Few of us ever get the experience of spending a night in jail. Far fewer of us ever write about it, or what it feels like in such a public way that anybody can read it on the Internet. While I don't want to revisit this experience anytime soon, I believe it is good for all to read and think about what it's like.

It was a cold icy February night, riding in a police car past the state museum, then past the state museum to the Albany PD South Station in the South End. I was told this was a formality, and that once I was booked I would be released. I did not know I would be spending the night in jail.

I was in handcuffs, and throughly demoralized. I had been interrogated for what seemed for hours, after being driven around the city for a long time by the police. I did not know what to expect, I just wanted to go back to my home in the country. But it turns out it won't be like that.

I was shackled to the wall. I remember lots of police officers swarming around, and I sign saying that "no firearms past this point" in the hallway leading to the Albany lockup. There was bright florescent light in this dark building in the south end, and lots of people swarming around. They told me I had to remove my belt and my shoe laces from my sneakers. I also had to take off my undershirt, sweater, wallet, and watch.

They were very polite to me as they lead me to the holding cell. They promised me that soon I would be out. There was maybe 12 holding cells in the Albany city lockup, with six of them full with people. These people were not the kind of people you would meet in polite company, these were the drug dealers and scum of the south end.

The cell smelled of urine and was fairly dirty. There was no light in the cell, just a single set of florescent lights along the wall. There was a small camera in the cell, along with a push button collect phone. I did not know how to make a pay phone call, so I could not call my parents. Yet, they had followed me down to the police station, and would get me out as soon as they could.

Next door in another cell was a clearly schizophrenic man begging for his medication. He wanted his medicine, but the warden did not give it to him. The man in the other cell next to me asked me what I was in for. He didn't speak very good English, and I was at first unsure what to say, so I was quiet. He persisted. I explained it was for e-mail harassment of a professor. I explained I was very worried, as the charges were serious. He said things would work out, and to just give it time.

I closed my eyes not knowing what was going to happen next. My hands were folded and I prayed. I knew I would be learning a lot about myself in the next upcoming months, and I knew things would never be the same. And indeed, much of what would happen over the next year and a half would define who I would become as an individual.