Want to Set Your Own Shower Temperature? Stay out of Prison!

 This past weekend was absolutely beautiful! It was in the 70s and sunny, and the prison yards were full of people. Some prisoners were shooting basketballs and some were hacky sacking, but most were just walking or sitting around talking. It was just too nice to stay indoors. 

On big yard, some prisoners were playing softball while others were running, playing horseshoes, or walking. Many others were sitting on picnic tables soaking up the sun, talking in groups. 

On Saturday I exercised in the gym before spending some time outside in the sun. I had worked up a good sweat and was ready for a refreshingly cool shower. The problem is that in prison, one cannot adjust the water temperature in the shower. It is set by the prison maintenance team, so regardless of the outside temperature, the water temp is the same. 

So, after working up a sweat, I came back to the housing unit and got in the shower...where the water was hot enough to keep me from cooling down at all. Still, it got me clean, so I'm thankful for that. 

It's at times like these where I remember the small things I appreciate about what I had before prison. Sure, I think about the food I could choose to eat rather than the carb heavy, boring and mostly unhealthy prison food. I also think about being able to go wherever I want, get up and go to bed whenever I want, and pursue whatever passions I have for work and play. 

But there are hundreds of little things we often forget until something happens to remind us. I can't wait to text instead of having to wait for a mailroom to release a message. I can't wait to sit in my own home where it's peaceful and quiet instead of listening to the constant and oppressive noise of the prison housing unit. I hope I never again hear the phrase, "You hear me?" Yes, I hear every single word you're saying because you're talking so freakin' loud! 

I can't wait to sleep without earplugs in my ears, and to sleep on a bed that doesn't make my back hurt every day. I can't wait to wash my laundry in a washing machine instead of having to hand wash everything so that I have clean clothes. Our prison laundry makes our clothes dirtier, instead of returning them clean. 

I could go on and on, but every little thing that I hate about prison is another reason to never come back. I don't need these reasons because the regret I have for causing the harm I did is enough. But prison life is not the kind of life I want, so these many daily frustrations are simply another reason to never come back. 

And when I do leave prison, I hope I never lose the gratitude I'll feel the first time I get to set my own shower temperature again after a hot and sweaty day.

Covid Changed How Michigan Prisons Operate

 When the Covid-19 pandemic hit the United States, prisons were especially hard hit. As total institutions, with men (and women in women's prisons) crammed tightly together in small spaces and sharing restrooms and common areas, prisons let the pandemic spread like wildfire. 

Many incarcerated men and women lost their lives, and even more suffered the effects of Covid without the comforts of home and loved ones to care for them. Some are even still experiencing the effects of long Covid. 

For reasons I'll never understand, our Governor, Gretchen Whitmer, chose to not utilize her administrative powers to release low risk prisoners on tether in order to minimize the spread and effects of the virus. Some other states utilized tether programs to reduce their prison populations and lessen the danger to the lives of their prisoners. 

Across the nation, prison administrators implemented measures to attempt to reduce the spread of the virus in prisons, but these measures were largely ineffective. In Michigan, prisons eliminated in-person visits and eventually introduced video visitation. It's not the same, but at least we can still see our loved ones. 

Video visits are still available for Michigan prisoners, which is a good thing, although they are limited to twenty minutes and cost our loved ones roughly $3.50. The technology has also had a lot of glitches and problems, making video visits often frustrating. The machines are also installed in high traffic areas with no privacy for the prisoner and his visitor(s).  

In-person visits have also returned to Michigan's prisons, but they are now much changed. We used to be able to have hours long visits, stopped only by the end of visiting times or an influx of visitors that required cancellation of some visits. Our visitors also did not need to "reserve" a visit. Now, our visitors must utilize an outside service (GTL) to reserve a visiting time, and visits are limited to a maximum of two hours. 

Movement within Michigan prisons was also limited during Covid. Prisons that had open yard times either shut yards down entirely or restricted the times when each housing unit could be on yard. Now that the pandemic is over, Michigan prisons have continued to use restricted movement plans. 

