Sister Collette Character Interview by Ellen Barker, author of The Breaks

Ellen Barker’s illuminating third novel, The Breaks (February 18, She Writes Press), takes a look at the deep injustice of wrongful conviction and what “freedom” means after release from prison. All this is set against the story of Marianne, white and middle-aged and struggling with her own life challenges, including sort-of dating a Black cop.

Mixing humor with the tragedy, The Breaks is an enlightening and thought-provoking read that encourages reflection on a little-known segment of society, and even on privilege. 

Sister Collette (Marianne’s neighbor) Character Interview by Ellen Barker, author of The Breaks, out February 18, by She Writes Press.

The Breaks

Waking up in the emergency room with a broken arm was not one of the ways Marianne imagined her first date with Carl, if it is a date, ending up. Nor was driving up to the entrance of a women’s prison a few weeks later anywhere on her radar. But here she is. At least I’m on this side of the gate, she thinks. She picks up newly released Stephanie, as a favor to a nun she barely knows, returns to her East of Troost home, and finds herself immersed in a whole new drama.

It’s a contemporary story of two single women – one middle-aged and recovering from life’s setbacks; the other twenty-something and newly out of prison – coping with their very different realities while living in the same house.

Sister Collette is Marianne’s back-fence neighbor.

EB: First, tell us who you are. Is “Sister” an honorific, or are you an actual nun?

SC: Oh, I’m a professed sister – “nuns” are technically the ones that are cloistered, not out working in the community. Sisters of Charity is my order.

EB: Sounds like you are definitely out in the community. How did you get into the business of housing released convicts, if “housing” is the right way to describe what you do. 

SC: Housing is step one, but of course there’s a lot more to it once they are actually in the house. My route to doing this work was quite convoluted. I started out teaching – everyone in my order was a teacher back in the day. But as the order dwindled and we could no longer staff all the schools who wanted teachers, we made the decision to serve the Church and the community in whatever way was most needed and that best suited each sister’s talents. I pivoted to social work, usually working with young women, often girls really, who came up through foster care and ended up in the criminal justice system. And then one day I saw a video about Sister Terry Dodge, who was taking in women as they left prison and giving them a chance to breathe, to figure out who they were on the outside, and to experience “just living” as we call it.

EB: So, half-way houses.

SC: That’s the closest analogy, but not quite the same. The women in these houses have no set schedule or agenda, and they are not required to be there or to leave at a certain time. They are free to stay or go. Many women leaving prison don’t have a support system to return to, so they can’t thrive on the outside, and they end up homeless or back in prison. We give them a place to support each other and form bonds and start moving into what the rest of us think of as normal life.

EB: Okay, got it. I think. So how does Marianne fit into this?

SC: [laughing] Well, it’s her own fault. She knocked on my door, just wanting to introduce herself. She’d been wondering who lived in the house behind her. To her, it’s kind of a dicey neighborhood and she wanted the security of knowing that her nearest neighbors were okay.

EB: Wanting to know who had her back, so to speak.

SC: Meaning her back yard, yes.

EB: So she knocked on your door, and then what?

SC: It was so funny. I could see her processing it – me introducing myself as “Sister” and then talking about the women coming out of prison. She didn’t know whether to be impressed or scared to death.

EB: I guess you reassured her.

SC: Well, we found some common ground. And then not long after that, I got in a bind and I was staring out my back window trying think of a way out, and there she was, forty feet away, looking out her back window. Okay, I said, let’s see what happens.

EB: So you just walked out there and asked her to . . . 

SC: [laughing again] Yeah, to get in her car and drive ninety miles and pick up a total stranger at a women’s prison.

EB: And she actually said yes to that?

SC: Well, she had twelve years of Catholic school behind her. It’s kind of embedded in her psyche to do what the Sister asks.

EB: So you exploited that.

SC: Oh yeah.

EB: But then the young woman she picked up – Stephanie, is it? She ended up living with Marianne. 

SC: Yes, but that part I didn’t plan. That just happened. Kismet maybe, if you don’t like the idea of divine providence. Worked out pretty well, though, huh?

EB: Stephanie is pretty special.

SC: Sure, but every single woman I take in is special, and I’m not being precious here. They’ve seen things, done things, that give them each something: empathy, insight, whatever. It just takes time to find it. Time and paying attention.

EB: Still, Stephanie. . . .

SC: Okay, Stephanie. I didn’t really see her and Marianne as a fit at all. But why mess with destiny? Marianne had a broken arm, and Stephanie likes to be needed, which got her in trouble before but really worked out with Marianne’s situation. And then there was Marianne’s dog, Boris. Sometimes a dog can make all the difference in someone’s life. Again, the right dog at the right moment – kismet.

EB: So Stephanie got her feet under her, thanks to you and Marianne and of course Boris.

SC: Thanks to Stephanie mostly. We all have to do our own work to change our lives. Sometimes we just need a little space to do it in. Look at me, thinking I’d spend my whole life teaching math and science to seventh-graders. Important work, and I loved doing it. But there are other people out there to do that, and not so many to do what I’m doing at the moment.

EB: And Marianne, what about her? Stephanie has moved on, and Marianne’s sort-of romance with Carl has run its course. What’s next for her?

SC: Oh, that’s not for me to say. Of course I want her there, having my back as you put it. And me having her back. But. No point in counting on it. Doors and windows, you know. 

EB: Okay then, so what’s next for you?

SC: Just doing this, until the next thing. Maybe there will be another pivot and maybe there won’t. If a door closes and a window opens, I’m still agile enough to climb through it and see what’s on the other side.

—

BUY THE BREAKS HERE

Ellen Barker grew up in Kansas City during a period of demographic upheaval, and she returns there in her novels. She has a bachelor’s degree in urban studies from Washington University in Saint Louis, where she developed a passion for how cities work, and don’t. She began her career as an urban planner, then spent many years working for large consulting firms, first as a writer-editor and later managing large data systems. Her volunteer work involves years of pet-assisted therapy with children in “the system,” both foster care and prison. She is the author of East of Troost, which introduced readers to the neighborhood where The Breaks takes place, and Still Needs Work, which takes place in the same area. She now lives in California, with her husband and their German shepherd, Boris, who is the inspiration for the dog in this novel.

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: Interviews, On Writing