Prison Punishment Worsened by Administrative Ineptitude

 Transferring prisons is an exhausting and frustrating experience, but the frustration does not end there. 

Upon arriving at Parnall Correctional Facility in Jackson, Michigan, I had not showered since the night before, nor brushed my teeth since the morning. I felt dirty, sweaty, and tired. But I had none of my property, including a change of clothing and hygiene items for showering. "You should get your property tomorrow," we were told. That night, I slept in my sweaty clothing, after washing up as best as I could in the bathroom sink. 

The next day, the other two prisoners who transferred with me were finally able to make phone calls and access their emails. Mine was still not turned on at the new prison facility. We waited all day for our property, only to be told that it had not arrived with us. We would have to wait through the weekend and into the middle of the next week to get our property. 

Fortunately, after several requests and complaints, we were given temporary changes in clothing and a travel hygiene kit so we could brush our teeth and shower. We had to find our own shower shoes to borrow, and since I knew nobody to borrow from, I showered in my socks. It's a risky thing to go barefoot in a public shower! Still, a shower and brushing my teeth made me feel MUCH better!

All weekend, I tried to make phone calls to let my loved ones know where I was, but my communication options were cut off, at the mercy of some bureaucrat who didn't do his or her job properly. 

Finally, on Tuesday, five days after arriving at this prison, my phone and email were turned on, and I received my personal property. In the meantime, another kind prisoner, whom I'd never met before, had given me a spare pair of shower shoes so I didn't have to shower in my socks. It was a kind gesture not uncommon in prison, if one pays attention. 

The housing unit I was assigned at Parnall is a pole barn setting. I had spent 4 1/2 years in a pole barn at Lakeland Correctional Facility, but I had hoped to never have to bear that again. Fortunately, I was placed in a bunk away from the hallway, near a window. But then two or three days later, fortunately before I received my property, I was inexplicably moved within the housing unit. "Nobody" apparently knew why. Now, my entire bed lines the loud and bright hallway. 

The speaker right over my head blares numerous times a day and late into the night with officers calling this prisoner or that, or warning of pending count times and announcing when count is clear. These loud disruptions start just before 6AM and end after 11PM at night. I wonder how the prison administration expects prisoners to be rested for their classes. One of the first things I dug out after receiving my property was my earplugs. I hadn't had to use earplugs at the prison I just transferred from. 

Thankfully, the housing unit I am, at least temporarily, housed in is mostly calm and not especially loud (except for the officers shouting over the loudspeaker). Most of the prisoners here are in mandatory classes, like substance abuse and domestic violence prevention classes. Many are very close to paroling from prison. 

It didn't take me long to find a couple of guys to play Scrabble with, and I've already started a routine exercising each morning. Although I don't anticipate being here long, exercising is an important part of my routine that keeps me mentally and emotionally healthy. It's an outlet for stress that might otherwise leave me anxious all the time. 

Anyone who thinks American prisons are too easy on us prisoners ought to experience a day-long transfer in shackles and belly chains, the frustration of being unable to communicate with loved ones, and the nearly week-long loss of all one's property. They ought to experience living in a large, mostly open pole barn with only half walls with nearly 200 other prisoners. They ought to try sleeping while a loudspeaker over their head wakes them just as they start to doze off. They ought to try sleeping with their entire vulnerable body lining a hallway where dozens of other prisoners (including with violent pasts or currently mentally ill) walk past throughout the night. 

Yeah, prison is still punishment, still a tough experience to endure.