I am in a level 1 prison (Parnall Correctional Facility), which is Michigan's least restrictive level, and movement here is controlled like more restrictive levels were prior to Covid. Additionally, internal fences that separate housing units were installed during Covid, and they remain in place even today. Housing units are also still isolated from each other to some degree. 

Michigan's prison system, at least, has taken advantage of the changes the Covid pandemic prompted in order to implement stricter controls and offer prisoners fewer activities and options for positive use of their time. Michigan's severe corrections officer shortage has not helped the situation, either. 

It's unclear to me whether Michigan will ever return to pre-pandemic practices and policies, but it seems unlikely. It appears like we're stuck with these more restrictive and less supportive measures.

Is there Life After Prison?

 I know of a prisoner who paroled this morning after serving a 30 year sentence. He's spent around two-thirds of his life in prison. When he came to prison in 1994, cellphones were a new thing, flat screen TVs didn't exist (at least commercially), and the internet was in its infant stages. Facebook, Google, SpaceX, Crypto Currency, and so many other things we take for granted today did not exist. 

I can't imagine how this prisoner felt as he approached his parole date. The entire world had changed, and many people in his family had died. It must have felt like he was about to enter a foreign country without any clue of how to survive. 

The closer I get to my parole date, the more I think about life after prison, too. So many unknowns hang over my head, but I'm still hopeful. I'm hopeful that I can get my life back together, get a job and eventually start a business again, eventually purchase a home, and live out some of the dreams I've dreamt over the past 15 years in prison. 

Of course, I have my criminal history to contend with. I'll always have the scarlet letter "C" (for ex-Convict) hanging over my head. I'll have restrictions on housing, job opportunities, travel (initially), and many other things that become harder with a felony conviction. Yes, society is more willing to give some of us a second chance to prove ourselves, but I know some people will always see me as the sum of my worst choices. 

Daniel Diermeier, an expert in reputation management, says that the only way to cure a bad reputation is to behave your way out of it. For fifteen years in prison, I've been doing just that, but I know I have a lot more to prove to people who really matter to me. I'm willing to put that hard work in, though. It's worth every bit of struggle. 

I know I can never erase the harm I caused, and I have to live with that regret. But I'm also committed to holding myself accountable. I've already been working on the issues that led me to prison in the first place. I'll continue that work after prison, too, and I'll engage the help of counselors and mentors to help me stay the course. 

I'm sure the world has changed a lot in the last fifteen years, and people have changed too. I know I've changed a lot. I can only hope others will give me a chance to demonstrate that change and show that I'm not the man I once was. 

I feel excited in some ways to face the newness of life outside of prison, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my apprehensions too. Yet, I've never been one to back down from a challenge. Some challenges are worth every bit of pain and sacrifice involved. 

Rebuilding a good reputation might take me a lifetime, but frankly a reputation is nothing more than fruit from one's way of living. As we say in prison, "Don't talk about it. Be about it." So, don't take my word for it. Just give me a chance to show you.

Duplicitous Justice--Sending Kids to Prison for Life While Blaming the Parents

 In a recent edition of the Criminal Defense Newsletter, an article noted, "No country other than the United States permits sentencing children to life [in prison] without parole, and Michigan leads the nation in people serving this sentence" (Feb. 2024, Vol. 47, Issue 5). 

This statistic deeply saddens me. Some might justify the practice of sending children to prison for the rest of their lives by noting that some other countries would probably execute these children. That's not a comfort though. Life in prison IS an execution, but it's a slow, cruel one. 

Michigan prides itself for being progressive, but its criminal justice system is one of the toughest, most archaic in the nation. When the United States Supreme Court ruled that former juveniles serving life in prison must be resentenced (and their youthfulness considered as a factor), Michigan dragged its feet. Some of these prisoners have STILL not been resentenced, more than a decade after the Supreme Court's ruling!

Recently, Oxford High School shooter, Ethan Crumbley, was tried as an adult and sentenced to four life sentences. He was only the most recent high profile juvenile sentenced to life in prison in Michigan. The criminal justice system tried Ethan as an adult and gave him an adult sentence. But, then the same "justice" system held the child Ethan's parents accountable and found them guilty of manslaughter. 

