Two-Tiered Justice in Prison Protects Prison Staff While Punishing Prisoners

 I know I'm stating the obvious, but prisons exist as a punishment for law breakers. When people can't or won't abide by society's laws, jail or prison sentences are a likely consequence. Obviously, then, prisons are full of people who don't like to follow the rules. 

What isn't so obvious, though, is that it's not only the prisoners who don't like to follow rules. Prison staff doesn't either. 

I've been rather astonished and frustrated by how commonplace it is in prison for administrators and officers to completely ignore the rules (including laws and prison policies). Meanwhile, prisoners are held accountable, through the use of misconduct tickets and potential sanctions (time in the hole or loss of privileges), for refusing to follow the rules. 

Some prisoners like to file lawsuits against the Department of Corrections for their rule breaking. Often these lawsuits are dismissed because administrators and officers are usually protected by "immunity" claims. There's very little accountability. 

Additionally, prisoners can write grievances and, in fact, are required to file three steps of grievances before we can file lawsuits. These grievances are heard by a coordinator at each prison who, in my fifteen years of experience in prison, nearly always rubber stamps grievances, denying them. Step II grievances are heard by the Warden's office and Step III grievances are heard by administrators in Lansing, both of whom also rubber stamps denials.

When prisoners try to hold prison administrators accountable, even for gross violations of policy, those prisoners are labeled a nuisance. Often, a prison will deal with nuisance prisoners by using "diesel therapy." They'll simply transfer the prisoner to another prison to make it difficult for that prisoner to follow through on grievances. This also (rather effectively) seeks to dissuade grievance writing.

To be transparent, some prisoners do abuse the grievance process and write frivolous grievances, sometimes many of them. But many other prisoners are simply trying to resolve an issue where prison staff violated policy or where prison conditions necessitate the grievance. It doesn't matter, though, how valid a grievance is. The result is almost always the same. Denied! 

I don't know how prisoners are supposed to learn that their consequences have actions and that being held accountable for bad behavior is a good thing when prison staff protect themselves from accountability. 

News reports, of late, have highlighted accusations of a two-tiered justice system, as if it's something new. That's the way the justice system has operated for a very long time. It only matters to the public, though, when someone with power makes the claim that he's being unjustly treated. What about all the powerless people in prison (or those facing prison) who have been, and sometimes continue to be, treated unfairly? 

I don't know how to fix these systemic problems in the justice system. They are deeply entrenched. But, I do know that justice is measured not so much by how the system treats the powerful, but by how it treats the powerless. If we want to be a country known for its just treatment of citizens (and non-citizens), we have to start by making sure those who work in the justice system are held accountable to the same standard as those it holds in punishment.

Interrupting Chaos -- Turning Disappointment into Opportunity

Four years ago, we were at the beginning of the worst part of the Covid-19 pandemic. Our lives were terribly disrupted, including those of us in prison. But the interruptions mostly affected the normal activities of our daily lives. For others, though, some of the most important events of their lives were interrupted or cancelled. 

Some people's planned weddings were interrupted, funerals had to be changed or cancelled, and graduations had to be cancelled. Students only graduate from high school once, and from college most only graduate once. My own college graduation ceremony was postponed by two years!

But the high school graduating class of 2020, the same year as my college graduation, had their ceremonies cancelled, and they didn't get a "make-up" when the restrictions lifted. They simply missed out on one of the most important events of their young lives. 

That same graduating class graduated from college this year, and many of their ceremonies were this past weekend. And again, many of their ceremonies were either cancelled or interrupted, but this time by protestors. 

I can't imagine the incredible disappointment to miss out on a high school graduation, and then four years later to have one's college graduation ceremony overshadowed (at best) by protests. It's incredibly unfair. 

I'm sure this graduating class is resilient and will find a way to turn these disappointments into opportunities. In fact, they deserve an extra "hurrah!" from us for their tenacity! I know my voice isn't very loud in this context, but let me just say, I'm SUPER proud of these students who have pushed through hardship to study hard and to finish well. 

CONGRATULATIONS!

As far as the protesters go, don't get me wrong. I'm a rigorous supporter of free speech. I believe that people have a right to say things that others may even find repulsive. But they don't have a right to take the attention from a very important day to do it (let alone to do so violently or destructively). There's a proper time, a proper place, and a proper way to stand up for your beliefs. 

I hope this graduating class is passionate for justice, and I hope they are quick to raise their voices for the powerless. But I also hope that, through the experience of their own disappointments, they learn that they can fight for justice for one without causing injustice for another. 

It'll be exciting in the coming years to see how these young people change the world for the better. I have a feeling they, more than any others in recent years, are best positioned to take a balanced and compassionate approach to fighting for justice and to bringing calm to the world's chaos, wherever their lives lead them. 

Congratulations, graduating class of 2024! Go, and change the world! 

It's Hard to Hate Up Close, so Move In

 A Muslim, a Christian, and a Jew sit at a table together...

No, that's not the start of a politically incorrect joke. It's actually what I observed this morning when I looked out my cell door. Two men I often hang out with (the Christian and Jew) were sitting at a table talking with a Muslim man in my housing unit. 

With all the chaos and hate in the world, you'd think it'd be unusual, and perhaps surprising, to see people of three different faiths sitting around a table talking. But it's not unusual in prison. 

Yes, we still tend to gravitate towards people who are mostly like us, people of the same color, ethnicity, faith, and even sexual orientation and gender identity. But in a total institution like a prison, we also tend to more easily find commonality with people who are very different from us in many ways. 

We share common experiences specific to prison, and perhaps most importantly, we have suffered in similar ways. Many of us have experienced injustice in the courts, and we've seen corruption and experienced injustice in the prison system. There's nothing like common suffering to unite people. 

Yes, we're very aware that our suffering began with choices of our own making. We know we are the ones who blew up our lives (and often the lives of others). That's part of our suffering. But we also implicitly know the justice system is supposed to be a fair, and that those who enforce the law are supposed to follow it. We now know that's often not how things work. 

We know that prison is not supposed to be "fun," but it ought to be fair and just. We know we are supposed to take accountability for our criminal behaviors and their consequences, and many of us do. Yet, we see prosecutors violate the law and hide behind "prosecutorial immunity." Prison officials do the same thing. How is it supposed to encourage pro-social behavior among prisoners when those who hold us accountable use the law to avoid accountability for themselves? 

So, we find ourselves commiserating with people who are very different from us in many ways. And we find commonality in our shared experiences. 

We also have to live among each other. Perhaps this is a lesson the world could learn from those of us in prison. We can't choose who we live among, but if those in society would choose to get to know those who are different from them, they'd hate a little less. As researcher and psychologist Brene Brown says in one of her books, "It's hard to hate up close. Move in." 

We tend to fear what we don't know. That's probably why so many in society fear people convicted of crimes. But if you'd get to know us, you'd find we're not really that different from you. You might discover the same about the Muslim, Jew, Christian or "other" that you fear. 

So, go find an empty table, and invite others who are different from you to have a seat. Or better yet, go find a table full of "others" and ask if you can have a seat. You might just learn something, and you might also make a new friend among those you least expected.