Serene Afternoons

Those of you that live in or near a major city have probably spent a weekend afternoon at your city’s largest park, and surely found it to be a unique and serene experience. From the joggers and bicyclists cruising the paths to the sport enthusiasts, to the dog lovers out for a stroll with their canine companions, there is a feeling of a gathering taking place for the common good, where all have left their troubles at home and come only to enjoy what nature and community have to offer. Even those of you who have never experienced this personally have surely seen cinematic evidence of a day in New York City’s Central Park, and can relate to what I’m describing.

Now picture the same Sunday in the park, only with all of its participants shirtless, tattooed convicts doing time for murder, drug dealing, and bank robbery. This is your typical weekend afternoon on a prison yard. (Those of you still picturing Central Park, remember that the distinction lies in the fact that we’ve been CONVICTED.)

Most of us are forced to work in some sort of trivial prison job during the week, so by the time the weekend rolls around we’re ready for some fun. So on a warm weekend day, we pour out of our cell blocks after lunch, and converge on the prison’s recreation yard, creating a spectacle (and threat) with a unique identity.

Rather than leave it to your imagination, let me take you on a tour so you can see for yourself:

As you pass through the metal detectors and get patted down, there’s a little shack where you can check out a ball, Frisbee, board game, jump rope, etc. You give the clerk your ID in exchange for what you want, and he’ll give it back when you return it.

There’s a half mile track around the outside of the whole yard. Some guys are jogging on it, occasionally stopping to do push ups or lunges, others are walking in groups of two or three or four, discussing everything from ex-girlfriends to prison politics.

There’s a full court basketball game with bleachers full of spectators. These guys are good.

A softball game. You get it over the prison’s wall, it’s a home run! Interestingly, the aluminum bats are NEVER used as weapons. They would then be taken away, and no one is willing to sacrifice that. It’s an unspoken RULE.

A row of guys laying on towels, suntanning, with radios on their ears, who knows where they have escaped to?

The Native American sweat lodge. Although considered a deeply spiritual and sacred part of Native American tradition, they will occasionally invite a non-native to join them. It is an honor and a privilege, and should not be taken lightly. A small domed bamboo structure covered in canvas, with heated rocks inside, much like a sauna. Also, the Native Americans are the only ones still allowed to smoke in prison (for Federal prison, at least). They are given a small amount of tobacco each week to smoke out of a pipe.

A group of men in a circle, taking turns “spitting” their own rap. Usually the next guy in line is expected to weave his verse(s) into the theme of the last guy’s either building on it or trying to make the last guy sound silly. There’s plenty of rules, though. You never talk about a guys mom, and definitely want to keep from calling anyone a “bitch.” That will get you killed. But these guys all know the rules, and have a good time. You better be good if you want to join in, though, they have no problem letting you know if you’re not up to their standards.

The Handball courts are always packed. Handball is one of the few sports that a guy can win based entirely on his own ability, so the Handball champion has supreme bragging rights. You better be in shape for that one, though.

There’s also just a whole lot of guys standing around. You’ll see groups of five, even ten guys just jawing away. You would think that the administration would have a problem with this, that they don’t want people getting together plotting, but I heard the Warden of one of these joints say something once that rings oh-so-true. He told his officers, “If you see two guys talking to each other, break ’em up and find out what they’re saying. If you see three or more talking, don’t worry about it, one of them is mine.” How do you like that!

Occasionally, some sort of problem will break out. Maybe it’s a fight, maybe even a killing. When this happens, the protocol is always the same. The guard in the fun tower starts shooting in the air, a voice booms over a loudspeaker that says, “GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!” which you do quickly, or you could get shot). However many officers are available come storming onto the yard to break it up. Believe me, there are a bunch of them trying to be heroes. You don’t want any part of them. The first time it happens it can be a little unsettling, but you quickly come to expect it a few times each season. The big gang fights are a little worse, but now’s not the time for that.

Once in a blue moon, someone will actually try to make a run on the wall or the fence. That never ends well for him. Prison breaks do happen, but not in broad daylight with the guards in towers with itchy trigger fingers who spend their whole lives waiting for such an event. I suppose it’s up to the warden whether they go for your knees or not, but the ones I’ve talked to tell me that they go for the biggest part of the body—the center of the chest (or back). Good luck, Clint Eastwood.

For the most part, we manage to exist peacefully and even find some happiness in our little fenced-in patch of sunshine. It’s not quite reminiscent of Manet’s The Luncheon on the Grass, or Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, but then, what is? One joint I was in even had its own little population of cats. They were spoiled rotten! Guys would buy tuna and mackerel from the commissary and bring it out to the furry little things, sometimes three times a day. Funny, I never saw one of the cats try to make a break for it.

Why am I here?