On one hand, Ethan was treated as a competent adult, but then when it came time to prosecute his parents, he was a mentally ill child who the parents should have had more control over. I don't see how the "justice" system can have it both ways. Mark my words. Either Ethan or his parents will get back on appeal over this duplicity. 

If Ethan was a competent adult who is responsible for his actions, than his parents cannot be held culpable for his actions. But if he was a mentally ill, immature and irresponsible child, then he should not have been tried as an adult. His parents, then, should have held some culpability. 

Let me be clear. What Ethan did is horrific and tragic. Four families' lives were changed that day, and many more have suffered the after effects of his actions. If Ethan was not mentally ill, he should pay for his crimes. But is it justice to send him--a child himself--to prison for the rest of his life? Is he incapable of rehabilitation? Perhaps that justice system knows what every prisoner already knows--the prison system does not rehabilitate people. 

And if we as a society want to start holding parents responsible for the behavior of their children, as the court did with Ethan's parents, then the parents' irresponsibility ought to be a significant mitigating factor in the child's sentence. 

I doubt Michigan will lead the way in this common sense approach to justice. It's already too busy leading the way in sentencing more children to life in prison than any other state, and nation, on earth.

The Addicts are Dropping Like Flies in Prison

Last week was a banner day in prison, but for all the wrong reasons. In a two or three day period, at least fifteen prisoners at Parnall Correctional Facility overdosed on drugs. As far as I know, they all survived, but it's only a matter of time before someone dies. 

Many Michigan prisoners over the last few years have turned to a substance that is referred to in prison as "paper" or "toonch." Apparently, it mimics the effects of crack, but it is a chemical substance sprayed on paper. Rumor has it that some "toonch" is bug spray on paper. I'm not an expert, so I wouldn't know, but the main key for these prisoners is that the administration cannot test for its use. That means it's difficult to hold these prisoners accountable. It's also very difficult for the administration to catch the drug coming in to prison. 

Nevertheless, the effects are obvious. Some prisoners who have used start acting highly erratic, even stripping naked at times and writhing on the ground. Others fall on the ground and appear to seize, slurring their speech or drooling on themselves. The effects usually last for less than an hour. 

The prisoners who use these substances also often run up debts with the dealers. Some concoct stories to get their families to pay their debts, but others have to "lock up" when they can't pay. They ask the officers for protection and then go into protective custody. They avoid paying their insurmountable debt, but that debt often catches up with them at whatever other prison they are then transferred to. 

As a prisoner who is trying to find productive and constructive ways to spend his time in prison, it's frustrating to see the lack of purpose, the hopelessness, and the stupidity that is running rampant here. As a prisoner who facilitates a substance abuse recovery group, it feels pretty hopeless. The pull of the paper (and other substances) is strong, and so many men are ill equipped to say no. Some simply don't want to. 

It's maddening when the administration reacts to these overdoses by taking away our privileges and increasing our lock downs. But what other remedies are there? Last week, I wrote about the MDOC's wasteful expenditures on a body scanner that isn't even looking in the right places for illicit substances. Perhaps looking in the right places would be a good start. 

Eventually, I'm sure the administration will have the ability to test for these substances. Recent batches have apparently been adulterated with fentynal, and tests are already available to test for that. That's a step in the right direction. But they'll never be able to stop the trade. As long as there are humans involved (prisoners and officers), there will be greed driving the trade. 

The real key to changing this drug driven narrative is to change hearts and minds. But you can't force or coerce that kind of change. It has to come naturally, or when, as they say in A.A., the users have hit "rock bottom." Apparently for some, prison isn't far down enough. Sadly, for many only death will stop their decline. Let's hope that for most it won't go that far.  

Budget Shortages and Misplaced Priorities in Michigan Prisons

Despite having one of the highest per prisoner costs in the country, Michigan always seems to be short of money for important investments in prison. But that doesn't stop the MDOC from making expensive investments with taxpayer dollars that do little to solve the problems they aim to solve. 

Several Michigan prisons have crumbling infrastructures, and everywhere you look in prison, something isn't working properly or is falling apart. Parnall Correctional Facility, in Jackson, for example, is designated an ADA "medical facility," housing a larger than normal population of disabled or elderly prisoners. Nevertheless, its paved areas inside the prison are crumbling, making it dangerous and difficult for prisoners in wheelchairs and with canes or walkers. Its medication line is outside and uncovered, too, forcing some elderly and ill prisoners to stand outside in inclement weather while waiting for their medications. 

