Hoping to be a 76er. It's Not Basketball--it's a Michigan Parole Code

 This past week, another prisoner pulled me aside. "I saw the parole board this morning," he told me quietly. A lot of prisoners like to keep their parole hearing and status "under wraps." They feel like it's necessary because they've heard stories about other jealous prisoners picking fights to make the prisoner lose their parole. 

He continued, telling me he saw the same parole board member who had previously given him a 24 month flop. He's a juvenile lifer who got a second chance at life out of prison, but who had squandered that opportunity. He was back on a parole violation, but he'd been "flopped" twice. A "flop" is when the parole board denies parole, usually giving a prisoner 12, 18, or 24 months to correct whatever the parole board's reason is for the flop. Flops used to be routine, though in the last 5 years they are less common. 

Expounding more, the prisoner continued, "Her first question was, 'Why are you still in prison?'" He immediately began to wonder if he'd just mistakenly spent two more years in prison.

It turns out the parole board member remembered that she flopped him before because the type of his violation. He'd assaulted someone, but apparently was never charged with the assault. She wanted him to spend more time thinking about his behavior. Now, she informed him that he should be getting his parole...again. 

When Michigan prisoners are eligible for parole, most receive a regular parole, called a P-61. Every parole, regular or not, comes with stipulations, which can vary widely depending on the prisoner's offense history. Paroles are almost always for a 12 or 24 month term, though 18 months is possible. Parolable lifers always receive a 5 year parole. 

Other parole types include: 
* P-60: A reinstated parole after it had been suspended (for whatever reason).
* P-62: Parole in custody. This usually occurs when a prisoner has a detainer to another state or to a jail term within Michigan.  
* P-67: Re-parole on the same term. I'm not clear on what this parole is used for.
* P-69: Re-parole after violation. This is for prisoners who return to prison on a violation. 
* P-70: Parole to diversion program. This is for prisoners who need extra support (housing, transportation, employment, etc.) upon leaving prison. This program is currently called MPRI (Michigan Prisoner Re-Entry Initiative). 
* P-76: Parole without interview. This is what nearly all prisoners hope to get. We call it getting our parole "under the door." It simply means the prisoner does not need to be interviewed by the parole board, usually because their prison record speaks enough for itself. 
* D-42: Waiting for a psychological evaluation. This is for prisoners who have taken psych meds for the majority of their prison term. This helps the department cover their rear ends if someone leaves and harms another person because of an untreated mental illness. 
* D-47: Parole pending investigation. This is for prisoners who need more investigation into what resources and additional help they may need after parole, usually centered around mental health help or housing. 

Unfortunately, when prisoners receive a D-42 or D-47, they are usually given a "non-fixed date." This means they don't know when they'll leave prison. It could be, and often is, up to a year after their parole eligibility date. 

I'm assuming the former juvenile lifer who spoke to me will get a P-69 parole. Whatever it is, though, let's hope he makes this opportunity count!

Happy Deadbeat Dad Day in Prison

 This morning after breakfast, I returned to the housing unit and checked my email as I often do. An email from my girlfriend wishing me a Happy Father's Day reminded me what day it is. I was aware that the day was approaching, but I often try to forget the day because it's it's just a painful reminder of my worst failures in life. 

As I stood up from checking my email, I realized that nobody was standing in the phone line. Yes, it was six-thirty in the morning, but on Mother's Day a dozen people would already be waiting in line to call their moms. 

Someone walked past me and said, "Happy Father's Day, Bryan!" I thanked him (trying to be gracious), and wished him the same. A young man on the phone asked me, "Is today Father's Day?" It's sad, but there are several reasons why Father's Day isn't normally a happy or significant day for us in prison. 

The vast majority of prisoners either do not know who their fathers are or had no meaningful relationship with him. A few of us were fortunate to have good dads (thanks, Dad!), but like me, many have lost theirs while in prison. Either way, we're burdened with a sadness over what we've lost or over what we never had. An even smaller group of men in prison are very close to their dads, yet prison dampens that relationship. 

The other stark reality is that most of us men in prison were not very good dads. In fact, I'd argue that none of us were, since we were separated from our families by our selfish choices. Obviously, there are some exceptions, but they are few and far between. 

When someone wishes me a Happy Father's Day, I know they mean well. I know they are acknowledging that I have children, but I don't feel like much of a dad. Instead, I feel like a fraud. Prison has a way of waking us up to what's important in life, and nothing I have done or ever will do will compare to being a dad. It was my greatest joy in life. I only wish I had been the kind of dad I had always dreamt of being. 

Every dad in prison is in some way, a deadbeat dad. Some are fathers as best they can be from prison, but to be a good dad, you've gotta be emotionally and physically present in your children's lives. I could have, and should have, done much, much better. 

Frankly, I'd like a do over, a mulligan. But it doesn't work like that. I don't get to pick up the ball and try again. The damage is done. The bell can't be un-rung. I'll have to carry around for the rest of my life the knowledge that I failed as a father. The only thing I can do is pray for forgiveness and healing--something I pray for nearly every day. 

It's not much of a consolation, because nobody can replace my own children in my heart, but I've been pretty fortunate to be able to be a father figure to a few young men in prison. It's nothing I've sought, and I feel reluctant even stepping into this role. Yet, I count it a privilege any time I've been able to give fatherly advice to a young prisoner who had no father to guide him. 

If at this point in my life I have any wisdom to share with young prisoners, it's only wisdom that has come at a tragically steep cost. But nothing compares to the price I'd pay for a second chance to be the kind of father my children (and every child) really deserved.

The Anxiety-Filled Journey Towards Getting a Parole in Michigan

Last week I came back to my cell after being outside for a while, and some unknown papers were sitting on my bed. I live in a very small 6' x 9' cell, and I'm fairly neat, so I immediately notice things that are out of place. I was curious at first, but it looked official, so my mind started racing.

After unlocking the old high school spinner style lock on my cell door, I grabbed the papers to see what they were. My heart joined my mind and began racing because the papers were my first official step towards a parole. 

Every Michigan prisoner who has an out date goes through a process that starts around 10 months before their first parole eligibility date. 