You may be wondering by now, “What’s this guy doing in a Maximum Security prison? He doesn’t seem like a killer.” Let me tell you, you’re soooo right. In fact, I haven’t always been in a Max Security joint. I started out in a fairly calm Medium Security Institution, but an unfortunate incident involving a 300 pound Nazi and a burrito compromised that. I’m not sure whether I blame the 300 pound Nazi or the burrito more, but let me tell you what happened, and you can decide for yourselves.

As we’ve already discussed, you cannot always choose who your cellmate is going to be around here. So I happened to draw a big skinhead fella named “Country” (never a good thing) (Think Deliverance) who had the brains of a rhesus monkey and the brawn of an 800 pound Silverback. I’m a cordial enough guy, so I basically gave this guy his space, respected his right to his opinions, and tried like hell to get along with him. You find that even with someone you can’t stand, there are moments of a mutual laughter and understanding.

Anyways, every Friday night, the prison would rent a couple movies and show them on the TV in the cell block (through a VCR in an office somewhere). Since this was kind of a special occasion, and they were showing a movie we wanted to see, me and a few of the guys all pitched in with some commissary food out of our lockers to make burritos. This guy named Red had a recipe that was absolutely out of this world—oh man, there was pepperoni, chili, mozzarella cheese, spices, vegetables—they were GOOD. We ended up being able to buy some tortilla shells from a guy who smuggled them out of the kitchen for a decent price, and we were in business. When they were all cooked up and put together, we had enough for four a piece, with one or two left over that we donated to a guy we liked but didn’t have any money at the time to pitch in.

The burritos were nice and fat, and I like to share, so I took two of them upstairs to my cell and offered my celly some free dinner. He declined, said he wasn’t hungry. I reminded him that these were very tasty, and that he would miss a treat if he didn’t eat at least one, but he was adamant in his refusal. I shrugged, and went down, got a soda, and set up my chair for the movie. A couple hours later, with a full belly (I ate ALL 4!) and some good goosebumps behind me (the movie was The Ring, creepy...), I decided to go out to the recreation yard for the last half hour it was open, and then come back to the cell to get ready for a shower.

When I walked in the cell, the big Nazi was sitting there, and looked up and said, “Where’s my burrito?” No kidding.

My response was something like, “Huh?”
“I want my burrito. That’s really #@!!ed up that you’re not going to share with me,” he said.
“But I TRIED TO GIVE YOU ONE!” I replied.
“I don’t care about that, I want one now.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I want my @#?!ing burrito!”
“But I offered, you said no, and then I went and ATE THEM! The only way you can get them now is on the way out!”

Perhaps he didn’t appreciate my pointing out the obvious. Or, this sudden burst of logic was more than he could handle. Maybe, just maybe, this was the first time he realized he actually wasn’t getting a burrito, and the disappointment overwhelmed him. I’ll never really know what made him reach out and punch me. A nice two-piece, once in the belly and once right on the chin. I was, needless to say, a little surprised.

I’m no small fry either, folks. And even though this guy was out there on the weight pile bench-pressing the equivalent of a VW Bug, he FAILED to knock me down. I actually stood there stunned for a second (both of us, really), before I looked up and said, “That really wasn’t cool. Why did you do that!?” (As lame as it sounds, it’s the truth.)

“Pack your @#?! and get out of MY cell!” was his response. I think he was really expecting a knock out.

In prison, there’s something we call “checking in.” It was going to the guards and asking them to put you in the “hole” for your own protection. That’s basically what this guy was telling me to do. It is seen as the ultimate sign of weakness, and you will never live it down. Unless it’s truly necessary, it’s simply not an option.

“That’s not an option,” I reminded him.
Apparently, that was the ONLY other option, because that’s when he jumped on me again. I was ready this time. It was on. I had no choice but to defend myself.

Most prison fights only last a few seconds. A lot of guys will carefully plan their attack so that there are cops close by then they take off on someone, that way they get their point across, but the cops come break it up before the other guy can get his feet underneath him and fight back. This time, however, there wasn't a cop in sight. We were going to have to do battle.

I held my own for a while, and we exchanged blows back and forth as we moved up and down the cell block. He was STRONG, and his punches hurt, but I got off enough of my own to keep him from overpowering me. Then he changed his strategy, and it was all over for the home team. He stopped punching, and actually started PICKING ME UP and throwing me at stuff. Not only did this begin a process of me getting a serious ass-whooping, but the stuff I was bouncing off of make a lot of noise, and that’s when the cops came running. By the time they got there, this guy was sitting on my chest punching me in the face, and I really wasn’t upset for the final bell to be rung. They took us both to the hole, and charged us with fighting.

