I remember, it was really terrible, we had severely regimented time schedules controlled by clocks and bell. We had to go there with hours-long bus rides. I remember watching the clock, watching every second tick while one person was talking to everyone about really profoundly boring things which they could not and would not articulate the relevance of beyond an immediate examination and far of idea of "the labout marketplace" in which we would all compete against one another to avoid homelessness and death. I could read on the computer at home about the things they were saying, it was obvious at the time this information would have no practical use whatsoever to anyone but I could not imagine an alternative so I kept going until they gave me some papers after 13 years of this. Of course now I understand why, we were doing appearance of productivity, as training for our future as obedient workers who would do what they were told. The subject of the matter was not the point, it was being moulded into docility. This is why there was no clarity as to what use the information lectured about would have. It only needed to appear to be productive and useful, it did not have to be relevant or interesting as we were a captive audience, fearful of this homelessness situation we would find ourselves in if we disobeyed. This was the social stalemate that kept us from being sent to the mines IMMEDIATELY, we were supposed to be grateful and happy that we didn't have to work in the field, picking rocks and vegetables in the field with the undocumented immigrants.

We were a captive audience, this is why it didn't have to be interesting, that was not the point, the teacher tried really hard, I could see it hurt them to be our jailors, they tried to make it fun, but we knew we were in prison even if we couldn't articulate it. The teaching prison guards had their empathy eventually dried out and shrivel, they tried spending their own money to make it tolerable for us and they were met with disinterested ungratefulness, no recognition from us nor the bosses. The cheerful colourful decorations of our jail cells somehow made things worse, like something was wrong with US for being unhappy with the situation.