And this is only one of hundreds of examples of infrastructure problems in Michigan's prison system. 

But instead of investing in fixing these problems, prisons like Parnall's install pointless additional fencing in a low security prison and purchase million dollar equipment to allegedly stop illicit drugs from entering the prison. 

After a recent visit with a family member, I waited with the other prisoners for our traditional strip search. This search is meant to discover any contraband prisoners might attempt to smuggle into the prison after a visit. Yet, instead of the traditional one-at-a-time strip search we normally endure, we were ushered into a different process. 

Two officers escorted the group of us prisoners to a different building. After arriving, we had to wait until a Sergeant arrived to supervise (another new process). We were then subjected, one-by-one, to a full body scan with the prison's newest pricy toy, I mean tool. And then we were strip searched anyway. 

I asked the Sergeant how much radiation we were being exposed to, but he claimed they weren't exposing us to anything. The radiation symbols on the papers secured to the wall behind his head seemed to indicate otherwise. Apparently I'm supposed to be too dumb to recognize the symbols. 

The problem I have with this entire new process isn't the triple or quadruple time it takes to process prisoners, despite the MDOC's claims that they are 1000 officers short. It's that the prison staff KNOW this process is unlikely to stop the smuggling of drugs into prison. They know that only a small amount come in through visits and that most come in through corrupt staff members. Yet, only prisoners are exposed to the full body scans and intrusive searches. 

A million-plus dollar investment is not going to solve a problem when the real problem is ignored. But scrutinizing staff members might lead to even worsening shortages. I get it. 

Still, Michigan taxpayers ought to know how the MDOC is spending parts of its $2.2+ BILLION dollar budget to solve probably less than 10% of the drug problem in prison. 

Trying to Stay in Prison - Confessions of an Idiot

 This past week I heard another prisoner say something that not only astonished me but also infuriated me. He claimed, "I'm a smart criminal. I've never been caught for any of the crimes I've committed. I'm in prison because someone lied on me." 

I was furious with him because he had also just finished describing a crime he planned on committing when he left prison. Of course, he didn't believe it was a crime. He thought he was justified. 

The most astonishing part of it all was that this prisoner was not talking to another prisoner. He was saying these ridiculous things to a prison employee! I was within 10 feet of the conversation, and I wanted to shout, "You are CLEARLY not a smart criminal, you IDIOT!" 

I doubt this prisoner thought about that the fact that the employee he was speaking to was required to report things like what she heard from him. After that prisoner left, the prison employee later expressed concern about the prisoner's parole status. Apparently she knew the information he'd divulged might jeopardize the recent parole he'd received. 

This isn't the first stupid thing I've heard in prison, but it certainly ranks up pretty high. Admitting to a prison employee one's plans to commit another crime after leaving prison? Completely ludicrous.

More frustrating, though, is that this prisoner clearly had embraced a criminal mindset. After at least two years (probably more) in prison, he was still thinking about how to commit crimes, and he was reveling in getting away with his previous crimes. So much for the prison's investment in training this prisoner in a vocational trade. 

I should be used to entrenched criminal thinking since I'm surrounded by it. Perhaps it says more about my misplaced belief in humanity than about the state of the so called "brilliant" criminal minds around me. I honestly don't know why I still have a tendency to believe in people. I ought to have given up a long time ago. 

I guess it's a good thing that I still have some hope for even the most hopeless among prisoners. But some guys REALLY make it difficult for me to see a positive future for them. Delusional isn't even a strong enough word for some prisoners. 

But, you can't force prisoners (or anyone for that matter!) to change. One must want to change, or it'll never happen, or at least never stick. I hope this guy decides to change before he ruins his life or the lives of others.

Prison is Full of Deadbeat, Dysfunctional Dads

My dad was a good dad. 