First, and this is the step I did last week, each prisoners' unit "counselor" (a misnomer because they actually do very little counseling) gives the prisoner a packet of papers to update. This packet is called a "Parole Eligibility Report," or PER for short. I, and other prisoners, must fill out primarily three pieces of information: first and second choices for housing upon parole, planned employment information, and a list of classes or other programs we have voluntarily taken in prison. Additionally, we must verify that the rest of the information listed is correct. 

I had a few small corrections to the listed information, and I provided the required information. The counselor informed me that I was well prepared, and he seemed positive about my parole chances. I'm fortunate to have family who will house me and give me a job. Many prisoners have to simply list "community placement" for their housing, and finding a job has to wait until after leaving prison. 

The second step in the process occurs about 30 days before a prisoner's parole date. Each prisoner will receive a "30 day notice," noting the prisoner's expected parole date, their parole probability (low, medium, of high) based off of a number of factors, and which parole board member the prisoner is assigned to see. 

The third step is the prisoner's actual parole hearing. This occurs via a video conference between the prisoner and a single parole board member. The prisoner is interviewed, though often the decision on a parole (or not) is already made. The interview is primarily a way for the parole board member to confirm their plan. It's up to the prisoner to not talk themselves out of a parole. Sometimes, the prisoner actually talks himself into one, if the member had planned on voting against the parole. Either way, the prisoner doesn't know the pending decision. Sometimes the parole board member will inform the interviewee what their vote will be. 

After the interview, the parole board member votes on the parole and send their report to two other parole board members. These members almost always follow the recommendation of the interviewing member. 

Finally, within as few as a couple of days and as many as two months later, the prisoner is informed about his parole decision. It's a nail-biting time for most prisoners who are unbearably anxious to know the decision. 

Occasionally, a few fortunate prisoners receive a parole "under the door." This is a parole decision without an interview. Either way, receiving a parole always comes with an asterisk. I know of several prisoners who have lost their parole because of bad behavior. It's up to the prisoner to avoid getting into trouble after their decision. 

My next post will focus on different types of parole and some of the programs Michigan offers its paroling prisoners.  

Tracking the Trends--Prison Chaos Worsens During Holidays

I've noticed a somewhat strange trend since I've been in prison, over sixteen years at this point. The energy among the prison population ebbs and flows between calm and chaotic. In a closed system like prison, which is a total institution, emotions are infectious, spreading quickly among prisoners like a virus. 

There's certainly a pattern to this flow. Holidays, no matter which ones, generally heighten anxieties, probably due both to the stress of isolation and separation from our families and the increase of substance abuse during these times. These heightened negative energies often lead to greater violence, fights among prisoners, arguments with corrections officers, and even suicide attempts (like the man who hung himself on Monday, but survived after being revived). 

I knew this past holiday weekend (Memorial Day) was going to be a chaotic one when the administration began making extra space in the "hole" (administrative segregation) to accommodate extra prisoners. They weren't wrong either. These things are predictive. 

All weekend, a steady flow of prisoners were brought to the hole. Some for fights, some for stealing, and some for other reasons, like substance abuse. Two of the loudest prisoners in the hole were in cells directly across from my cell. Their apparent goal was to cause as much frustration and chaos during every count time, when it's usually somewhat quiet, and after lockdown at night. They definitely accomplished their goal. 

When these prisoners would begin their "look at me!" routine of dancing, singing, and hollering from their cells, other prisoners would shout at them to "SHUT THE F**K UP!" while others joined in the frenzied madness with animal sounds and shrieking. Corrections officers would occasionally threaten them with tickets for creating a disturbance, but that did nothing to stop these prisoners. They were empty threats, so chaos persisted. 

The one saving grace is that the weather was somewhat nice out all weekend. We who needed a break from the chaos could at least go outside during the times yard was open. We could get fresh air, sunshine, and a break from the incessant noise. There's noise outside, too, but there aren't walls to cause the sound to echo and amplify. 

Now that the holiday is over, the frenzied energy has died down a bit. One of the loud prisoners was released from the hole and, mercifully, put in a different housing unit. Based on his behavior, I'm sure he'll be back in the hole soon, though. 

It's hard to be a calm and calming presence in prison when everything around you is chaotic and neurotic. But I try. It's the only thing I can do. And during the breaks from the chaos, I thank God for small blessings. 

It's All Mixed Up! Unbelievable Prison Priorities

 The other day in the prison chow hall, I got my tray and drink and turned around to make sure my buddy who'd walked to chow with me was still right behind me. It's pretty routine for people in prison to go to chow with a buddy, though we have to sit where we're told to sit. There's a seating order, so we often try to adjust where we are in the line so we can sit together. It's not really a big deal to me, but it doesn't take much effort to try. 

So, I paused for less than 5 seconds to let my buddy catch up. That pause prompted an officer to yell at me, "Let's go! Keep it moving!" Despite the fact that prison officials are never in a hurry to do things like open the yard, or clear count, or fix broken phones or email kiosks, or answer kites from prisoners...getting seated in the chow hall is apparently urgent. 

I was already in the process of turning to go to my seat when I got yelled at. But I found it laughable that as I headed to my seat, an officer in training shook her head and said out loud, "Unbelievable!" It literally made me laugh and respond (also out loud), "Yeah! Unbelievable that someone paused for five seconds! What a tragedy!"

I don't really fault the trainee for having her priorities mixed up. It's how she was trained. One of the most important things they learn first is to yell at prisoners in the chow hall to take off their hats (while wearing hats of their own). Never mind the phones that are controlled by gangs that they do nothing about. Or the prison drug dealers they know about but do nothing to stop. 

Never mind the broken walkways that routinely trip up elderly prisoners with walkers or canes, or the fact that the medical staff refuse to treat prisoners who are literally dying from medical malpractice. Never mind the fact that prisoners with porter jobs don't do their jobs and the showers don't get cleaned for days on end. Nope. What's MOST important is that we prisoners take our hats off and head to our seats without 5 seconds of interruption in the chow hall. 

I'm not suggesting that we prisoners always have our priorities straight either. We certainly don't. We often tend to catastrophize minor things and to focus on the wrong things. But aren't prison staff supposed to model pro-social behaviors? It's hard to take seriously advice about our own priorities when we see such imbalance in what prison staff feel is important. 

