For a prisoner serving a life sentence, time is both an abstract concept and a stark reality. Limited access to educational opportunities within the U.S. prison system presents significant barriers to rehabilitation and reentry into society, despite evidence suggesting education reduces recidivism.
The Weight of Time Behind Bars
Some define time as linear, others as a block. Still others see it as something spent, in the present, or the future. But for those incarcerated, time is both abstract and defined. “When you have so much time, it is all you have, yet, inside, you have almost no control over how to spend it,” one prisoner noted.
Arrested in 2002 while a 25-year-old entrepreneur and college student, the author faced a choice: succumb to despair or pursue education while fighting for his innocence. Inspired by his father’s dream of providing access to higher education, he resolved to continue his studies within the confines of New Jersey State Prison (NJSP).
Limited Educational Opportunities
Prison life presents obstacles to constructive activities like education. The NJSP’s education department offers only GED-level courses. Prisoners can also enroll in outside correspondence courses, often costing between $750 and $1,000. Many for-profit “correspondence schools” advertise mail-order college degrees, but most are unaccredited.
The author initially pursued a prison paralegal training course taught by fellow inmates. He then sought admission to accredited university programs, sending dozens of letters without response. An attempt to enroll in the NJ-STEP program, offering college courses at East Jersey State Prison, was denied, with a security major stating, “You guys aren’t going anywhere.”
A System That Stores Bodies, Not Minds
Thomas Koskovich, who has spent nearly three decades in NJSP serving a life sentence, described the limited opportunities. “The only thing they let us do is something called independent study, and by the way, you pay for everything yourself. The prison doesn’t help you. They just proctor [meaning they provide someone to administer] the tests.”
Koskovich works as a teacher’s aide in the Donald Bourne School, assisting students earning their GEDs, knowing there is no path to further higher education. Students receive $70 a month to attend, and some deliberately fail to remain in the program longer. The school graduates only five to 10 students annually.
Kashif Hassan, imprisoned for 15 years, has earned multiple degrees, including two PhDs, through university distance education, funded by his family. He noted the NJSP cancelled the college correspondence roster, limiting access to resources, citing security concerns.
A Glimmer of Progress
In 2023, Thomas Edison State University (TESU) launched a program enabling men in NJSP to pursue accredited college degrees. The author began taking TESU courses in 2024 for a liberal arts degree, funded by grants and scholarships.
Another student, Michael Doce, is earning a communications degree after studying engineering at Rutgers University before his imprisonment. However, the prison recently banned used textbooks, potentially hindering his ability to continue due to cost.
Al Jazeera requested clarification from the New Jersey Department of Corrections regarding the cancellation of the roster and the banning of used books, but did not receive a response.
The Power of Education
The author reflects on a couplet by Mir Taqi Mir, expressing the internal struggle between despair and determination. He concludes that education is not charity, but resistance, a means of maintaining humanity and freedom even behind bars.
According to the Prison Policy Initiative, limited access to education in prisons remains a major barrier to rehabilitation and reentry. A RAND meta-analysis found a 43 percent lower likelihood of reoffending among inmates who pursued studies.
Because in the end, freedom does not begin with release. It begins with the decision to grow. It begins with the mind.
And in this place, where time is both enemy and companion, every page turned, every lesson learned, is a way to quiet the endless ticking, a way to remind ourselves that even behind bars, time can still belong to us.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
This is the final story in a three-part series on how prisoners are taking on the US justice system through law, prison hustles and hard-won education.
Read more from the series:
How I’m fighting the US prison system from the inside
Tailors and corner stores: The hustles helping prisoners survive
Tariq MaQbool is a prisoner at New Jersey State Prison (NJSP), where he has been held since 2005. He is a contributor to various publications, including Al Jazeera English, where he has written about the trauma of solitary confinement (he has spent a total of more than two years in isolation) and what it means to be a Muslim prisoner inside a US prison.
Martin Robles is also a prisoner at NJSP. These illustrations were made using lead and coloured pencils. As he has limited art supplies, Robles used folded squares of toilet paper to blend the pigments into different shades and colours.
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