angriest, angriest young men that I've ever met – a paraplegic in a wheelchair from a gang shooting that he greatly resented – angry, bitter. And Mario became a writer who's had letters, articles, and letters to the editor written about him and led the graduation procession in his wheelchair with his child on his lap.
It just is the most wonderful learning experience for me that I could've ever had in my life.
I've said before that the beginning of going back to school and changing from corporate stuff, that I was all about... you know, I was going to do something about social change and would do that but had no idea. And eight years or so ago, if anybody had told me that where that was going to be, that it wouldn't be, you know, as an executive director of a nonprofit agency, but that I was going to end up teaching in the Cook County Jail, and that I would end up teaching in a high school diploma program on the west side of Chicago for ex-offenders, I would've laughed out loud. And if somebody told me today I could never do this again, I would cry.
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