The aftermath was this: The administration doesn’t buy any self-defense crap. They figure if you were fighting, you did something wrong, and get what you have coming. The don’t like violence in their “softer” prisons, and once they took a look at the video of the fight, decided that one of us had to go. We couldn’t co-exist in the same prison anymore. They chose me. They wrapped up my file, and shipped me out within a matter of weeks, and I landed in Leavenworth Federal Maximum Security Penitentiary. The big time, baby.

So here I am. I’m not in Leavenworth anymore. They closed it down and made it a lower security level. But I’m still in the Pen, and will be until I get out. I don’t fit in here, I don’t have the right attitude. I’m too reasonable. No matter though, this is where I'll stay. But I’ve seen a lot that’s worth remembering, and can tell you a few stories, so maybe it’s all worth while. I just roll with the punches.

A Dose Of Reality

Here’s something kind of fun. The whole inspiration for this website in the first place was seeing a couple of really bad movies about (or depicting) prison, and thinking to myself, “ya know, they probably believe it’s really like that.” But really, there is just not that much realism in prison cinema. A couple flicks have hit it right on, however. So what I thought I’d do is list the top 10 most authentic prison movies, and then tell you the ones NOT to believe. Here goes:

For a dose of reality:

1. The Shawshank Redemption—This movie captures the essence of a prisoners existence. From the sobering loneliness Andy felt alone in his cell at night to the irreplaceable camaraderie he felt with Red. This movie is just how it is. It’s a grind - the same thing all day every day, there’s always an us us, them battle between convicts and cops, and only the strong (and smart) survive.
2. Blood in, Blood out—This ultra violent gang-ridden prison portrays the fear one can live in when things aren’t going right. It also represents pretty accurately how hard it is to understand prison when you first get there.
   
3. Escape From Alcatraz—Shows how easy it is for the guards to control somebody. 30 days in the hole is a bitch. People don’t realize just what it takes inside to keep these cops from breaking us. Oh yeah, and men really do escape, but it is not easy.
4. Cool Hand Luke—Something about the way Struther Martin talks to people resonates oh-so-true. You really don’t want to have a “failure to communicate with the boss man” around here.
   
5. The Green Mile—After you remove the elements of the supernatural, what you get is a story about the conflict between prison guards about how to treat people. Dignity is often checked at the door for convicts, but some cops would rather you keep it.
6. Goodfellas—Money and power can get you special treatment in here. If you know the right people, the cops will look the other way sometimes, and corruption isn’t hard to come by.
7. Blow—Just at the very end, when you see that George Jung has been reduced to spending his days gardening on the prison yard. That’s what they do to you—take away everything you had and replace it with what amounts to nothing. Yet you still find some joy in that nothing.
8. Oz—While not a movie, this HBO series got one thing so perfect that I couldn’t keep it off this list. The way the prisoners all interact with each other is right on, with so many different people striving to be in charge. That’s the way they act here, everyone wants to be a chief, and no one wants to be an Indian. Respect comes from power.
9. Natural Born Killers—During the prison riot scene, I get goosebumps. Once things get out of hand in prison, it deteriorates quickly. No one has much of anything to lose. That’s my biggest fear really—dying in a riot in here. Once the mob mentality takes over, the only way to stop it is with brute force. Reason goes out the window.
10. I’m leaving this spot open for any future movie that manages to portray the actual number of stupid people in prison in a compelling way.

And finally, here are a few things to stay away from if you’re looking for reality:

1. Any movies where Jean Claude Van Damme or Steven Seagal end up in jail—Not only do tough guys like that just not exist, but if they did, they would undoubtedly piss enough people off that their impressive ass-kicking sills would no longer matter.
2. Prison chick movies—Yeah right. You wish.
3. Most any comedy that is predicated on the premise that forced sodomy is funny, and somehow convinces people that “dropping the soap” will lead to an unwanted intrusion. Bend at the KNEES, people.
4. Ernest goes to jail—I’m not sure I need to explain.

Until we meet again...

What is prison even for?

Not long ago, I observed that “no one knows what prison is for anymore.” I included this comment in a mostly sardonic and observational post, one that did not address the prison “purpose” issue in ANY detail. Yet I received some feedback on that particular comment, so I’m going to take the time to expound on the thought.

When I say no one knows what prison is for, I am over looking the obvious. Of course the immediate goal of incarceration is to get criminals off the street and in a place where they can no longer do harm to the law abiding public. Beyond that, however, I fear that the powers that be have become mired in a punishment for us, rehabilitation debate, and lost a sense of objective. It seems that the strategy presented to the public is to provide criminals an environment where they will certainly be deprived of their basic freedoms, yet be offered opportunities for character and vocational growth; hopefully leading to a successful reintegration into society without further incident.

