In a U.S. prison, an education from Mexico
Curriculum prepares immigrants for life after they're let out, deported
By ZELIE POLLON / Special Contributor to The Dallas Morning News
MILAN, N.M. – There is no bell marking 2 p.m. Still, prisoners have gathered in the hallway, dozens in front of each door, waiting for their teacher to arrive.
It's school time.
The classes are part of a groundbreaking educational program targeting
Mexican citizens at the Cibola County Correctional Center in Milan, N.M.,
a federal
deportation facility. The goal is to provide schooling that the inmates
– a majority of whom are from Mexico – can use when they are released.
This is no GED program. It's distinctly Mexican, providing the basic
education expected south of the border, known as the primaria curriculum
– essentially
elementary school, followed by secundaria and preparatoria, equivalent
to junior high and high school education.
A partnership with the Mexican government, which funds the program almost
entirely, allows all education credits to transfer. The inmates, who are
serving no more
than five years, can pick up their schooling once they are returned
home. Those who complete high school equivalency or more have a much better
chance of finding
work and earning higher wages.
"What we've done is make their education relevant by working with their
country of origin," said Richard Trafton, educational director for Corrections
Corp. of
America's Cibola center. The federal government has contracted with
the company to house deportable individuals.
"They know they have to go home, and Mexico is a credentialed society, so this will allow them to get ahead," Mr. Trafton said.
A regular federally required GED for prisoners didn't make any sense for people who don't speak English and who couldn't use the credit in Mexico, he said.
'Benefits are enormous'
The cost of the program, which started in July 2000, is "minimal" for
the Mexican government and rolls into the federal education plan of that
country, where
education is free, said Albuquerque's Mexican consul, Juan Solana,
who has worked closely on the project. Mr. Trafton estimates a U.S. equivalent
would cost
roughly $35,000 a year to establish, not including personnel to implement
the curricula.
"The process is already set. We just print some more books – and the
benefits are enormous," Mr. Solana said. "We're opening [this education
program] to the
United States because the only way we're going to increase productivity
in Mexico is by giving [inmates] a better life. And it decreases the chance
that they'll come
back to the United States."
The start-up costs include roughly 3,800 hours to train inmates as tutors,
plus six full-time education staff members and the cost of exams. The program
runs classes
from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. and uses the Mexican school system's written
materials, videos and satellite hookups.
"I prefer to call this a repatriation center," said Mr. Trafton, 60,
a former Oregon judge and university professor who had the idea to change
the prison's education
program.
Mexicans average three years of school and typically can earn up to
only $5 a day, Mr. Trafton said. Of the 90,000 Mexican citizens incarcerated
in the United
States, many were caught with illegal drugs; some simply ventured over
the border. Many know that education is the key to a better life.
Because of "heightened security concerns," authorities would not allow inmates to be interviewed.
Joaquina Galindo is co-coordinator of the program and one of the few
staff members fluent in Spanish. She said she is inspired in part by her
life experience – she
arrived in the United States from Chihuahua, Mexico, decades ago with
a doctorate in bacteriology and parasitology. But when she went to enroll
in an American
school, she was told her education credits were invalid; she had to
get a GED.
Such experiences aside, Ms. Galindo, who lived illegally for 13 years, said her main goal is to create better citizens among those returning to Mexico.
"I want to see their dreams come true – to have a better life and family, to be better parents and better citizens," she said.
She walks down the hall, and inmates flock to her.
"I want to go to art class. What do I do?" asks one inmate, pulling
at her sleeve. Another wants to share his grades. Still another talks about
his upcoming class. "I
need more workbooks for the men," he tells her.
"They work very hard here because they know how important it is," Ms. Galindo said.
Since the program began two years ago, more than 80 percent of the 1,000
prisoners in the Milan facility have attended classes regularly. The library,
which once
held seven books in Spanish, has more than 4,000 Spanish titles and
is often packed with inmates.
Mr. Trafton said fewer than 1 percent of inmates have dropped out of
the program, which lasts about 11/2 years for elementary and junior high,
another two years
for high school and up to three years for a university education, when
that is offered.
He said the program increases national pride because inmates know they will have more opportunities once they return home.
Hitting the books
Grown men are inspired to spend hours bent over first-grade workbooks.
They want to learn to read, write, add, subtract, and make music. There
are electrical,
masonry and blueprint-making classes ("So they can build their own
homes when they get back," Ms. Galindo said). When there is room, plumbing
and carpentry
will be added. High exam scores reflect the program's success, officials
say.
Both program coordinators want to see the effort expanded throughout America in prisons holding Mexican citizens.
Following the success of Cibola, a similar project started in California City, Calif. Big Spring, Texas, might be next in line.
In August, 300 students graduated in a gym ceremony attended by Mexico's top education brass. Another 100 will graduate in May.
"The tears were streaming down their faces, they were so proud," said Mr. Trafton, who dreams of "education without borders."
"As quaint as it sounds, I think good health care and education should be for everyone. Good education makes good neighbors."
Mr. Solana agrees and said any prison interested in the education program will surely benefit itself and its inmates.
"When people study, they are less likely to get in trouble. At the same time, we're giving them a future."
Zelie Pollon is a Santa Fe, N.M., freelance writer.