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Prison education programs are primed to take off in Mississippi. Here’s what one class looks like.

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CORINTH — In the back of the Alcorn County Correctional Facility, a regional prison in the top-right corner of Mississippi, is an ice-cold trailer.

It’s new. And it’s where Bill Stone — a retired Northeast Mississippi Community College instructor who, for the past three years, has taught a public speaking class at this prison — was headed early Wednesday afternoon.

To get there, he must go through a pat-down. A guard inspects his materials — folders, notebooks and seven copies of the textbook “Practically Speaking.” Then Stone must walk through the prison’s long, loud hallway, past his old classroom; past the canteen, the case managers’ offices and the guard; and past the living pods. Some of his students come to the glass or they shout hello, adding to the din. Finally, after a few steps on a sidewalk walled-off with a chain-link fence, Stone is inside the trailer.

Sometimes, Stone thinks it’s not unlike walking the halls of a high school.

On Wednesday, he had Michelle Baragona, NEMCC’s vice president of instruction, in tow. She’d driven 20 minutes from NEMCC’s main campus in Booneville. Since fall 2017, she has overseen NEMCC’s prison education programs, which are part of a growing movement in Mississippi and across the country. Boosted in part by research that has shown that prison education reduces recidivism, more colleges and universities are offering classes in prison. 

Now, as the federal government is preparing to make federal financial aid once again available to incarcerated people starting July 1, these programs are primed to explode in partnership with the Mississippi Department of Corrections. Key stakeholders are on board: In interviews, Burl Cain, the MDOC commissioner, has correctly linked the availability of jobs for formerly incarcerated people, which prison education can help them get, to reduced recidivism.

In the quiet, air-conditioned trailer, Stone was hoping his students could, just for an hour, find some reprieve from prison. Or at least, from their often sweltering hot living pods, which on Wednesday were burning up in the 84-degree heat. All 295 students at this facility can take classes, as long as they have a GED. 

“This is much better than the old room,” Stone said. “By a long, long shot.”

He started arranging the desks into three rows.

Around 12:20 p.m., guards brought the students from each living zone until all the desks were filled. They waited quietly for class to start. Some were antsy, tapping their feet or twirling their pencils. One student from the work zone was running behind.

Five minutes later, class started. Stone introduced the assignment. Each student was to talk about three things that interested them. If they talked for more than one minute, they’d get an A.

“At the end, we all clap for them,” he told the class. “Even if they pass out.”

Stone was confident they wouldn’t, but in his 28 years of teaching public speaking, it had happened to two students — it’s always a possibility. So he’d tapped one student to start them off.

“Terrence, I asked you to go first,” Stone said. “Are you ready?” 

“Ready as I’m gonna be,” he replied. 

Carlos White, left, watches as a fellow student gives his speech. Credit: Eric Shelton/Mississippi Today

There used to be hundreds of college classes just like Stone’s in prisons across the country. Up until the mid-1990s, these programs were considered a key part of doing time — an “opportunity for ‘reformation,’” according to Higher Education in Prison Research. But in 1994, the Crime Bill took away the primary source of funding, which was the Pell Grant, a federal financial aid program for low-income students, by barring incarcerated people from receiving it. 

The classes all but disappeared. Now, they’re making a comeback. In Mississippi, colleges and universities across the state are working with MDOC, sheriffs and wardens to set up what are, for many prisons, the first accredited college classes that have been offered in decades. NEMCC had been supporting its programs with private funding, but the Pell Grant will be a game-changer.

This will benefit the whole community, Baragona said. Not only does prison education reduce crime, she said, but families of incarcerated people often move to Alcorn County. They want their loved ones to be able to support the family when they get out.

“We’re not teaching the people who are in there for life,” Baragona said. “These are people who are fixin’ to rejoin society.” 

Since 2017, 77 students have taken NEMCC classes at Alcorn County Correctional. The participation rates reflect the institutions’ demographics, Baragona said. Black students made up 57% of participants, and 43% were white — a ratio that was mirrored in Stone’s class, where 7 students were Black and 4 were white.

More than half have taken three or more classes. Two students have taken five classes.

“I don’t want anybody thinking that this is a patsy,” Stone said. “I want these students to write as well, to speak as well as any Northeast student who has come through my traditional classes.”