That's a difficult thing for me to say, but it's true. He was by no means perfect, and I held resentment towards my dad for many years. I felt abandoned by him growing up, and as an adult, I still felt like I was not important to my father. He died a few years ago, and our relationship was, sadly, still strained. I missed his funeral and was excluded from it in every way. I don't even know where he's buried.

But my dad was a good dad. And not many prisoners can say that about their fathers. 

My dad provided for our family and was a hard worker. My entire childhood, my dad had a decent job. He never shied away from his responsibility of providing for his family. We didn't have a lot when I was growing up, but we had enough. And my dad is the reason. 

We didn't have fancy cars, expensive vacations, or big houses. But I have fond memories of camping together, roller skating together, fishing together. I even remember when he defended me in my first neighborhood fist fight. I still smile when I hear him say, "Get up, both of you! Okay, now it's a fair fight. Continue." I'm not sure if that was the right way to parent, but it filled me with courage that my dad believed in me. I chased that bully all the way out of our neighborhood. 

My dad never abused me. He was a kind man who hated to even spank us kids. He was emotionally sensitive, and I used to think his quickness to cry was a weakness. But I see now that it was a strength. He had a heart for people, even if at times I wished he noticed me like he did others. 

My dad taught me to love The Three Stooges. He let me watch baseball games on WGN Saturdays in the garage. I'm a big Cubs fan today because of him even though I don't think he was a Cubs fan. 

Dad wasn't a materialistic guy. I never learned from him that things defined me. He was content with simple things, and I credit him for teaching me the same. I also credit him for teaching me to serve others. Mom taught me that, too, but Dad would drop everything to help a neighbor. 

Dad had his flaws, for sure. He didn't like conflict (neither do I), so he taught me to avoid it by leaving. I've had to unlearn that. He also had trouble connecting with people in deep ways. I inherited that from him, too, but I've now discovered that authentic living helps me connect more easily with others. I wish Dad had learned that, too. Maybe he did late in life. 

So many emotions flood me when I think of my Dad. Longing, loss, regret, sadness, gratefulness, happiness. When I hear the horror stories of terrible dads from other prisoners, I'm so grateful that my Dad was a good dad. But I'm also overwhelmed with sadness and regret that I failed to be the dad I always longed to be. 

A lot of prisoners are dads who are filled with regret and pain over their failures as dads. I'm constantly overwhelmed with the pain I feel over my failures. I wish I could talk to my dad about what I'm feeling. He probably wouldn't know what to say, but I know he'd listen. He'd probably cry, too, and I'd not get any answers--he wasn't a fixer like me. I'm pretty sure, though, that I'd feel better having talked to him. 

I wish I had been a good dad, too, like my dad. 

Prison's Epidemic of Dishonesty Among Prisoners and Staff

 The other day, I was talking with another prisoner about how often we hear people lying around us in prison. It's definitely at epidemic proportions. And most of it is absolutely unnecessary. 

I've always viewed honesty as an extremely important character quality. Of course, that didn't stop me from living a lie and holding a double standard about lying. Looking back, I don't know how I justified to myself holding honesty in such high regard while I practiced exactly the opposite. It makes no sense to me. 

I'm sure my own disgust at my prior dishonesty has only served to reinforce my view that honesty is critically important. Yet, I'm surrounded by lies. 

Many prisoners lie about everything. They lie about their conviction, about their "innocence," about money they owe to other prisoners, about their substance use in prison, and even about their past "successes" prior to prison. I've heard prisoners lying on the phone to their loved ones, usually about other relationships, money, and their activities in prison. 

The friend I was talking with about lies in prison said he even recently heard another prisoner tell someone on the phone that he found a rat's head in his food. The prisoner was trying to secure money, purportedly for food so he didn't have to eat in the chow hall. What he really needed the money for was more likely drug debts. 

It's true that prison food is terrible. It's the lowest quality food I've ever eaten, and it is often cooked poorly. The potatoes are always gritty from not being cleaned properly, and what little vegetables we're fed are usually animal feed quality and overcooked. But we don't have rat's heads in our food. 

One time in fifteen years I found a maggot in my food. It was a terrible experience and made me question all the food the prison fed me. It didn't help that I was accused of planting the maggot! As if I'd know where to even find a maggot... But cases like these are relatively rare. 

