Dreamwork With Prisoners is an initiative to support healing and transformation for inmates of jails and prisons, both male & female. Currently, there are four inmates sharing their dreams regularly. When the trauma they’ve experienced through their arrest & incarceration is processed as well as going back to early childhood trauma, then they are much more free to move towards the goals they seek. Here is a dream which was recently shared. Names are changed for anonymity.

It’s about me when I first got here. I was in the infirmary, a segregated cell, with a glass door. They bring the phone right to you. I’m on a phone in the cell, on the phone with my girl. She’s crying and I’m wondering what’s going on. She told me she was pulled over by the [local] police on the way to drop the kids off at daycare. As she pulled up about three blocks away a cruiser pulls her over. She gets her ID ready, goes to hand him the driver’s license. He says, “that won’t be necessary Linda.” Okay, this dream is her telling me all this. Then the cop looks in the back at our daughter and says, “Oh , this must be  Adam [the prisoner’s] precious little girl.” She wonders how he knows and she asks. He tells her he knows their whole routine. They know everything about her and the family. The cop says for her to tell Adam [the prisoner] that he doesn’t remember what happened the day of the shooting. Then as she tells this to me in the dream she’s crying and bawling saying this cop threatened to kill me and the kids and our bodies would never be found if you reported what really happened. She’s crying. I’m telling her everything will be alright, that I’ll tell them I don’t remember what happened. Then we get off the phone and after that a correction officer comes to the door and says I have an visit. Then I find out it’s a professional visit meaning it’s not the regular public. It’s someone professional. When I walk in I see the cop that shot me was sitting in the room wanting to talk to me. He says he’ll get right to the point: Did you speak to Linda did you get our message? I say, “Yes, I’ll say whatever you want me to say just don’t hurt my family.” He says, “You’re not playing with a bunch of street gang kids anymore.” He gets mad and slams his hands on the table and then I wake up.