Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. ~ Robert Frost
Author Nancy Nau Sullivan is a stellar example that the choices we make in life make all the difference. What an extraordinary tale that leads to her upcoming publication. Please welcome Nancy as she explains the motivation behind The Boys of Alpha Block. ~ Donnell
By: Nancy Nau Sullivan
Author Nancy Nau Sullivan
I was standing in the kitchen of the old convent, talking to Mary Ann Cruthers, and moping. I’d taken over a job of teaching English to squirrely seventh graders at St. Joseph’s, and I hated it. It was my first full-time teaching job. I was ready to quit.
“No, don’t quit.” She leaned against the decrepit sink and sipped her coffee. “Prison would be perfect for you…” Her husband was a colonel in the sheriff’s department, and they were opening a charter school at the juvenile prison near Tampa.
I laughed. But then I thought about it, and that’s exactly what I did. Went off to teach in prison for five years. It was the best job I ever had. Fifteen years later, the novel is coming out, based on that experience—about a woman who teaches in a prison and gets mixed up in an escape plan. Some (most) of it is highly fantastical—and all the names are changed. But with some 10,000 hours spent teaching there, a lot of the drama has spilled over into the book. THE BOYS OF ALPHA BLOCK comes out from TouchPoint Press late this fall, date and cover TBA.
***
My first day of teaching at Alpha Juvenile Correctional Center was a knee-shaking event. I stood in the classroom and looked into the searing, angry eyes of Robert Peoples, first in line of eighteen boys about to enter the classroom for Language Arts. His dark gaze was unnerving. I looked around for the deputies. One was chewing a toothpick, laughing, and the other was eating chips. They were not paying the least bit of attention to the boys and to my growing anxiety. I soon learned that the revolving café klatch of deputies was common. But, at least, they were there to mitigate disruption, and for that I was grateful.
That first day, I wasn’t thinking much about language arts. I looked at Peoples. Attempted a smile of sorts. Still he stared, his broad face and the whites of his eyes desperate, longing. And angry.
I was intimidated, but I was there to teach. I focused. And 
then something happened. I walked to the front of the classroom, to the beat-up, grey metal desk, a tattered literature book open to Ernest Hemingway’s “A Day’s Wait.” A switch clicked on in my brain. I’d never been able to speak in public without a near catatonic fit, but, for some reason, the classroom was different.
I got this. There is nothing like a challenge.
The ratty textbook full of classic poems and short stories felt weighty, and good, in my hands. I loved what I talked about—reading and writing—and I was reasonably adept at it. Most of my students were listening, hands folded into tight knots on top of their desks.
Soon Robert Peoples surprised me. His head was in his notebook that first day. I’d glanced nervously in his direction, but he seemed absorbed in the lesson. Turned out, he was one of the few who came to Alpha with a solid middle school education. He soon sorted himself out to be an accomplished essayist. He wrote on themes of bad choices and remorse. He had common sense, and he sharpened it during his time out at Alpha. He had perspective on crime, his thinking was long-term, and his writing expressed that thought.
I realized I shouldn’t make snap judgments.
After Peoples left the correctional center, I got a letter from him. He didn’t go back to the hood and the “old familiar triggers” that would drag him down. He ended up studying accounting at Florida Central University. “Trying to make it, Miss Sullivan,” he wrote.
Hardly anything surprised me during those five years. Many of the boys had remarkable perspectives on what they’d lost and what they wanted to gain. I had to build on that. (Although I was doubtful that they’d probably never reach their dreams of playing for the NFL or making it as famous rappers. They had to dream.)
There were few inmates as talented as Robert Peoples, but there were some who came close. We stayed on task. I was not afraid of my students, not like the deputies were afraid of them. The boys were eager to get to work in the classroom—write essays and poetry—read stories, and diagram sentences. Clean the floor and sort the books. Who’d have figured?
They wore uniforms, like the fancy middle school kids, they had assignments to complete, a need of security and respect, and they all complained about rules. Always the rules! Kids today…
When they behaved and followed the rules, they were rewarded with a freedom, of sorts. Class was a reprieve and a privilege at Alpha. The alternative was a six-by-eight-foot cell. So, for the most part, I took advantage of that. We all took advantage, together.
That was the good part, but I tried not to fool myself. I also believed that when cornered they’d try to scratch their way out. Fend for themselves, one way or the other. And that is where the novel took off…
Stay tuned. Although I didn’t have to wrangle with an escape plan—for real—I did deal with plenty of disruption and drama. The novel, THE BOYS OF ALPHA BLOCK, coming soon.
THE BOYS OF ALPHA BLOCK by Nancy Nau Sullivan (TouchPoint Press, Fall 2020) The boys are planning an escape. They’re determined to break out of prison, but they don’t consider the frightening consequences of an attempt to make a run for it. When Tarvis arrives at Alpha Juvenile Correctional Center, he ignites the plan that Jesse, the ring leader, has been cooking up. He’s got the time line and the contacts. Rick is on shiv-making detail, and Julius is the fire that fuels their hate. As the plan rolls out, their teacher, Caroline McBride, knows something is up, but she doesn’t know what. The air is tense. At odds with the cruel deputy staff, she and William Bonner, the counselor—and her lover—hear the rumblings, but they can’t stop the inevitable. The big Friday blow up. The four finally escape, but freedom is as elusive as a dream.
About the Author: Nancy Nau Sullivan is a former newspaper journalist and English teacher. She taught at a boys’ prison outside of Tampa, Florida, for five years, and later in Argentina and in the Peace Corps in Mexico. She has a master’s degree in journalism from Marquette University. Nancy lives in Northwest Indiana. Find her at www.nancynausullivan.com.
Wow. That’s about all I can say. Just wow.
Barbara, that’s what I said. What amazing inspiration to write a novel.
Sounds like a fascinating book!
To echo the previous comments, what an amazing experience and be able to draw from. I’m not sure I would have the courage to do what you did, so kudos for doing it, sticking with it, and having a positive effect on these kids.
Incredibly fascinating!
I’ve seen a bit of this book in editing stages, and I’m eagerly awaiting its release so I can buy a copy and read the whole thing.
Your words ring so true. I remember my own feelings as a young first-time teacher of high-school English. Though I never taught in a juvenile detention center, later I was responsible for involving “graduates” of the system in a non-profit youth-advisory board. I saw their eyes. I can’t wait to read your book!
What an experience! Glad it worked out so well. My cousin taught females inmates how to train service dogs and loved everything about that job.
Wow, Barbara, Donnell, Eve, Helen, Vicki, Kathleen, Patricia, and Kaye! I love all your comments. Thank you, and now I have links to your amazing websites and books…May our adventures continue!
I had the privilege of reading an advance copy of THE BOYS OF ALPHA BLOCK. Yes, it is as compelling as the interview suggests. Nancy Nau Sullivan is a talented writer, fully in control of her material.
I loved teaching High School, tried Middle School and came home crying… couldn’t handle it. I think teaching in a prison would be challenging. Enjoyed your post!
Arthur, thank you for these lovely words. Your help on the book was spot on, a big boost! Karen, same for me. Middle school about did me in, but my “felons” were a captive audience. Sorry, couldn’t resist (and that’s what they called themselves).
I appreciate the comments, and Donnell’s gracious hosting!