Prisoners aren't the only ones who lie in prison. Prison staff routinely lie to prisoners, and the entire system lies to the public and the legislature. Other prisoners call it "spinning" when a staff member lies to them. I call it what it is: lying. And it's at epidemic proportions even among prison staff. 

Nobody really holds any of these liars accountable. Prisoners often get away with lying, though sometimes another prisoner will call the liar out on his BS. Sometimes staff attempt to hold prisoners accountable for lying, but that seems highly hypocritical, given the frequency of lies among prison staff themselves. 

For prisoners to really change their criminal thinking and behaviors, they must make a commitment to deal only with the truth. We can't expect honesty to be modeled by prison staff, but developing the character of honesty shouldn't depend on others doing likewise. 

People convicted of crimes already have a trustworthiness problem, so if we're to recover, or build for the first time, trustworthy reputations, we have to begin by committing to the truth. Sometimes the truth is difficult, but when you're honest, you don't have to worry about keeping your story straight. It's a much more comfortable way of living. Trust me, I should know.

Suffocated to Death in the Name of Justice

 A few days ago, Alabama prisoner, Kenneth Smith, was executed by the State using a new, and highly controversial method of killing. He was suffocated to death when he was forced to breathe a nitrogen gas. The nitrogen gas replaced the oxygen in Smith's lungs and cells, causing his body to die, violently, from suffocation. 

Smith's death was allegedly supposed to be quick and painless. The nitrogen was supposed to render him unconscious, and then his body would die from starvation of oxygen. But he didn't die quickly, or painlessly. Observers report that Smith was visibly conscious for several minutes while he gasped for air and his body convulsed violently. 

This state-sanctioned killing was conducted in a country who polices other countries for their human rights abuses. We chastise other countries for hanging or shooting political dissidents and other citizens who we deem unworthy of death. Meanwhile, we kill our own citizens, perhaps in more barbaric ways, because they "deserve" to die. The moral contradiction is glaring. 

I oppose the death penalty primarily on moral grounds. I think it is morally, and biblically, wrong. But I also oppose it on human rights and legal grounds. Our country has executed many innocent people because our justice system has put more weight on the finality of a judgment by a jury of peers than on evidence of one's innocence. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves, and we ought to stop telling other countries how to be more moral if we don't occupy the moral high ground ourselves. 

Kenneth Smith may very well have been guilty of the crime for which he was convicted. I don't know the details of his case, or of his guilt or innocence. I'm sure if I did I would be outraged by the harms he may have caused. But in 2024, do we still believe that harms can be balanced by killing the person guilty of those harms? Is our world better because we've eliminated a threat to our "good"? 

I'm sure Iran, North Korea, China, and other countries with known human rights abuses feel justified in eliminating people who threaten their country's "good" too. We can disagree what is good for those countries, and therefore justify our outrage over their executions, but how are we any different in the end? 

Alabama is in the "Bible Belt" in America, and sadly, those who support the death penalty often use the Bible to justify their beliefs. They don't understand their Bibles, and they pick and choose what parts of the Bible to use to support their moral positions. They've elevated an ancient law of limits ("an eye for an eye") over the final word of the Law Giver, Jesus. Even Jesus refused to support the death penalty, even when Jewish law was clear. "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone," Jesus directed. Then, the only one without sin (Jesus) refused to cast the first stone. 

It's time for America to outlaw the death penalty. We cannot continue to call ourselves the world's moral police while killing our own citizens in the name of justice. Suffocating someone to death is not justice, no matter how you slice it.

Here's the Truth about Fictional Prison Claims

 I have a background in Internet marketing and public relations, so I tend to notice marketing ploys and public relation strategies. Lately, I've noticed a concerted effort by the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC) to improve their public image, through a fanciful marketing campaign and more recently through media stories intended to generate good will. 

For years the MDOC has claimed that its focus is on rehabilitation. While they have offered some rehabilitative programming over the years, it has often been low quality curriculum or apathetic instruction. Programming that prisoners are required to take prior to their paroles have often been provided late, even delaying many prisoners' paroles. Required programming is, by some instructors (but definitely not all), treated as something to check off a list rather than as an honest attempt to change hearts and minds. 