I think all new prison officers should have to start their careers in higher security levels. There, the officers are usually more focused on real reasons for security, not yelling at people when they pause for five seconds while heading to their seats. It's just boggles my mind how petty officers can be in prison sometimes. Only one word comes to mind: 

Unbelievable!

Was it Right to Reduce the Menendez Brothers' Sentences?

Earlier this week, Erik and Lyle Menendez were resentenced in California for murdering their parents 36 years ago. The brothers were originally sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Their sentences have now been reduced to 50 years to life, making them eligible for parole after calculating in California's good time credits. 

I feel a bit conflicted about this resentencing, for a variety of reasons. As a prisoner who sees the insanity of locking people up for decades when they are no longer a danger to society, I generally oppose automatic life without parole sentences. In some cases, a life sentence is the only way to keep the public safe from someone who is either committed to their criminal thinking or from someone who is genuinely dangerous because of untreatable mental illness. 

However, some cases are truly horrific, and from a human standpoint, a life sentence makes sense in some of these cases. The problem is that I have met and become friends with some people in prison who have committed horrific crimes. I cannot imagine the people I know today doing what they did in the past. They've truly repented of their thinking and behavior and have sought to make amends in every way they can. 

For some people, that is not enough. The crimes some prisoners have committed are horrific enough to justify, in society's minds, decades and sometimes an entire lifetime in prison. It's difficult to argue that this is injustice given the crimes these people have committed. That's where I stand with the resentencing of the Menendez brothers. 

Perhaps the abuse they claim they suffered at the hands of their father actually happened. Nobody can know for sure. But even if it is true, nothing explains why they felt justified to murder their mother. And given their ages at the times, why didn't they just leave their home and turn their father in? 

I don't know the Menendez brothers, if they are safe, repentant, or transformed. Perhaps. A parolable sentence allows them to be evaluated to determine if they are a continued danger to society. If they are, maybe they can do more as free men to make amends for taking their parents' lives. I'm just not convinced that they are even sorry for what they did. 

These are the complex issues that as a society we have to consider when evaluating the justice or injustice of sentences. They aren't easy issues, especially when we're talking about murder and other crimes that cause irreparable harm. What is the best way for justice to be served, for society to be kept safe, and for redemption stories to be possible? 

In the end, I think it's okay to feel personally conflicted between our need for "revenge" or punishment and our desire for justice to include the opportunity for redemption. Our solutions ought to reflect the seriousness of how crime destroys lives while also affording people who made horrible choices the opportunity to redeem themselves and become a part of helping to prevent others from going down the same terrible road. 

When the Punishment of Prison Itself is Not Enough

 I had an interesting discussion recently with a prison staff member about the views of the general public on prisoners and on how prisons operate. 

The discussion started around the fact that air conditioning is difficult to find in prison. It exists in very select places, like counselors' offices, medical areas, control centers, in a few select school building rooms, and some of the hospice units where terminally ill elderly prisoners go to die. 

From a prisoner's perspective, of course it would be nice to have air conditioning in the hottest parts of the year. It can be nearly unbearably hot in the housing units, and especially in the chow hall, when temperatures hit the 90s and 100s. It'd also be nice to still have heat on when the temperatures drop into the 30s like it has several nights over the last few weeks. Yet, the heat has been turned off in the housing units for several weeks now. 

I get it. We're prisoners, and comfort isn't supposed to be something you think of when you think of prisons. Frankly, I don't want prison to be comfortable either. I mean, within reason yeah, but I want to remember how much I hated it. (How could I forget?!)

This staff member I spoke to shared that the general public mostly feels that prisoners don't deserve A/C or the comfort of reasonable heat (or even basic medical care, nutritious food, and basic dignity). This reflects the general belief that prison itself is not punishment enough. Our suffering must be multiplied through deprivation of what most people consider "necessities" in life (temperature modulation, medical treatment, and reasonable nutrition among them). 

However, as the staff member pointed out, the public often forgets that people have to work in prison, too. Should the officers, who are required to wear hot uniforms, suffer too? Should other staff members be deprived of a comfort they could easily obtain in other employment? As difficult as it has been for the State of Michigan to hire and retain corrections officers, one would think their comfort on the job should matter. 

Installing and paying for air conditioning in prisons would be expensive. That's true. In a place like Michigan where we might only have 30 days of unbearable heat out of the year, it might not make financial sense to put air conditioning in already notoriously energy inefficient buildings. 

But not installing air conditioning in Michigan prisons because of the unreasonable costs associated with it is far different than dismissing it as unnecessary because prisoners "don't deserve it." Elderly prisoners and those with heat related illnesses (all prisoners for that matter!) don't deserve to have their legitimate medical needs ignored just because they are prisoners. They're human beings first. 

Unless that really doesn't matter, and in that case, let's just be honest as a society about how we view prisoners. Then we can dispense with the question of ethics altogether. Or have we already?

Prisoner Politicians are just as Ineffective as Free Ones

 

