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. 

Love Conquers All Things--Even in Prison

 In a recent Breaking the Chains addiction recovery class, I mentioned to the participants that it's easy for us to think others should judge us for who we are today when most people in our past only know us for who we once were. While we've been growing, developing, and changing in prison, the image others have of us often stays the same. 

That means when we leave prison, people from our past will think we're the same person we were when we went in. Nothing could be further from the truth for many of us. 

To change our reputations, though, requires consistent demonstration of change. As one reputation management expert said, the only way to change a bad reputation is to behave your way out of it. 

It's easy to think we're going to be stuck with the damaged reputations that make people in society, and especially those who used to be close to us, fear us or be disgusted with us. Many of us desperately long for a chance to show that we are no longer the person who earned that reputation in the past. 

I'm profoundly grateful to the few people who have gone through my worst choices and have loved me through them. I've learned so much from these people who have shown me that love heals not only wounds but the wounders too. 

I've also experienced joy in prison through forming relationships with people who were not burdened by my past. They were not directly harmed by my past behavior, but they still chose to see me through eyes of grace instead of judgment. This is a giant gift and a motivator to demonstrate that their grace was not misspent. 

Christians from different churches who came into prison and showed the love of Christ to me, especially through Celebration Fellowship and Calvin University, helped to heal my soul. Other prisoners who could have judged me but instead chose to be my friend inspired me to trust a little bit again. 

It's easy to feel too broken to be loved again. We are often our biggest critics, the loudest voices of judgment. But then we meet someone who sees our deepest wounds, the darkest parts of our past, and who chooses to love us anyway. It's a dizzying experience. 

I never thought I'd find love again, but I have, even from within the terribly isolating confines of prison. For reasons I don't know if I'll ever understand, my girlfriend of nearly two-and-a-half years now was inspired by something I had written. Yet, most astounding is that she has chosen to love me in the most difficult of circumstances, despite knowing about my past. 

The love I've experienced, from my girlfriend and others I've mentioned here, has changed me. I hope it's made me a better man. I hope it's taught me to love with more grace and to even let go of the self-loathing that at one time threatened to keep me in an emotional prison for the rest of my life. 

I've deserved the judgment of people from my past, but the kind of love I find I have today...that's nothing but grace.

If You Did it, then You Own it, no Excuses or Justifications

Throughout my time in prison, I've heard a lot of justifications for people's crimes. Some people claim they have a "victimless" crime, like selling drugs. I guess the people whose lives are destroyed by drugs, and the children who go hungry because their mom or dad spent the grocery money on their next fix don't count. 

I've heard victim blaming, society blaming, racial blaming, poverty blaming, situational blaming, parental blaming...you name it, I've probably heard it. I'm sure the parole board has too. It's one reason they listen carefully for whether or not someone has taken 100% responsibility for their crimes--no excuses. 

To be fair, many of these offenders who shift blame elsewhere have picked up this tactic from society at large. We have a blame-shifting problem in this country. Still, it shocks me to hear people in society making excuses for some offenders (not all, but some, for sure). 

Drug dealers deal drugs because the education system failed them, because communities don't do enough to help the poor, because jobs aren't available for the low educated, or a host of other reasons. 

Gangs (and all the crime that comes with them) are society's fault, too. If only we'd give them something productive to do, educate them properly, teach them a different way. 

Murders are society's fault too. If we just controlled the guns, people wouldn't kill. Unless it's somehow justifiable, like if the victim works for a greedy insurance company. Then the murder is the victim's fault, the company's fault, the system's fault. Or maybe it's the fault of society's failure to manage mental health issues (there's probably some truth to that one!). 

Rape or sexual abuse? It's because of bad parenting, poor mental health help, or some other excuse. Unless the offender is a celebrity. Then the victim should have known the dangers of the celebrity culture. Or maybe it's just a play for money. 

I'm not suggesting we should find someone guilty just because someone makes a claim. We still need "innocent until proven guilty" (which I'd argue we don't currently have). But I'm suggesting that as a society, we can't change behavior when we find justifications for it. Seek to understand what motivated the behavior so we can address the factors that contribute to the problem. But do that while still requiring accountability. 

Let's just start owning our own behaviors. Either we're proud of what we've done (in which case we should own it), or we're ashamed of what we've done (in which case we should own it so we can change). Either way, until we commit to deal only with the truth, we'll just keep finding ways to excuse and justify bad behavior. And we'll keep getting what we've been getting--chaos, brokenness, and a line of hurting people behind us. 

Choosing Merry Over Misery During Christmas in Prison

 We received our "Christmas bags" the other day during count time. These are little goodie bags purchased by the Prisoner Benefit Fund, which means they are funded by prisoners' purchases from commissary, not from taxpayer dollars. It's a little treat we can enjoy, and for many prisoners the only "gift" they'll get during the holidays.

When I first came to prison nearly 16 years ago, the Christmas bags we received were much larger. They were usually $8 bags of goodies, but back then $8 went a lot farther. Today, the Christmas bags are somewhere around $6 bags, and because of inflation the goodies have gotten smaller and sparser. 