To be fair, though, education, especially that's designed to change thinking and behavior, cannot be coerced. It simply isn't effective; however, prisoner initiated education and rehabilitation is, but only if it is allowed. 

In recent years, the MDOC has allowed college programs to operate within prison. This began after then President Obama initiated a limited return of PELL grant funding for prisoners. Now, the MDOC is touting its new focus on educating prisoners, but its messaging is deceptive. 

The MDOC director and perhaps a few others may genuinely desire to educate prisoners since research has shown a direct correlation between education and reduced re-offense rates. However, college programs are sometimes poorly supported by the MDOC, and their motivation appears to be driven more by money and public image than a true desire to change hearts and minds. 

A recent local news story touted the MDOC's push for more prisoner education, and its recruitment commercials laughingly claim, "compassion works here...unfriendly does not." Meanwhile, administrators at SMT (and most certainly at other Michigan prisons) are facilitating the extreme censorship of educational materials. Free educational programs available to prisoners, like the PEN Writing Program and Cornell University's Prisoner Express, are rejected due to "voluminous mail" limits. Policy now limits the number of pages to 12, far fewer than what is mailed out in free educational programs. 

Exceptions to this page limit policy do not exist, even for educational, rehabilitative, and religious materials. Consequently, the MDOC sells to the public its "educational and rehabilitative focus" while actually thwarting prisoners' efforts to educate and rehabilitate themselves. 

Apparently, if there's no money in it for the MDOC it's not allowed. 

One thing I have learned through Restorative Justice literature, prior to the MDOC's recent extreme censorship practices, is that honesty is critically important. One cannot expect to find any genuine restoration without a radical commitment to truth. This and other important truths are critical for prisoners to learn, if they are to genuinely change their hearts and minds and become safe citizens who positively contribute to their communities. 

Perhaps more prisoners would learn the importance of truth telling if the MDOC also committed to honesty and truth in its marketing and communication with the tax paying public.

Prison Mail Restrictions Work Against Rehabilitation Efforts

 I have to imagine that writing rules for how prisons run is difficult and extremely complex. You'd think with hundreds of years of experience, they'd have it all figured out, but new situations constantly arise. But, perhaps more problematic is when rules are created to solve one problem and yet cause many others. 

Michigan's prison rules regarding mail handling is one area where whoever creates the rules have actually caused more than they intended to solve. At least from a prisoner's perspective. 

When I first came to prison in 2009, prisoners could receive photographs, crayon drawings, glitter held on by glue, publications prisoners themselves wrote, and mail of any "reasonable" volume. But in the last nearly 15 years, much has changed. 

Today, Michigan prisoners cannot receive any photographs on photo paper, nothing on the paper other than pen ink, any publication they themselves have written and published, and nothing with more than 12 single sided or 6 double sided pages. Furthermore, we only receive photocopies of our mail and not the originals. That makes it impossible to get a color photo on regular paper through the mail, for example, because it will be photocopied before being delivered to us. 

Whoever makes these rules likely has good reasons for why they make them, but they don't often think through the full implications. Photocopying mail might stop illicit material from coming through on the paper, but it also stops us from receiving emotionally important drawings and creations from our children or grandchildren. Most people have even stopped sending prisoners holiday cards, because we can't get anything but a photocopy of them anyway. Furthermore, these mail restrictions haven't in any way slowed or stopped the influx of drugs into the prison system. Those come in through officers and other ways, not through the regular mail system. 

Volume limits are a recent problem, the latest in a string of increasingly restrictive mail rules. For example, I have recently had several pieces of mail rejected due to volume restrictions. I had signed up for several free educational programs for prisoners, including the PEN Writing Program. However, their mailings are more than 6 double sided pages, so their mail was rejected. I also participate in a Bible study through the mail, and that too, was recently rejected for volume reasons. (This is a lawsuit waiting to happen as it violates religious liberties.)

These new volume rules are limiting prisoners' ability to participate in educational and religious programs through the mail. The prison system has now made it very difficult for prisoners to voluntarily participate in things that will help them spend their time in prison constructively. While the Department touts its focus on "rehabilitation," it actively undermines rehabilitation efforts. 