The counselors in my prison housing unit just finished passing out and then collecting ballots for our block rep elections. This election occurs every 6 months, whereby we elect two representatives (one minority and one non-minority) to represent our collective interests for the next six months.  I chose not to participate in this election for three reasons.  First, I only knew one of the prisoners on the ballot. The other three listed were names I didn't know, even if I may have known the people by their faces (which aren't shown on the ballot). I'm not going to waste my time voting when I know nothing about the "candidates."  Second, the role of block rep in Michigan's prisons has become a joke. These prisoners do NOT represent the population; instead, they mostly choose to run for some perceived personal benefit they aim to gain.  Third, I don't trust the election process. The last election the same prisoners were elected to serve a second term despite a general consensus in the housing unit that they were useless. It appeared like the staff put in who they wanted, not who we attempted to elect. (I don't generally distrust our nation's voting system, but it has much greater checks and controls than is found in prison.) Originally, the block rep system was designed to give prisoners a collective voice to prison administrators on issues that affect the population at large. Prison policies prohibit collective petitions or protests, so this block rep system was implemented as a way for prisoners to voice their concerns.  I've served as a block rep two or three times over my sixteen plus years in prison. Each time, my experience was that the prison administration does not take any of our concerns seriously, they do what they are going to do anyway, and the answer to every request is "no." It's an impotent and ineffective process. Additionally, any block rep who becomes too outspoken or who employs quoting policy too much are usually transferred to other facilities so they aren't a "problem" any longer.  Furthermore, when I served as block rep, I experienced a lot of unreasonable expectations from other prisoners, expecting me to solve their personal problems and complaints and to magically convince prison administrators to say yes to requests. It was an exercise in frustration and futility.  Our current outgoing block reps have been more interested in getting their extra food as taste testers in the kitchen and other perks they may get. For example, during holiday events, winners of tournaments or games often receive some goodies as a prize (candy, etc.). Block reps also often receive some for running the events. As food taste testers, the block reps are supposed to give honest feedback about the food quality and taste. Instead, they protect their extra portions by inflating the quality and taste of the food.  Democratic politics is supposed to be representative OF the people and FOR the people, but as we see in our nation today, it often devolves into self-serving behavior. It's really no different in prison. I guess that's just a common human flaw...put one's own interests above others, even those who elected you to serve.  I didn't vote in today's block rep elections, so I'll have no reason to complain and no expectations that those elected will do their jobs.

Reforming Character is Necessary to Reduce Crime

 I've been reading Chuck Colson's "How Now Shall We Live" as part of a Bible study over the last year or so. The late Colson was famously part of the Nixon Watergate scandal, Nixon's attorney who was convicted of obstructing justice. After he spent time in prison, Colson went on to found Prison Fellowship, a prison ministry aimed at helping prisoners reform their hearts and lives through application of Biblical truths. 

Colson was also an astute philosophy and theology student. He used his wide knowledge to teach others simple ways to discover the root causes of their criminal thinking and behaviors. I'm grateful that despite his criminal and unethical behavior that led him to prison, he refused to let his past dictate his future. I'm sure some people discredited him because of his involvement in Watergate, or because he was a Republican, or because he was a Christian. It's unfortunate, but some people are unable or unwilling to see someone as other than their worst choices. 

But Colson didn't let others' single-minded judgment stop him from doing the right things. He could have seen himself as a discredited corrupt politician, or as an ultimately unethical lawyer, but instead he dedicated himself to righting his wrongs and helping others do the same. Regardless of any "labels" people might have given him, I respect him for his commitment. 

I also appreciate his insight into human behavior. For example, quoting theologian Michael Novak, Colson noted that society often focuses on trying to understand the causes of crime. Yet, even if we uncover the answer to what causes crime, how would it help us? Can we legislate our way out of it? Create new laws to prevent immoral conduct? No. All we'll discover is how to produce more crime. 

The only way to reduce crime is to focus on producing more character and virtue in people. Instead, our society has focused on moral relativism, excusing immoral and unethical behavior as "personal choice." That is, until those choices trample on others' "rights." 

Our prisons are full of people who don't even understand what virtue is, let alone character or ethics. And I'm not just talking about the prison inmates. 

As a state, Michigan has made remarkable inroads towards supporting prisoners upon their release from prison. Vocational training, vital documents accessibility, housing and transportation support, emergency medical coverage...these all have improved outcomes for those leaving prison. But other important elements are still missing. 

Some prisoners are trained in a trade, but they don't know how to be wise money managers. They've also never been taught how to reduce their impulsivity, including in spending. They've learned how to recognize triggers and use coping mechanisms for their addictions, but they've never been taught that selfishness needs to give way to selflessness, that pride needs to give way to humility, or that self-control is a virtue worthy of pursuit. 

Michigan's prison system spends so much energy on security and control, aiming to reduce bad behavior by taking away opportunities for it. Instead, they ought to be focused on re-forming prisoner's character and rewarding demonstrated change. For those who are willing to be reformed, anyway. And those who aren't willing, well, Colson had some wisdom that tells us where that leads, both for prisoners and society as a whole: 

"If we cannot govern ourselves, then we invite others to govern us. The death of virtue threatens our very liberty as a people." 

There isn't much of a difference between prison and political tyranny. Both are a result of a lack of personal (and collective) virtue. And both lead to a loss of personal and collective freedom.

Power Over Truth in Prison Leads to Injustice

 Michigan's prisons use three classes of misconduct tickets. Class three tickets are considered "minor" tickets and usually come with minor and short-term consequences. This might include loss of privileges (LOP), like use of the phone, Jpay emails, and recreation time for a few days. 

Class two tickets are a little more severe, and they lead to longer-term LOP, perhaps ten or fifteen days. They also earn prisoners "points" on their misconduct history, which may eventually lead to an elevation of security level. 

Class one tickets are considered "major" tickets, and they often lead to administrative segregation (the hole), a greater increase in points, and longer-term consequences, like 30 or more days LOP or top lock. Top lock includes everything LOP does, plus it confines prisoners to their cells or bunks (or the hole) for a period of days. 

This morning, another prisoner told me that he received a class 2 ticket for an incident in the medical area. He is insulin dependent and must go to insulin lines in medical 3 times a day. A few days before, he had an issue with the corrections officer covering medical, and the officer wrote him a ticket as a result. Class 3 tickets are "heard" by a unit officer who assigns the sanction. Class 2 tickets are "heard" by a sergeant, or sometimes a lieutenant. 

Today, the prisoner had a hearing with a lieutenant, where the prisoner pled his case. Apparently, the lieutenant agreed with everything the prisoner had said in his defense, and then told him, "But, I have to side with my officer and find you guilty anyway." Understandably, the guy was very unhappy. 

I know from experience that many times other prisoners do not know how to handle themselves or communicate properly with authority figures, so I am keeping that in mind. But, I also have seen too many times to count when prison staff treat prisoners unjustly and side with their officers, even when knowing the officer is wrong. It's a "code" they often abide by. Truth, evidence, and right don't matter in these situations. Only power matters. 

And power trumps justice every time. 

I know that it's ironic for a Michigan prisoner to be speaking about justice. After all, I'm in prison because of my own unjust actions. But as my mom used to say all the time when I was growing up, "Two wrongs don't make a right." 

