I have been in a bit of a quandary the last several months. For years I have been a corespondent/mentor for several men in prison. It all began with two young men I met in Brooklyn. These two brothers made a deep impression on me and every time I went back to Brooklyn I crossed their paths. Then one year one of them was not there. His brother told me that he was incarcerated at Riker's Island. We wrote him a letter and visited him before we left the state. This embarked me on a long journey of studying the prison system and writing to inmates. You see, this one man I was writing to encouraged others to write me as well. I believe that at one point I was writing letters to at least ten men, counseling them, encouraging them, and often helping them in ways that I now realize I shouldn't have. (i.e. helping them find addresses of people on the outside) I owe my college degree to these men, because it was in writing to them and desiring to make a difference in the future of prisoners that I found the inspiration to return to college, to excel, and to graduate with a degree in Sociology.
This is where the indecision part comes in.