He poised his finger over the iPad timer as Terrence Glover stepped up to the podium.

“Hello Terrence,” the students said in unison.

Glover talked about how he hates foreign languages (difficult to learn) and loves fishing. Then, 138 seconds later, his speech was over. It was time for the next student. Stone asked for a volunteer. No one moved.

“Anybody that just wants to get it over with right now?” Stone asked.

Carlos White rocked out of his chair. Though he had seemed shy at his desk, he was at ease at the podium. The first thing he was interested in, White said, was TikTok, because it offered access to “a multitude of people from a single device” — that is, to the outside world. He also liked cooking, because it reminded him of his grandmother’s collard greens. His final interest was mentoring. That’s what he wants to do when he gets out.

“So much of the youth go down the wrong road like I did,” he said.

White spoke for 139 seconds, Stone noted. A new record.

The students seemed less anxious and more comfortable sharing. For many, the topic of prison was unavoidable. Another, Vincent Breazeale, talked about the value of education, working and family — three interests, he said, that would “probably be different outside these walls.”

What everyone was really talking about were their dreams, and what they hoped to do when they finally left. One said he’d like to get a dog. Another couldn’t wait to work on cars again. A third student said wanted to start a business manufacturing cologne.

One of the last students to go, Antonio Harris, said that after 19 years of incarceration, he was looking forward to being an entrepreneur when he’s finally released (he’ll become eligible next year).

“I want to be able to work and still kind of like, enjoy life at the same time,” Harris said. “It generates great revenue also.”

By the end, the temperature in the class felt warmer. Stone congratulated the students. This was the first class he’s ever had, he said, where every student talked for more than a minute. He wanted to know how it felt.

“Like riding a bike,” Glover said.

A student named Bruce Parker passed out root-beer-float-flavored candies. He’d used $1.16 of his $20-a-week allowance to pay for a bag. 

After a lecture from Stone, it was time for the students to talk to the “navigator.” That is Tina Wilburn. It’s her third day. She’s NEMCC’s eyes and ears in the prison, and it’s her job to advocate for the students. Gripping a prison-issued walkie talkie and a notebook, she wanted to know how they were going to do their homework. 

“Are you able to study in the pod where you’re at?” she asked. She’d heard the library was too small.

All the students shook their heads. Dozens of incarcerated people live in each pod and sleep bunk-to-bunk. There’s a lot of distractions. 

NEMCC has offered college prison classes at ACCF since fall 2017. Credit: Eric Shelton/Mississippi Today

“It’s extremely difficult,” White said.

Despite everyone’s excitement that day, these students are up against tough odds. They’re unlikely to finish. Last semester, 10 students enrolled, and only two graduated. According to data from NEMCC, the completion rates were higher before COVID, when more career-readiness classes were offered.

Some of the reasons for this have to do with the very nature of prisons, said Ruth Delaney, a program director at the Vera Institute of Justice, a national organization that has been helping prisons set up college classes. For instance, it’s common for incarcerated people to be suddenly transferred for reasons that supersede the class, like a sentencing order that prohibits them from staying in the same prison as a co-defendant.

“A prison is a total institution,” Delaney said. “The minute you cross that threshold, all of your relationships start to feel different.”

If a fight broke out in a students’ living pod, they could be transferred, even if they weren’t participating, she added. That’s more likely to happen during the summer months, when violence in prison rises with the temperature outside.  And while some research has shown prisons that have classes become safer over time, the students at Alcorn County Correctional said they had yet to see that happen. 

But other reasons can be managed. A huge issue Stone has noticed is dental hygiene. When his incarcerated students’ have cavities, they’re sent to the Mississippi State Prison in Parchman to get teeth pulled. For weeks after, their mouths are too swollen for them to talk in class.

Then there are some students who get demoralized if they do poorly, even on a quiz that doesn’t matter for their final grade.

“It’ll just knock them for a loop, and I’m not used to that,” Stone said. “That’s a definite prison-type thing. A regular college student would go, ‘well, crap.’ They’d just keep on going. For a prison student to make a 40 or a 50, their whole self esteem is locked up in that.”

What makes the difference, Stone added, is support.