A system that is designed to punish injustice ought to at least try to model justice. At times it does, but more often it models that "might makes right," a fallacy that got many of us in trouble in the first place. That's not how you teach wrongdoers to reform their faulty thinking. 

This prisoner was given only 2 days LOP for his supposed infraction, which itself illustrates that the lieutenant didn't think the prisoner was actually guilty. It's too bad that our justice system and prison system have adopted the philosophy of convict first and ask questions later (maybe). I know our Founding Fathers would be appalled at such injustice.

Time Outs for Toddlers Can Work for Adult Prisoners, Too

 I had to put myself in time out earlier this week. I know, a grown man shouldn't need time outs, but I still do from time to time. 

This past week, I was playing a game of Scrabble at a table on base in our housing unit. The unit was particularly loud and crowded at the time, but I can usually tune out the noise, for the most part. But, a guy decided to stand literally inches from my shoulder, and after time in higher security levels, I'm a little touchy about people standing so close to me. 

I somewhat politely asked him to move away and give me some space, which he did. However, within seconds, he'd moved right back into invading my space. Now, I've worked hard for many years to change my communication style from passive aggressive to assertive. However, my irritation level rose sharply, and I resorted to being passive aggressive again. 

After some choice words said loudly enough for him to hear but without directing them TO him, I switched seats at the table. Shaking my head at the blatant disrespect at this level 1 minimum security prison, I got back to the game. 

Within a minute or two, another guy came and stood right to the left of me. He began hollering at a guy in the hole behind me, right over my head. It was difficult for me to even think with how loud the two of them were being. Again, I resorted to passive aggressive comments. 

Recognizing that I was highly irritated, and that I'd resorted to communicating in a way that I've worked hard for years to avoid, I knew it was time for me to utilize a healthy coping strategy. I put myself in time out. I had to avoid resorting to aggressive communication, which is likely to lead to worse problems.

I told my gaming partner that I needed to go, so we packed up the game, and I went to my cell. 

Over the years, I've learned to recognize situations and reactions like this, and to employ healthy coping strategies to avoid conflict and violence. It's helped me to go 16 years misconduct-free (minus one minor misconduct for cutting someone's hair in the bathroom). These are lessons I plan to take with me when I leave prison. 

I've also worked for several years to teach other prisoners how to identify trigger situations and emotions and to pre-plan coping strategies to manage their emotions and reactions better. Too many prisoners, and if we're frank about it free people too, are impulsive and let their emotions dictate their behaviors. 

The truth is, we can't always depend on other people to be respectful, to understand and read situations accurately, or to manage their own emotions well. It's critical, especially for a class of people who are prone to being impulsive, to increase our emotional regulation skills. 

I'd rather take myself to my room and self-impose a short time out than to end up in the hole in an extended time out, with all the consequences that come with it. It just makes sense to me.

Are Prisoners with Long Sentences Forever Dangerous?

 Today, while I waited in the phone line, the guy behind me struck up a conversation with me. He told me he'd been to prison three times, all for short sentences. He then asked me if this was my first bit (prison sentence). I responded, "Yes, and my only one." As we talked, I mentioned that I'd been in prison for sixteen years so far. His face registered shock as he grabbed his head. "Oh my god!" he replied. "You must be dangerous!" 

After I sort of laughed inside, I told him I wasn't dangerous, and I shared about spending my prison sentence working on my thinking and behaviors. He didn't seem convinced that I wasn't dangerous, and as my turn came up next for the phone, the man behind him revealed he'd spent 25 years in federal prison. The young man about fainted. 

Lengthy prison sentences are increasingly common, especially in Michigan. However, much research has shown that long sentences do not make communities safer. Most prisoners serving long sentences have aged out of crime or have completely changed their lives. These long sentences are a waste of state resources. 

In a recent edition of SADO's Criminal Defense Newsletter (Dec. 2024-Jan. 2025, Vol. 48, Iss. 3 & 4), an article highlighted the length of sentences for prisoners in Michigan. It was not surprising to me, but perhaps astonishing for some, that Michigan has the highest percentage in any state of prisoners serving more than 10 years in prison. 

Nationally, 17% of prisoners have served more than 10 years in prison. In Michigan, 32% of prisoners have, and 41% will have to. That's an abysmal statistic! 

These sentences are usually, though not always, a result of serious crimes. But long sentences, especially without good time like Michigan lacks, are not always the most just solution to crime. In fact, Michigan's lengthy sentences disproportionately affect women and people of color. 

In the last legislative session, there was a push for Second Look Sentencing, which would allow judges to reduce sentences for prisoners who had met certain behavior and time served criteria. This legislation had a lot of support in the Michigan legislature, but legislative leadership refused to bring it up for votes. Now, we have new leaders who still refuse to entertain these reforms, despite the staffing problems with Michigan's prisons. For some reason, this state is entrenched in the belief that the prison industry must defend and keep its old ways of thinking, at all costs. 

My guess is that it's reactionary citizens and legislators who, like the guy in the phone line, have misconceptions about prisoners serving long sentences. In my experience, it is these prisoners who have become, by and large, the system's model prisoners. Perhaps instead of vilifying us, the system (and society) could learn something from us who have had to confront our demons and have used the harms we've caused as motivators to change. 

I don't want people to fear me, whether it's in prison or out. Instead, I'd rather be seen as a part of society's solutions, not as an intractable part of its problems. That's a big part of what's motivated me to change. Perhaps the legislature could learn a little lesson from my experience and become a part of the solution, too.

How I've Learned to be a Person of Influence in Prison

One of the most important lessons I've learned in prison is the importance of community. I've written about this before, but we don't live in isolation. Our behavior affects others in ways we can't even anticipate or imagine. But, we're also not alone. We don't have to struggle alone, don't have to be so self-reliant that we avoid asking for help. 

Throughout my years in prison, I've cultivated relationships with men who I trust to help me identify blind spots, guide me when I'm confused about what to do, and generally to encourage me to grow spiritually, emotionally, and psychologically. There aren't a lot of men I trust like that, but there are some remarkable men of God in prison! It's encouraging to know that God's redemptive work even extends to prison. 

