Exploring the life lessons taught to me by kids from the ghetto that were incarcerated at Illinois State Training School for Girls (later called Illinois State Training School after males were sentenced there). You’re welcome to share the journey with me and I’d love to hear your comments.

I couldn’t understand the African American accent and expressions like “jive time’, ‘dozens’, ‘your momma’ and ‘square’ (cigarettes), left me bewildered. And I missed the verbs – ‘You ok, Miss Livett’ confounded my grammatically correct ear. Although the roots of rap were already there, the music didn’t exist to educate the masses to the rich and vibrant culture of black Americans. I was middle-class-stupid and was in the classroom of my life.

I remember a beautiful girl, Denise, 11 years old and incarcerated for truancy. She would sit in the TV room at night and rock forward and back, forward and back, her arms encircling her body in an attempted hug. Taking a young girl out of her family home for truancy was and is a terrible thing to do. Her innocence was exposed to older and wilder girls that had life experiences Denise couldn’t comprehend. She was a beautiful, innocent child and you can bet if she’d been white, she would never have heard of ‘Geneva’.

Her identity was never discovered so no one could be notified. Friends and family that knew her, loved her and grieved for her never found out what happened or where she is.

Before boys, the girls would ‘go steady’ with each other. Couples were evident by their dress – slips or petticoats hung a few inches below the hem of the state issue dresses. Socks were mixed and matched between couples. A red sock on the right foot, yellow on the left matched the mirror reverse on the other half of the couple.

The inmates were only a few years younger than me. Most were smart though not educated; most came from inner city Chicago – ‘the ghetto’. Most were born into poverty and I into security. They’re black; I’m white. My color and social standing bestowed ‘privilege’ on me – a valuable commodity that those kids didn’t have access to.

Link to photos of Geneva Girls School Department of Corrections circa 1900.

One of the guys I knew the longest at Geneva was Mike (not his real name). He walked into my office for the first time, looking like an old, decrepit man. He didn’t or couldn’t look up. His face was drawn and bony; his body thin, shriveled and folded down onto itself. His affect was [...]

Thousands of children are being held behind bars through no fault of their own. Education can raise awareness and make a difference.

Aerial view of Illinois State Training School, Geneva, Illinois 1974

I don’t remember my response to Mike but I’ve never been able to answer those questions to my own satisfaction. Did I unfairly impose my values on him? Did I use my influence and power in my role to create an unrealistic expectation that would only lead to disappointment and self-loathing? Did I make his life harder to live? As professionals in the ‘helping’ careers, where do we draw the line when we have influence and power over others? Do we use a Christian ethos as an excuse to convince ourselves that we must ‘save’ others that are less fortunate? After 40 years, I still can’t find an answer that I’m certain is totally, morally true for me.

Mike was eventually paroled to the YMCA in Aurora Illinois where he continued to attend junior college. Because of the temptations and pressure of friends in his old neighborhood, he agreed not to be paroled to Chicago. The realization that Chicago wasn’t a good option came after Mike visited his family on furlough. He’d smoked pot and excitedly told me on his return, “My fence was so glad to see me!”. The parole to Aurora didn’t last.

A new reader to this site has taken some pictures of the cemetery in Fox Run, Geneva Illinois. Except for this cemetery, there is no visual evidence that Illinois Youth Center at Geneva ever existed in Geneva or that hundreds of children, young men and women spent years behind bars at the facility.

Mike said when he was first locked up at 13 he was sent to the Reception Center at Joliet. There he was sexually assaulted by a guard that made Mike preform oral sex on him. This abuse he kept totally to himself, trusting no one as the horror replayed in a continuous loop in his mind for eight years. Mike was locked up at that young age to be ‘rehabilitated’ for being ungovernable (truancy) and deceptive practices. The judge probably thought his would help him ‘straighten out’. His mother must felt relief that her son would get the help he needed to settle down and attend school. Everyone’s trust was betrayed but not so much as Mike’s. His world was forever haunted by the horrors of this pedophile’s abuse.

I recently read Blood Done Sign My Name by Timothy Tyson. It helped me to make sense of an incident that happened at Geneva in the 70s – one that has haunted me since. A man that worked on Wallace Cottage sometimes made bad decisions. I’m going to call him Mr Jay. He played a [...]

Hope everyone is having a happy, loving Christmas with family and friends. I know for a lot of you, it hasn’t alway been that way. Many of you have told me how well your lives have turned out in spite of the abuse and the horror you experienced as children. I think the most rewarding [...]

I got an email from a college friend, Michele, that read the post “Haunting Memory Finally Makes Sense”. She said, “You mention now, that you are older and wiser, you understand and are sorry, but would you have changed anything in the way you handled the situation? You couldn’t change your color, but would you [...]

In July, the Geneva History Center will host an exhibition titled Who Was Sadie Cooksey?. This is a traveling photo exhibition developed by Maine photographer, Maggie Foskett. With the genesis in 1979 when Ms Foskett took pictures of the cemetery at Geneva Training School, the exhibition focuses on a single individual whose tombstone caught the [...]

The following information and photograph was kindly provided by the Geneva History Center. “Beginning July 23, 2011, the Geneva History Center museum will host Who Was Sadie Cooksey?, a photographic traveling exhibition developed by Maine photographer Maggie Foskett. The genesis of this exhibition reaches back to 1979, when Foskett stumbled onto an isolated cemetery on [...]

This is how I remember Illinois State Training School for Girls, Geneva, Illinois. I used to park my car in the lot just opposite the guard station then walk through the middle of the grounds to Geneva Cottage or to Oak and Wallace Cottage on the right (just out of the picture). The cemetery is [...]

Imagine living in this much space. A tiny cell. Other areas of your ‘home’ are shared with at least 20 other people. There is no where to ‘get away’ except to your room and you can’t necessarily escape to your own space without permission. Prior to the early ’70, all activities were strictly controlled and [...]

Savage. His name was on my mind when I woke up this morning. Savage was the nick name of a young Puerto Rican man on Wallace Cottage. He was a born leader. He had poise and an air of authority that the other young men respected and looked to for direction. It eked out of [...]