All of the students told Wilburn they would be able to finish their homework. Some of them offered tips: The best time to study is around 3 a.m. That’s when the prison is quietest.

The door to the trailer opened. It was a guard. He walked into the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. Everybody turned to look at him.

“I believe they said class is over now,” he said.

So it was. 

A student goes back into the prison after class. Credit: Eric Shelton/Mississippi Today

NEMCC has big dreams for the program. Baragona wants to offer more career-technical programs — classes that are more likely to directly lead to jobs when students are no longer incarcerated. But she’s worried about the logistics of bringing equipment into the prison. 

Another issue is giving students computers, which is crucial for learning how to do research. This isn’t possible because they’re not allowed free use of the internet. Stone makes up for that by bringing print-outs of research to class.

Baragona also wants there to be more instructors. Right now, Stone is one of two. Even though society is slowly leaving the tough-on-crime era behind, she still has to “sweet talk” instructors into participating in the program. She was able to convince Stone because, in the early 1980s, he used to minister to a congregant in prison.

And Baragona still hasn’t figured out an efficient way of providing accommodations for students who have disabilities like dyslexia. When the Pell Grant becomes available, she’ll need to set up a system for them to talk to NEMCC’s financial aid office. She’s hoping Wilburn can help with that.

Before class, Baragona asked Stone to tell her if he needed more equipment. A white board would be nice, he mused. Then he thought of something even better.

“A bigger TV would be glorious,” he said. “If someone had an extra 69-inch TV that would be just glorious.”

But right now, the new trailer is enough.

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

Mississippi Today

Ghost town of Orwood residents provide lessons for today by working with scientists in 1800s to combat yellow fever

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mississippitoday.org – @BobbyHarrison9 – 2025-05-02 09:36:00

Editor’s note: This essay is part of Mississippi Today Ideas, a platform for thoughtful Mississippians to share fact-based ideas about our state’s past, present and future. You can read more about the section here.


Given recent policy changes threatening the future of medical research and news of Mississippi’s falling childhood vaccination rates, I fear we are ignoring lessons learned the hard way. 

One of those lessons occurred during a yellow fever outbreak in the summer of 1898 when a community of honest citizens in Orwood, then a hamlet in southwest Lafayette County, helped a team of physicians change the direction of public health for Mississippi and the rest of the country.

I first heard about their story listening to a documentary about yellow fever with my husband, a virologist, who teaches at the University of Mississippi. The video mentioned an unnamed doctor in Mississippi who had advanced a theory linking mosquitoes and yellow fever.

The story I uncovered models the honesty and trust in medical science we need today to keep our families and communities healthy. 

***

Yellow fever was a problem in the South throughout the 1800s. Its initial symptoms — fever, body aches and severe headache — were followed by jaundice and in some cases internal bleeding leading to death. The jaundice left the skin tinged with yellow, thus the name “yellow fever.”  

Shirley Gray

In early August 1898, a young woman named Sallie Wilson Gray (no relation to the author) developed chills and a fever while visiting at her uncle’s home in Taylor. Her uncle immediately sent her home to be cared for by her family in Orwood, about 10 miles away.  

Days later, Sallie’s uncle in Taylor died from what proved to be yellow fever. Family members wiped black vomit, a sign of internal bleeding, from his body as he lay in his coffin. 

Sallie had now brought the same illness home to Orwood. 

***

I learned about yellow fever in seventh grade when we studied the 1878 yellow fever epidemic, the worst to strike the Mississippi River Valley. That year, Mississippi reported almost 17,000 cases and more than 4,000 deaths. I didn’t realize, though, how yellow fever continued to appear year after year. 

Physicians had a basic understanding of bacteria after the Civil War, but they didn’t recognize viruses, which proved to be the cause of yellow fever, until later in the 1900s. One popular theory suggested yellow fever spread on fomites—inanimate surfaces—like bedding, clothing and furniture. Panic often followed news of a yellow fever outbreak. Health officials established quarantines, closed roads, river ports and train stations, hoping to curb the spread of infections. 

The fear of what was not known then about yellow fever reminded me of the early days of the COVID pandemic when fear spread through rumors and unconfirmed anecdotes on social media. 