The problem is that most of my male support network is in prison, and I'm leaving soon. Prison and parole rules prohibit communication between prisoners in different prisons and between parolees and prisoners. Since I have been isolated in prison for these years, I haven't developed many spiritual mentors outside of prison. But, I'm confident that God will work that out. I just have to stay committed to cultivating these kind of important relationships.

I'm profoundly grateful for the positive influence my mom, girlfriend, one brother, and a couple of friends have had on my life over the years. Yes, I've had to put in the work to change my thinking and to become consistently driven by my values, but that work is so much easier when you have positive reinforcement. 

It would have been easy for the people I love and who love me to give up on me when I made some of the worst choices I've ever made. Many did give up on me. But those who chose to stick with me are a large reason for the man I am today. This is one reason why the lessons I've learned about the importance of community have had such a positive impact on my life. 

When I was in the Calvin Prison Initiative and attended the Celebration Fellowship church at a prison in Ionia, Michigan, my thinking and the choices I made were literally influenced by these communities. And I continue to be influenced by the "community" of loved ones who speak truth and encouragement into my life. 

Soon, I'll be joining other communities. I'm not sure where I'll fit in, but I'm confident that I'll find my place. I'm confident in this because I already feel like I have a place in the hearts of my loved ones. And love is not a limited resource. It's a multiplying factor. 

I hope that I can be the kind of person who loves others through their worst choices. It's far easier to judge from a distance. The more difficult choice is to choose to take the risk of investing in someone who's already proven that they can make stupid choices. That's another valuable lesson I've learned and am still learning from those who love me--the difficult things are the things worth doing. And loving people (me, for example) through their worst has GOT to be one of the most difficult things those who love me have ever done. 

Every choice we make, but especially the kind of people we chose to be, influences others in ways we may never know. I hope that the changes I've made over the years yield a good return for those I love who have invested so much. Thank you to all those who chose to do the hard things.

Unadulterated Truth is Necessary for Healing

It's that time of year when the weather starts to turn warm, and prisoners shed their coats and hats to walk around in shorts and t-shirts. The temperature isn't yet 60F, but that doesn't stop anyone.  The sun is shining, the yard is open...it's a good time to be outside. Yet, some prisoners aren't outside. They're inside playing cards or dominoes. And some are meeting in the school building for an addiction recovery group called Breaking the Chains.  I facilitate this addiction recovery group, and on sunny, warmer days, it's a little tough to keep my heart in the group. I'd rather be outside enjoying the sun. But then I remind myself that the forty-some other prisoners could be out enjoying the sun, too. These guys are committed to the process, and that helps me keep my heart in it, too.  Two of the most important elements of Breaking the Chains is our emphasis on getting to the root of each person's addiction, and making a commitment to deal only with the truth. Simply stopping an addiction almost always results in the problem showing up somewhere else in a person's life. Drinking and drugging become sex and gambling addictions, for example. Unless, of course, the pain, trauma, or other root of addiction is confronted and healed. This process requires a radical commitment to truth, too. Telling just some of the truth can start someone on the path of recovery, but true recovery, the kind that helps you turn your life around and thrive, requires cold, hard truth.  That's the funny thing about healing of any kind, including healing from addiction--only the truth can set you free. Justifications, blame-shifting, and minimizing only lead to more bondage. These things keep you stuck in the pain instead of freeing you to leave the past in the past in the past and discover your purpose and reach your potential.  I know some of the guys in group are there because they want to impress the parole board. That's okay. I hope they pick up something along the way that helps them find their path to freedom. The rest, though, they're making the hard choices. They are doing the work of letting go of old thinking and habit patterns and forging a new path free from the shackles of the past.  It's incredibly powerful and encouraging to hear these guys incorporating what we talk about in class into their everyday lives. It's also empowering to hear them tell stories of sharing their insights with their families. It's humbling to know that I'm a part of changing family trauma patterns in any way. It helps, just a little bit, heal the pain I carry from the trauma I've caused.  Now, THAT'S the truth!

 

Tiny House Living -- Prison Edition

 The last several years, I've been fascinated by the tiny house craze. I don't know if it's still going on because we no longer get the HGTV cable channel; however, it was really interesting to me to see how much creativity people could fit into a little space. 

You'd think that I'd hate the idea of a tiny house, given the tiny cells I've lived in for 16 years. But I don't hate the idea. I'm not sure it's practical for my life, but I'm sort of drawn to it anyway. 

My current cell is 6' x 9'. (A 250 square foot tiny home sounds like a mansion to me!) My cell isn't a lot of space, especially when you consider that there's a bed, a desk and chair, a locker, a sink, and a toilet all taking up floor space. I can literally stretch my hands out and touch the side walls at the same time. There's about 20 inches of space between my bed and my desk. If I had the flu (which thankfully I haven't!), I wouldn't even have to get out of bed to throw up. I could just lean over the toilet next to my head. Yeah. It's not ideal, but it's what I'm working with. You just learn to make the best of things.

In prison, I've learned to be more adaptable. I've had bunkies that were difficult to get along with. But what are my choices? I learned to adapt and get along, even if just enough. I've also been in cube settings with eight bunks in a cubical setting. It's crowded and loud, and some guys never clean. So, I'm grateful to have a single-man cell where I can be the only one responsible for keeping things neat and in order. It's not private, but it's my "own" space. 

I like things neat and in order, and with such a small space, I have had to learn to be creative. It requires following rules for how my cell is supposed to look, while also figuring out how to store stuff out of the way, but still easily accessible. It's sort of like a concrete tiny house, minus the kitchenette. 

Perhaps I love tiny houses because I like to see how creative people are with their spaces. I also want to live simply. Prison has taught me to be far less materialistic, to find many uses for everything I own, and to be comfortable with less. Americans often want big cars, big houses, and big toys. But they also have big bills to go with it all. I don't need big bills after I leave prison. 

I'll be leaving prison in just over a year from now, and I'm looking forward to living simply. I don't need many things to feel content. I've come to value relationships and experiences more than things. I've missed relationships and experiences the most during my time in prison, not all the stuff that used to clutter my life. 

I may not live in a tiny house after prison, but I certainly hope to adopt the concept of simple living anyway. Wherever I live, it'll be better than a 6' x 9' concrete cell.

Who Serves the Time When the State Violates a Law?