Still, I'm grateful for the extra snacks, especially because we cannot order these snacks from our commissary. I was happy, even, to see a candy cane stick in the bag. Why not make it a little Christmas festive? 

Not surprisingly, as I returned to my cell with my goodie bag, I heard other prisoners complaining about theirs. "These bags used to be so much bigger!" or "They've cheated us again! The Warden must be using our money to buy his own Christmas gifts!" It didn't take long for the general discontent to turn to conspiracies. 

I get it. It's hard to feel grateful in prison. It's hard to see the bright side when you're surrounded by darkness. It's especially hard to see the bright side when the darkness is coming from inside you! A little bag of goodies doesn't erase the pain of being separated from loved ones during the holidays. It doesn't reverse the injustices one feels every day in prison. It certainly doesn't blow away the cloud of depression that settles over so many in prison during the holidays. 

But a little bag of goodies IS something, no matter how small, to be grateful for. Yes, maybe it's a "pacifier" to keep the prison population passive. And yes, the legislature passing a bill that would allow us to earn time off our sentences would be better. But ulterior motives or wishing for something better doesn't change the fact that one can find a little joy in simple things. 

The older I get, and I suppose the wiser I get, the more I realize that we create so much of our own reality. We can't always control the circumstances around us, if we ever can. Yet, if we wait for our circumstances to align with our ideas of perfection, we'll never be happy. We'll never be content. 

This Christmas, as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, let's remember that He didn't let His circumstances derail His purpose or to steal His joy. I'm not happy to be in prison, but prison is a circumstance that I refuse to surrender my power to. Even if that power is to simply choose gratitude for simple things like little Christmas goodie bags.

President Biden Pardons Prisoners and Commutes Sentences

 I've been writing recently about the parole power of the Executive Branch. This past week, President Biden announced the largest ever single day exercising of this power. He will commute the sentences of 1,500 federal prisoners and pardon the convictions of 39 people. There may even be others to follow. 

According to the news media, most of the commutations are federal prisoners who were released on tether/house arrest during the Covid-19 crisis and who have since stayed offense free. This is a perfect example of how the commutation process should work. These prisoners have demonstrated that they are not a danger to their communities, and it makes perfect sense to commute their sentences. 

Governor Whitmer, you might remember, refused to release any Michigan prisoners on a similar community-based tether program during the pandemic. Despite the high death rate in Michigan's prison system, the governor resisted all calls to release even the especially vulnerable elderly prisoners who could be released. 

President Biden's pardons have earned more criticisms than the commutations he's issuing. The most controversial is Biden's pardoning of the judge who sent hundreds of youth to corrections facilities in exchange for money. Essentially, he enriched himself on the backs of vulnerable children. It's unclear to me what earned this former judge a pardon, but the optics of it are terrible. It stinks of one powerful person protecting another (former) powerful person. 

President Biden won't be the first or the last president to abuse his power, especially when the powers of the Executive Branch have been expanding (mostly unchecked) for decades. 

Speaking of checking, I have a correction to make from my last post. Apparently presumptive pardons, though not explicitly mentioned in the Constitution, have been used since the founding of America. The first President to issue presumptive pardons was George Washington when he pardoned participants of the Whiskey Rebellion before they'd even been charged or tried. Andrew Johnson pardoned Confederate soldiers and officials for their acts of rebellion, Jimmy Carter pardoned draft dodgers, and Gerald Ford pardoned Nixon before he'd even been charged or convicted for his role in Watergate. 

I still think that presumptive pardons are unconstitutional, but I'm certainly no constitutional expert. 

On another very sad note, this past week, we had another prisoner commit suicide by jumping from the fourth gallery in my housing unit. It was traumatic for everyone housed here, me included. It's unclear exactly what his reason was for choosing to end his life, but mental health issues were definitely involved. The Detroit Free Press covered the story, if you want to read more about it. Nevertheless, I felt it was important to mention, especially at this time of year when hopelessness and depression affect many prisoners. Regardless of whatever crime this young man committed, his life still mattered.

Pardon Me, but Isn't Lady Justice Supposed to be Blind?

 The United States Constitution empowers the executive branch, particularly the President of the United States, to issue pardons for people previously convicted of crimes. The Michigan Constitution empowers Michigan's governor to do the same. This power also extends to commutations of sentences, which is basically a reduction of sentence, usually to time served. 

I recently wrote about the abuse or mockery of this power when the Michigan governor (and the US President, for that matter) "pardons" turkeys for Thanksgiving. Nothing in either Constitution empowers them to pardon livestock or poultry. Yeah, I get it. It's just a "cute" thing they do. But from this side of the fence, it doesn't feel so cute. 

Now, the media is reporting that President Biden is considering "preemptively" pardoning several people before he leaves office. I'm no lawyer, but from what I've read in the Constitution, and in case law, there is no such Constitutional power that authorizes Presidents or Governors to preemptively pardon anyone. 

The dictionary definition for "pardon" is: excuse of an offense without penalty; esp.: an official release from legal punishment. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 2004). 

Technically, the dictionary definition does not define whether or not a person must first be convicted of such offense; however, I'm quite certain that the Founding Fathers intended this executive power to be used to release a person from punishment AFTER a conviction. That conviction does not have to be in a court of law. It can also occur in a legislative body, like the Senate. 

