Straight talk straight up

Freedom is hard work, V.J. Smith was telling the eight jump-suited inmates seated before him in a Hennepin County jail classroom.

But freedom also has its rewards. Like being able to wear a color other than orange.

"You want to keep coming here and wearing these orange suits and all that? You can choose to do that," said Smith, his own linebacker-size physique draped in a black suit and shirt set off by a gold cross around his neck.

"But if you decide you want to be great and wear a real suit -- pick the color you want, you know -- you can do that.

"But," he said, looking at the uneasy faces staring back at him, "you've got to make the decision."

Heads nodded. The listeners had probably heard the same message at other times in their young lives, but chances were it made more sense to them now. Partly because they were now behind bars, and partly because they knew that Smith and the ex-con alongside him, John Turnipseed, once were in their position.

Every other week, Smith and Turnipseed talk to a few dozen Hennepin County inmates as representatives of MAD DADS, a national organization of adult men that uses personal contact, encouragement and example to turn around the lives of young people headed in the wrong direction.

Smith, 54, a minister and Minneapolis police chaplain, started the local chapter of MAD DADS 11 years ago after surviving an upbringing of foster homes and street life that left him angry and often running from the police.

Turnipseed, 55, directs the family center at Urban Ventures, a south Minneapolis faith-based organization. By the age of 40, he said, he was a felon 10 times over, a crack addict and a regular in Minnesota's juvenile institutions and prisons. Now he is a homeowner, teacher and writer who speaks around the country about his experiences.

"I ain't better than no one in here, I really ain't ... but I just quit," Turnipseed said, his street talk contrasting sharply with his conservative business suit. "And it took some strength, and it took some people that I surrounded myself with."

'Enough is enough'

MAD DADS -- which stands for Men Against Destruction Defending Against Drugs and Social-disorder -- came to the county jail six months ago at the invitation of Hennepin County Sheriff Rich Stanek.

He had met Smith several years ago when Stanek was a Minneapolis police commander in charge of criminal investigations, and he thought the program could help inmates.

"V.J. has a calming effect," Stanek said. "He's a big guy, a gentle guy. He helps bring a little order to the chaos. And he can talk like no one else."

No contract was drawn up, no money changed hands. Smith simply agreed to come in twice a month and meet with interested inmates, whose jail time can range from a few hours to several months -- the average is seven days.

Aside from a closing prayer, there is no overt appeal to religious sensibilities. Instead, the Gospel According to V.J. lays out a path to self-improvement based on building a positive attitude and common sense.

At a recent session, the lesson was a V.J. favorite: "Changing Bitterness into Betterness":

"It's gonna take a lot of patience," he said, "but it has to be done if you're gonna move forward. What's it gonna take for you to get better?"

The Lord, one inmate said. Thinking before acting, said another. Stop blaming others for my mistakes, someone else added.

One young man said that his family members had to change their attitudes. Smith countered gently: Maybe you're the one who needs to change.

Afterward, Mark Fleischman said that he attends Smith's talks because they help counteract the essentially negative environment of the jail. Fleischman, 40, said he has been awaiting adjudication of his first-degree criminal sexual conduct charge for several months.

"If my trial goes the wrong way, I end up going to prison," said Fleischman, who has a technical school background and works in commercial construction. "When I get out of prison, there's no place to go. ... You're going to be the poster guy on the telephone pole, because they don't want you in their neighborhood. But you can go to these people for help."

Antone Buckingham, charged with financial card fraud, will go to court soon. This is the second time he has been in jail. He doesn't plan to come back, he said.

"I'm at a point in my life where enough is enough," said Buckingham, who has worked as a chef and has a culinary arts degree.

"I'm tired. I'm 35 years old. I'm ready for a change. And coming here today, seeing John and V.J. again, a light bulb went off in my head. I'm ready."

It won't be easy, Smith told the inmates. Don't listen to them cats on the block, taking you down. They're all about getting what they need, and their needs have nothing to do with your freedom, OK?

"Success is hard. Life is hard. To be free is hard," he said. "If you want all those things, then you got to be hard and determined in what you do. You can't say, sometimes it's hard, and then do it and go to jail. You gotta say, sometimes it's hard, but every time, I win."

Kevin Duchschere • 612-673-4455