The sad reality is much different. From the inside, it is not difficult to see that overcrowding and under staffing has led to a situation in which inmates are merely being warehoused, and through lack of supervision and structure the criminal element is allowed to thrive. The majority of productivity must be done on an individual basis, and most of the individuals in prison lack the decision-making and goal-setting ability to attain that productivity—it is why they are imprisoned in the first place. Further more, in certain “cultures,” having done a prison “bit” is a symbol of status, of making one’s bones, earning his proverbial stripes. Instead of re-entering society with a need for humility, they are more respected for having done their time than they were before. The ultimate negative reinforcement.

I am not suggesting that prison should be a daycare environment with a smorgasbord of opportunity and privilege for the incarcerated. I cannot envision a scenario that will reinforce the need for moral and ethical based behavior in even a majority of these men. Yes, we need to be punished for our crimes. Of course the basic methodology is that we should endure a modicum of suffering to offset the suffering we have caused others. But at what cost? The cost of precious tax dollars with little result?

The recidivism rate is astronomically high. More than 50% of men who serve a prison sentence will be incarcerated again within a year of their release. If this is not empirical evidence of the prison system failing to perform its purpose, then none can be found. This applies whether you take the rehab approach or not. For if prisons are solely meant for punishment, then the punishment should still be severe enough to serve as a deterrent to future unlawful behavior. We would most likely desire a healthy amalgam of the Punishment/Rehab models, but it has to WORK.

I think it is reasonable to say that citizens have an expectation that men being released from prison are somehow better for the experience. I am telling you that in a large percentage of cases, this is not so. Perhaps at another time we will discuss the utter lack of social support for those that do exit exhibiting improvement, but it is a separate (although related) issue.

I doubt there is a perfect solution to this problem. Perhaps the problem lies not entirely within the prison system at all, and crosses over into the JUSTICE system itself. (All Libertarians, Anarchists, Socialists, and the like, feel free to chime in here about victimless crimes, big brother, personal freedom...). All I am suggesting here is that we formulate a strategy, and let all parties involved in on the plan. It seems the only current observable strategy is “If you build it, they will come,” and it is working all too well.

Some clarification!

Well, we’re only a little ways into this project, and I’ve already learned a few things. Most of it will turn out to be a positive thing, and since we’re all about honesty here in this little corner of cyberspace, here it is:

1. This writing thing is harder than I expected. Not that I don’t know how to write—I am an aspiring journalist/novelist with plenty of experience. But, with this blog, I feel like I’m speaking directly to you. That makes me a little nervous. On top of that, I can’t go back and change what I’ve said. Once one of these goes in the mail, it’s a done deal. I think like any writer, as soon as you write something down, you begin to question it. That’s a little tough. I don’t get the benefit of a second draft.
2. You can’t please everyone, so why try? I quickly realized that the whole point of this blog page is to give you MY unique perspective on things. Yet I have secretly been “softening” my opinions in order to placate the masses. That’s not the way it should be. If you can’t handle some thought-provoking opinion, then don’t let the mouse click hit you in the hyperlink on the way out. Ambiguity is boring.
3. Writing about prison is my theme here, and it’s probably why you’re reading, but I’ve got a little more to get off my chest than just stories about the joint. I'll always try to keep it topical, and hopefully will never bore you, but expect a little bit more out of me from now on. Not that I’ve been “dumbing it down,” but I’m capable of a little bit more than I’ve been giving, and quickly got tired of holding back.
4. Also related to #3, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve mostly been presenting this in an “informal,” semi-sarcastic voice. While that is fairly representative of my personality and what I intended for this site, there are some very serious issues affecting our nations prisons, and I will not hesitate to address them in the sincere, candid manner they deserve. Again with the topical thing, there are some non-penal issues I’d like to touch on as well. I’m not looking to run a propaganda machine here, and I’m certainly no Limbaugh or Huffington, so take it for what it’s worth.
5. Besides all the negative (yet intriguing) aspects of prison, there are a few positive things that go on in here, too. This place is a breeding ground for creativity. Don’t be surprised if you see the occasional poem, short story, drawing, painting, or even song pop up on this site. Arts & crafts are popular here, maybe I’ll give you a little DIY project now & then.

When I started this, I knew it would be a dynamic process, and that I would have to find my voice. We’re getting there. I am hoping that through reader input I can shape this to really be something special. Whatever happens, I won’t give up, so don’t give up on me. I’ve just learned that I have a whole section to fill on personal interests, so look forward to that. I’ll try to get a few top 10 lists up there.

One last thing. Although I never intended this site to lead to any pen-pal relationships, and certainly want NO profit from it, I am going to post my mailing address on the “about me” section. If something I say engages you so much that you wish to contact me personally, feel free. I’ll respond to each and every letter.

That’s all for now. Enjoy the “upgrade” and keep checking in!