 In much of the last sixteen years I've spent in prison so far, I've spent time in the law library nearly every week. I've worked on researching issues related to my own case, learned how to write briefs and motions (filing many of both in my own case), researched issues for other prisoners, and stayed abreast of issues relevant to me. I even recently wrote a motion and amicus curiae brief to the Michigan Supreme Court (which they accepted) for an issue important to me. 

Incidentally, regardless of what happens with that issue, I was thrilled to have the Michigan Supreme Court accept my brief. I've never heard of another prisoner successfully writing an amicus curiae brief, though I'm quite sure it's been done before. The Court will hear this issue next month, and I'm anxious to hear of the outcome, and especially how my arguments prevailed or persuaded the Court (if at all). 

As I continue to research important issues, including state legislation, I sometimes run across interesting legal facts. Such was the case with a recent trip to the law library. 

I was intrigued to note that Michigan has a law punishing people for "holding an individual in debt bondage" (MCL 750.462c). Violations of this prohibition are subject to up to ten years in prison. At first, this statute didn't strike me as odd in any way. It was part of a broader set of statutes prohibiting things like involuntary servitude, forced prostitution, and the like. But then something struck me. 

Michigan imprisons people for failing to pay child support. That's debt bondage, by definition. Michigan also violates probationers and parolees for failing to pay court costs and fines, often returning them to jail or prison. That's debt bondage. 

I'm not suggesting that Michigan should do away with punishing debt bondage. We need a law like this to protect the vulnerable, especially immigrants who are often forced into slavery to pay for their trip to America. What I am suggesting is that Michigan ought to consider the duplicity of this law. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. 

Debt bondage has been vilified since Charles Dickens wrote some of his famous novels on the subject. It ought to be illegal, but Dicken's novels were critical of the State's involvement in debt bondage -- something still happening more than 150 years later. The irony is that debts can't be paid off when someone is in prison making an average of less than $20 per month. 

I wonder why nobody (that I know of) has ever challenged incarceration for unpaid debt, like child support or court fees, using this statute? Surely the courts would see the duplicity in the State punishing citizens for the very thing they do. Just something interesting to think about.

Reconnecting in Prison: Forging Lasting Friendships Behind Bars

 The nature of prison is very transient. Prisoners can be uprooted at any time and sent to a different prison. And what further complicates things is that prison rules prohibit prisoners from communicating with each other from prison to prison (even through intermediaries). 

Yet, the shared experiences of prisoners means we sometimes form deep friendships with each other. I've formed some of the closest friendships I've ever had with other prisoners. And then one day, we're yanked apart by transfers, and our close friendship suffers. 

When I was in the Calvin Prison Initiative (Calvin University), earning a bachelor's degree in prison, I spent 6 years at MTU, a prison in Ionia, Michigan. I spent these years with guys who not only shared my same prison experiences, but they also sometimes shared similar backgrounds, and we attended the same college together. We built very strong bonds, forged by common experiences and strengthened through mutual pride in our university. 

When I was transferred to SMT in Jackson, Michigan, I lost contact with my friends. I was thrust into an environment where I knew very few people, and I had no close friends. It was definitely challenging, though it also forced me to form new friendships and connections. Still, none were as close as those I'd formed with my Calvin brothers. 

Then, last week four more Calvin graduates rode into this prison facility. They are in a different housing unit, so we haven't been able to spend much time together; however, it's felt great to have some of my buddies in the same place again! Although we've been unable to communicate for the last 2 1/2 years, it's like we haven't been separated at all. We just picked up where we left off. 

I don't know how long some of these friendships will last. Some are undoubtedly friends for this season, some for a specific reason, and some for life. I know at least a couple of other prisoners who have become brothers for life. 

In a society increasingly marked by disconnection and fleeting relationships, my prison experience reminds me of the importance of lasting friendships. Even though we often come from very different walks of life, our shared experiences are the fertile soil in which connection grows. 

If you've felt disconnected lately, try reaching out to a friend and let them know they are important to you. Healthy, lasting friendships bring a lot of joy and a sense of belonging to life.

Prison Bureaucracy Is Its Own Worst Enemy

 

Max Weber was a German philosopher who wrote a very influential book called "Economy and Society." He insightfully wrote about bureaucracy and its affect on societies and people within those societies.  As someone who has always been critical of the inefficiencies found in the government and in large corporations, I've found Weber's work enlightening, informative, and confirming. But why am I writing about a German philosopher's musings from so long ago?  Prisons are run by bureaucrats, and while government operations are inherently inefficient anyway, I've never seen anything like I've observed in prison over the last 16 years! Weber highlights five primary drawbacks to bureaucracy, and each has a correlation to the prison environment. Let me say, first, that I understand a certain need for consistency, especially in a total institution like prison. Prisoners, officers, staff members, and the public need to know things are consistent in prison.  But they really aren't. That might be the aim of bureaucracy, but the only thing consistent is, well, the inconsistency of operations. That and the illogic of so many decisions made in the prison setting.  Here are Weber's drawbacks to bureaucracy and how they relate to prisons:  1. Dehumanization Bureaucratic approaches to management leads to viewing prisoners as numbers rather than as individuals. It's not just the management approach that leads to this outcome, though. It's also the philosophy of administrators and society who often see prisoners as intractable rejects who will never get right. It's easy to treat people you see like that as less than human.  2. Rigidity Strict prison rules and procedures can lead to inflexibility, making it difficult to address individual needs of prisoners or to adapt to the prison's changing circumstances. A lot of things are common among prisoners, but the prisoners themselves are often very different with differing needs. Prisons are notoriously ill equipped to create customized plans for individuals. Instead, we're often lumped into groups who have very little in common except for a single feature (usually a behavior). Causes of these behaviors are often irrelevant.  3. Goal Displacement Prisons are so focused on maintaining order and following procedures that their goals of rehabilitation or reducing recidivism (if those ARE goals) are ignored or reduced in importance. Prison administrators are notoriously reactionary to situations, punishing an entire prison population for the behavior of a single prisoner or even a small group. And programs that are especially helpful for prisoners are cancelled or not supported because they don't fit the plan laid out by people who have never stepped foot in a prison.  4. Iron Cage Both prisoners and officers or staff can feel trapped in the rigid and impersonal system of prison. There's very little hope that things will get better, so prisoners and staff alike develop learned helplessness. Although things COULD change for the better, they don't because bureaucracy and red tape make change almost impossible. We end up just surrendering to the stupidity instead of beating our heads against the wall while trying to change things.  5. Over Specialization Division of labor in prisons can lead to a narrow focus on specific tasks, potentially neglecting broader goals of rehabilitation and reintegration. "It's not my job" is such a common thought (and expression), and nobody seems to know WHO to pass the buck to. They just know they don't want it. Consequently, simple things become big problems, all because the problem didn't fit neatly into someone's stated responsibilities.  It's incredibly ironic to me that I am incarcerated in a system that wants me to change, but that demonstrates an inability to change itself. Soon, I'll leave the chaotic insanity of prison (and I mean mostly the bureaucratic lunacy), but I'm confident that lawmakers and prison administrators will continue to make stupid decisions divorced from common sense. That'll never change.

