As they ushered me through the mechanical gates of the Hagerstown Correctional Institution, I couldn't help but feel a wave of guilty excitement wash over me. But the weight of the metal bars and the stern faces of the guards seemed to suffocate any semblance of hope that lingered in the air. They told me I smiled too much, unfit conduct for a prison. Like an innocent little girl who couldn't be read. Truth is, I was a little girl. I was 21, trying to poker face my way through our first meeting. On the surface, I seemed poised, bold, nonchalant. But deep down I desperately wanted to connect, build, and learn.