***

Sallie’s sisters and brothers in Orwood soon developed the same symptoms as Sallie. By September, 30-plus people in Taylor and Orwood showed signs of the disease and new cases were reported outside the local area. In response, three interstate railroads shut down and Memphis halted train traffic coming into the city. In Starkville, the president of Mississippi A&M (now Mississippi State University) posted a column of guards along its roads. In mid-October, officials placed all of Mississippi under quarantine as thousands fled the state. 

Months earlier, the governor of Mississippi, recognizing the heavy toll yellow fever often brought to his state, had sent a team of Board of Health physicians to Cuba, the center for yellow fever research. There the group met with Dr. Walter Reed, the Army physician directing the American research interests on the island. Reed pursued a theory that mosquitos transmitted the disease, but his experiments to establish that link repeatedly failed. The Mississippi team, including Dr. Henry Gant, a Water Valley doctor, returned home, still hopeful that science could soon solve the yellow fever mystery.

Gant immediately responded when he learned about the outbreak in Taylor. So did Dr. Henry Rose Carter, a field epidemiologist who served as the quarantine officer at Ship Island and who investigated yellow fever outbreaks throughout the South. 

Committed to the same rigorous scientific process that epidemiologists use today, Carter looked for patterns in how diseases spread within clusters of people. With yellow fever, he needed to identify the first person to develop the disease in a specific area and then trace everybody and everything that the person came into contact with.  

Over and over again, unreliable sources or conflicting pieces of data prevented Carter from finding a pattern. People, suspicious of government intervention and scared of the consequences of yellow fever, often distorted the truth. 

Fortunately for us today, the people of Orwood proved to be different. The people, Carter wrote, were “honest enough to tell the truth” and cooperated with efforts to trace the infection of each case.

Working with Carter, Gant moved from house to house in Orwood, instructing families to quarantine at home, though their natural inclination was to care for their neighbors. He also questioned each person, recording data for Gant’s analysis. 

Unlike diseases that produce low-grade fevers, an abrupt and high fever often characterizes a case of yellow fever. For that reason, many of the people Gant interviewed reported the day their infections started and also the time their fevers ignited: Mr. G. W. McMillan, sickened on Aug. 29 at noon.  Mrs. Rogers, Sept. 4, 10:00 am. 

Collecting this detailed information about time proved essential for Carter’s study and he cheered Gant’s ability to gather such reliable data. “A greater tribute to the good faith of the community, or to its confidence in Dr. Gant, can scarcely be given,” he wrote. 

Studying the Orwood data, Carter recognized a consistent time interval between cases, about two weeks between the first case and the development of secondary cases. This meant that the infection did not immediately spread from person-to-person but required time to incubate. He called this the period of extrinsic incubation.

I’ve read Carter’s scientific report with the results of the Orwood study, the same report that persuaded Walter Reed to alter his experimental process. Waiting 10-14 days before introducing infected mosquitos to healthy volunteers, Reed successfully demonstrated the transmission of yellow fever from mosquito to human. 

With the development of mosquito control procedures, the fever soon vanished in the U.S. and Caribbean. Today a vaccine can protect those travelling or living where the disease remains a threat.

***

Sallie and her siblings were among the lucky, surviving their infections with only lingering weakness and fatigue. When frosts fell in north Mississippi in early November 1898, the number of fever cases quickly fell. In total, officials confirmed 2,478 cases across the state. Those who died totaled 114.

Reed later acknowledged that the “work in Mississippi did more to impress me with the importance of an intermediate host in yellow fever than everything else put together.”  

***

My husband and I drove from our home in Oxford to Taylor and then Orwood on a hot muggy day in August, probably experiencing the same weather conditions as Sallie. Orwood is a ghost town today, but we found the cemetery where Sallie’s uncle is buried, adjacent to the wood-planked Presbyterian Church that still stands. 

Walking those grounds emphasized for me what the neighbors who once lived in Orwood taught us. Honesty and rigorous scientific inquiry — and not political rhetoric or unproven claims — are the tools we must trust to combat disease and dispel fear.


Bio: Shirley Wimbish Gray lives in Oxford. A retired writing instructor and science editor, she writes about what is often overlooked or forgotten, particularly in the American South. Her recent essays have appeared in Earth Island, Brevity Blog and Persimmon Tree. 