Political Posturing Cripples Prison Reform in Michigan

Every election cycle leads to either increased hope or discouragement among Michigan's prison population. Will the new administration or legislature support or oppose prison reforms? Will anything change, or will everything stay the same? 

Michigan's recent election turned the legislative power in Michigan from a Democrat majority to a Republican majority, for example. So many prisoners had hopes that with the Democrats in power, prison reforms would pass. Perhaps Good Time legislation, or other options where we could earn time off our sentences for educational achievements would pass. None of these happened, though. So many promises resulted in dashed hopes. 

The Democrat leadership did not have the political courage necessary to even debate the proposals. Instead, they cowered to populism and political pressures. The House leader even refused to bring bills up for debate. So much for progressive politics. 

Now, the Michigan House is in the control of Republicans. Congressional leaders in the Republican party have expressed disinterest in passing any prison reforms that would undo the Truth in Sentencing law, despite the fact that this law has led to significant increases in average prison sentences in Michigan. Michigan is now the state with the highest average prison sentence in the nation. 

Although Republicans are often thought of as anti-prison reform, they are often utilitarian in their approach to legislation. Will it save State money? If so, it might be considered. That is, if the leadership has the courage to bring it to the floor for debate. 

When Donald Trump was last in office, he had threatened to take away federal funding from Michigan due to some of its prison policies. Now that he's back in office, I wonder if he'll renew that threat? There's nothing like money to motivate change. 

Trump might say he's tough on crime, and some of his policies DO reflect that position, but he's also very pragmatic. He was responsible for some pretty smart reforms in the federal prison system. Like him or not, he's willing to tackle unpopular policy changes if he believes it's good for the country. We'll see what that will mean for prison reforms in Michigan, if it means anything at all. 

It's no secret that Trump is not a fan of our governor. She certainly hasn't had the political courage to enact any necessary reforms in our prison system during her tenure, so she's not popular in prison either. I wouldn't expect that to change much, either, since she's eyeing to possibly replace Trump in four years. 

It's crazy that political maneuvering and individual political ambitions have ANY influence on policy changes, but that's the reality in American politics. The next few years will be interesting to see how the winds of change blow. I hope they lead us to finally see some much needed prison reforms in Michigan. 

Inadequate Prison Staff Leads to Growing Frustrations

One of my neighbors in prison recently told me a little joke he tells himself when he hears about the prison system's staff shortages. 

"Oh, the gym (or whatever) is cancelled again because of inadequate staffing? Is that because there is an inadequate availability of staff, or is it because the staff present are inadequate?"

We have to find ways to amuse ourselves through frustrations like these in prison, or the shortages, red tape, bureaucracy, and apathy will drive us nuts. 

Just this morning, before 7:30 in the morning, I experienced just two examples of brush-offs, dismissals, and passing the buck that are common in prison. The first occurred when I talked to the Captain, who was making a round in our housing unit, about the trouble I had the night before with a video visit. 

After waiting a few minutes past when my video visit was supposed to start, I asked a unit officer to call the visiting room to see if they forgot to check my girlfriend in for our visit. Of course they had, so we lost about 5 minutes (25%) of our visit time. The officer was then apparently told by a higher up that he could not extend our visit to give us the full time, though my girlfriend had to pay for the full 20 minutes still. 

After calmly explaining this to the Captain and simply asking him if he could look into it so it doesn't happen again, he passed the buck. "It's not my shift and I have nothing to do with it," he said. Never mind that he's the highest ranking officer on staff at the time. He can't (more likely didn't want to) do anything about it. Not his problem. 

A few minutes later, I saw my prison counselor (PC) and stopped him to ask a quick question. To be fair, he'd just entered the housing unit, so he probably didn't yet want to be bothered. But rather than simply tell me to see him later, he just said, "Not now!" and slammed the office door in my face. I've never interacted with this counselor before, but I'm not impressed with my first encounter. 

I'm going to go out on a limb here and just agree, the staff present are inadequate. 

Yesterday, another prisoner told me of his ongoing saga with medical staff, too. He recently saw a doctor here who is notorious for cancelling needed medications, ignoring prisoner medical needs, and her rudeness towards prisoners. He'd had a problem with her before when she refused to even let him talk at his appointment. 

When this doctor again wouldn't let him talk at his own medical appointment, he persisted, so she just sat there staring blankly at him and refused to answer any questions or address any of his concerns. Instead, she cancelled his critical pain medication after he left. 

I'm not sure inadequate is even the right word to describe this doctor. Perhaps negligent or deliberately indifferent might be better descriptors. 

The problem is that as prisoners, we have just about no remedies for these encounters. Yes, we have a grievance system, but it's so broken that it's counter productive to write a grievance. Grievances are routinely denied, rubber stamped, and flat-out ignored. And when these remedies aren't employed, prisoners are often transferred as "punishment" for writing grievances. It hardly matters, though, because these prisoners will receive the same apathetic and unjust treatment at other prisons. 

Not all staff in prison are inadequate. Some hold onto their humanity, despite the daily challenges of working with prisoners. Some maintain compassion and empathy and treat us like human beings. It's refreshing to encounter, but it shouldn't be so unusual.