Prisoners are allowed to appeal these decisions, but I have personally experienced a significant push back against my right to appeal these decisions. In fact, the prison refuses to follow the same policy that restricts our mail when it comes to our right to appeals. They do whatever they want to and make it impossible, other than through lawsuits, to have reason guide their decision making. 

If one appeals too often, which happens when a prisoner is actively pursuing constructive things to do with his time, he is labeled a "troublemaker." Prison administrators would rather prisoners spend their time mindlessly watching TV or playing cards, dominoes, and chess. I personally want to spend my time learning and developing as a person, not in mindless activities that keep me engaged in the destructive prison culture. 

I don't know what the solution to this problem is, but I know that when administrators do not use reason and discretion in their application of rules, they undermine prisoner rehabilitation and cost the state money in senseless lawsuits. Someone in administration needs to take accountability for these stupid policies, or at least the stupid application of them. Instead, they pass the buck and blame someone else. Funny. They urge us to take responsibility for our behavior and not shift blame to others, but they provide a pretty example of doing just the opposite. Typical.

As If Prisoners Need Any Other Cause for Cognitive Decline

This past week, I saw on the news a story about recent research into sleep deprivation. Studies have linked sleep deprivation with cognitive decline, not surprisingly. The study also showed that 1 in 3 Americans do not get sufficient sleep. 

One would think that prisoners are not among those numbers. After all, we have nothing better to do than sleep, right? Well, sadly, prisoners are often sleep deprived. 

It's true that some prisoners sleep a lot. Some are heavily medicated because medication is the cheapest and easiest way to deal with mental health and behavior problems. I know many prisoners who take medications at night that knock them out by 8PM. But I know many, many more who don't get enough sleep. 

When I was in the county jail, awaiting either a trial or a plea offer, I was astonished at how difficult it is to get decent sleep in jail. Lights were turned out at 9PM, but emergency lights stayed on all night. Some of these lights shined directly in the cell, making it difficult to fall asleep. Some prisoners, too, either stay up late hollering back and forth with each other or banging on their metal toilets while "rapping" out loud. 

If, by some miracle, I was able to fall asleep somewhat early, officers still made rounds all night, jangling their keys loudly. Often, when they would open the pod door, it would wake me. Some officers would shine flashlights directly in the prisoners' eyes and wake them, calling out, "I just wanted to make sure you are alive." It was intentional torture. In fact, the Geneva convention classifies sleep deprivation as torture. 

One officer, in particular, took pleasure in torturing prisoners, including those of us who were in jail as pre-trial detainees. We had not even been convicted of any crime yet. It takes a special kind of sadist to treat us as he did, with sleep deprivation and in other ways. 

Even when all was quiet, no prisoners yelling, no officers jangling keys or waking people up for haircuts at 3AM, no flashlights in my eyes or banging on the bars, I still had my tortured thoughts making sleep difficult. Yeah, the county jail is no place to catch up on sleep.

Now, in prison, sleep is still difficult to come by. Emergency lights still shine in my eyes, officers still jangle keys, and prisoners still shout back and forth hours into the night. Sometimes, prisoners in the segregation cells across from my cell loudly express their anger late into the night. Fortunately, I have earplugs if I need them, and I cover my eyes to dim the lights. 

Some prisoners, though, are not so fortunate. Those on suicide watch are in cells with bright lights on 24/7. I don't know how bright lights that make sleeping difficult are supposed to help those struggling with thoughts of self-harm. Other prisoners are housed in pole barns where officers violate their own rules and use the PA system late into the night, and where lights shine right into the eyes of those on the top bunks. 

I'm sure that for a population who already largely struggles with cognitive issues, good decision making, and anger issues, sleep deprivation doesn't help at all. I don't expect prison to be a summer camp, but I do at least think its leaders ought to make every effort to avoid deliberately causing conditions that reinforce negative outcomes, like cognitive decline. 

All this talk about sleep, though, is making me want to go take a nap. Perhaps I'll try, through all the hollering back and forth, slamming of dominoes, incessant arguing about nothing, and the hundreds of other noises that make sleeping in prison a challenge.