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The post Ghost town of Orwood residents provide lessons for today by working with scientists in 1800s to combat yellow fever appeared first on mississippitoday.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Centrist

This article does not present a clear ideological stance but rather focuses on a historical account of a yellow fever outbreak in 1898 and its connection to scientific advancements. The content emphasizes the importance of honesty, scientific inquiry, and collaboration, contrasting it with political rhetoric and unproven claims. The mention of contemporary issues, like Mississippi’s falling childhood vaccination rates and recent policy changes affecting medical research, introduces a subtle critique of current trends in public health. However, the tone remains balanced, and the piece refrains from offering a partisan viewpoint, focusing instead on lessons learned from history and the value of scientific rigor. The discussion of current events is presented more as a concern for public health rather than a partisan critique.

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Mississippi Today

On this day in 1964, Klan killed Henry Dee and Charles Moore

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mississippitoday.org – @MSTODAYnews – 2025-05-02 07:00:00

May 2, 1964

Thomas Moore is holding a 1964 photograph of him and his younger brother, Charles, shortly before his brother was kidnapped and killed by Klansmen, along with Henry Hezekiah Dee.

Henry Hezekiah Dee and Charles Eddie Moore, two 19-year-old Black Americans, were simply trying to get a ride back home. Instead, Klansmen abducted them, took them to the Homochitto National Forest, where they beat the pair and then drowned them in the Mississippi River. 

When their bodies were found in an old part of the river, FBI agents initially thought they had found the bodies of three missing civil rights workers, James Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner. 

Thanks to the work of Moore’s brother, Thomas, and Canadian filmmaker David Ridgen, federal authorities reopened the case in 2005. Two years later, a federal jury convicted James Ford Seale. He received three life sentences and died in prison. 

Ridgen did a podcast on the case for the CBC series, “Somebody Knows Something.”

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The post On this day in 1964, Klan killed Henry Dee and Charles Moore appeared first on mississippitoday.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Centrist

This article presents historical facts about the 1964 kidnapping and murder of two Black Americans by Klansmen. It provides an account of the tragic event, recounting the abduction, the subsequent investigation, and the eventual conviction of one of the perpetrators. The article sticks to reporting the details of the case, including the efforts of Thomas Moore and filmmaker David Ridgen to reopen the case and bring justice. While the subject matter is deeply tied to civil rights, the tone of the article remains neutral, focusing on factual events without pushing a particular ideological stance. The language used is factual and matter-of-fact, presenting the events as they happened rather than offering opinion or judgment, making the content centrist in its approach.

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Mississippi Today

UMMC holds free cancer screenings

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mississippitoday.org – @EricJShelton – 2025-04-30 12:00:00

The University of Mississippi Medical Center’s Department of Otolaryngology-Head and Neck Surgery hosted a free oral, head, and neck cancer screening Wednesday at the Jackson Medical Mall as part of Oral, Head and Neck Cancer Awareness Week.

The event featured quick, noninvasive screenings aimed at catching cancer early — when treatment is most effective. Onyx Care provided free HPV vaccinations, while the ACT Center for Tobacco Treatment, Education, and Research offered resources on smoking cessation and free services.

“These screenings take about 10 minutes and can save lives,” said Dr. Gina Jefferson, head and neck surgical oncologist at UMMC. “The earlier a cancer is diagnosed, the better chance we have of curing it.”

Tobacco and alcohol use remain major risk factors for these cancers. However, physicians say an increasing number of cases are linked to HPV, especially among younger adults with no history of smoking or drinking. Dentists are often the first to spot early signs, which can include persistent sores, lumps in the neck, or difficulty swallowing.

Oral, head and neck cancers are among the most common globally. When found early, survival rates can exceed 80 percent.

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The post UMMC holds free cancer screenings appeared first on mississippitoday.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Centrist

This article presents factual information about a free cancer screening event without showing a clear ideological stance. It primarily focuses on the health benefits of early cancer detection and the availability of free resources, such as HPV vaccinations and smoking cessation support. The language used is neutral and the content is centered around public health education rather than promoting a political viewpoint. The inclusion of factual statistics, such as survival rates and risk factors, adds to its informative and objective tone. There are no signs of bias or advocacy for a particular political agenda, making this a centrist piece.

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