Knowing Carole Bailey by Hunter Cates

Any woman who finds herself in the unenviable position of being incarcerated at the Eddie Warrior Correctional Facility would do well to get to know Carole Bailey.

Nestled (some would say hidden) away in the outer reaches of the perpetually obscure town of Taft, Warrior seems to exist in a state of perpetual autumn, surrounded by decay, with only the prospect of cold winter ahead.

It’s not the nicest of places, but Carole takes it all in stride.

This is her second time here, her first sentence ending in 2003. She didn’t take things too seriously back then.

“I was just trying to get through my time,” she says. It’s that kind of mindset, she says, that brought her right back in 2007.

Aged 50, Carole was born in Baltimore, Maryland, and grew up in a musically inclined family. Her three sisters and one brother would perform songs their father had written, creating what she calls a “Jackson 5 kind of thing.” But it was never where the athletically inclined Carole’s passions lied, who preferred running track and cheerleading.

Not unlike the musical families the Bailey’s sought to imitate, Carole’s childhood was filled with sadness. Her father was abusive and she was molested at 10 by a man she respected and whose child she babysat. She didn’t tell her father, she says, because she knew he would kill the man and wind up in prison. Instead she just moved on.

Carole became pregnant with her first child in the 8th grade. Having that responsibility, she went to work for CSX Track Company as a typist after graduating from Mergenthaler Vocational school.

Not so much occupying as drifting through her native Baltimore, Carole left for Tulsa, following after her second child’s father. It was in her adopted state that her brushes with the law began.

While pregnant with her daughter Carole began shoplifting, partly because of homesickness, and partly because she “wanted Dillards stuff without (having) Dillards money.”

She soon began stealing for drug money and started dealing. She was sentenced in 1997 for Possession of Cocaine with Intent. Sentenced to Eddie Warrior for six years, she spent all of her free time drawing, becoming quite talented in the process.

After earning her freedom, Carole sought to rebuild her life. But when she found out her mother had suffered a stroke, she knew she needed to go home. Absent the funds to do so, she did what she knew best. Though this time she only dealt and didn’t partake in drugs, she was caught four weeks into it and was sentenced to 10 years in 2007.

Carole sees her second incarceration as a “blessing” because she recognizes her opportunity to better herself. She credits the various faith-based organizations, specifically the class “Shelter from the Storm” and Joyce Myers’ “Battlefield of the Mind,” with aiding her in the process.

Originally religious “only in my heart,” Carole will now leave out textbooks on her bed, hoping someone will ask while passing by and she can help them. Her philosophy now is equal parts practical and ambitious: “I want to get out of this what will get me out of here.” Good advice from a good person to know.

Hunter Cates is a sophomore majoring in film studies at TU.