I'm really curious to see what the Constitutional experts have to say about "preemptive pardons." But Constitutional legality aside, this extension of executive power (and I would argue abuse of power) is just another example of the burgeoning powers of the executive branch. Rather than operating within the checks and balances implemented by the Founding Fathers, recent presidents (from both parties) have issued executive orders for agendas they know won't be passed by the House and Senate. Sounds like another "preemptive" practice to me. 

When those in power abuse their authority, protect themselves and others around them from accountability, and flout established Constitutional laws and principles, it sends a message to the people: There are two tiers of justice--one for the common people, and one for those with power, influence, and wealth. It de-legitimizes our judicial process when people with power can be shielded from accountability for their actions. 

As someone rightfully paying the price for the harms I've caused others, it disgusts me when justice only applies to the unconnected masses. When we lose the ability as a people to hold people in power accountable for their actions, there's no end to what they can do. And that's a scary thought.

Concrete Snow Globes -- Beauty in Prison and Other Unlikely Places and People

In my last post, I wrote about the importance of perspective, especially in difficult circumstances like prison. This past week, that theme presented itself again, but in a bit of a different way. 

I've written before about how important gratitude is, how it helps to shift our perspectives, to pull us up from depression, and to inspire us to be hopeful. I've also shared some of the things I've found to be grateful for in prison. 

Recently, we had a rather persistent snow shower that lasted all day. It didn't accumulate much more than a couple of inches, but it snowed HARD most of the day. 

As I walked in prison towards my job facilitating a substance abuse recovery group, the snow accumulated on my coat while my shoes sloshed through the slushy snow on the road. The persistent noise of prison cut through the blanket of sound-dampening snow, but the air was more peaceful than normal. 

I awed at the beauty of the snow, slowing long enough in my walk to appreciate it. My gaze shifted from razor wire background to the semi-sheer curtains of snow attempting to erase the evidence of prison. I couldn't help but notice the imposing brick and concrete structures around me, despite the beautiful snow in the midst of it all. 

"I'm living in a concrete snow globe," I thought wryly, fully aware of the existence of dichotomies all around me. 

How can the worst thing that happened in my life also be one of the best things that could have happened to me? Prison might have saved my life, but it definitely gave me the space to change my heart and mind. 

How can some of the most creative people I've ever met be in prison? They can't seem to create a different reality for themselves, returning time and time again to this concrete and razor wire jungle. 

How come it took coming to prison to form some of the best friendships I've ever had? There's no use wearing masks anymore when this concrete snow globe is like living in a glass house. People see everything. 

Why is it that some of the greatest love and grace I've ever experienced has been in prison? I thought those things were supposed to be prevalent in churches, not prisons. 

Maybe I just wasn't seeing rightly. Maybe it took prison to change my perspective. I can shift my perspective from concrete and brick walls to the cascading snow around me. Likewise, I can choose to focus on the beautiful parts of broken humanity around me instead of seeing only the brokenness. 

At times I only see the brokenness, the concrete and razor wire. Those are the times where my mind is burdened by disgust, regret, loss, and pain. But when I shift my perspective, even just a little, I see the beauty in the world around me, even in prison. 

Israel's leader Moses challenged them: "Before you are life and death. Choose life" (Deut. 30:19) Every time I shift my perspective and choose to see with hopeful eyes the beauty around me, even in prison, I choose life. 

In Prison, and in Life, Perspective Makes a BIG Difference

 During a recent addiction recovery class, called Breaking the Chains, a co-facilitator (Nate) used a rather interesting perspective exercise. He used this exercise in a discussion about fear, anxiety, and stress. I'd not seen this illustrative exercise, but I've seen other similar ones. Perhaps this one was especially relevant because he was teaching a class full of men. Nate wrote on the board:

"A woman without her man is nothing." 

After some (manly, of course) giggles and childish comments, Nate asked the class, "Would you say anything is wrong with this sentence?" 

Rather surprisingly, nearly all of the responses agreed that this sentence was wrong. I'd expected more toxic male chauvinism that permeates prison. So, Nate asked how we could fix the sentence without changing any words. That stumped the participants, perhaps because many men in prison lack basic educational foundations. In a college class, most men fix the sentence like this: 

"A woman, without her man, is nothing." 

Of course, as an English nerd, I figured out how to fix the sentence immediately, and I also recognized that the "fix" above changes nothing about the sentence meaning. After some time, Nate invited me to fix the sentence. I corrected it like this: 

"A woman: without her, man is nothing." 

Two simple punctuation marks change the whole meaning of the sentence. It goes from a derogatory statement against women to a sentence that cause most men to shrug and readily agree. The difference (besides the punctuation)? Perspective. 

The prison environment isn't exactly conducive to having a positive perspective on things. Negativity is cultivated and spread like a virus. It's pretty easy to get infected. 

Besides the negative perspective we have on our own behavior that led us to prison, prisoners often also have negative perspectives about their life experiences, their experience with the criminal justice system, and their treatment by prison staff and other prisoners. All this negativity produces a culture of negativity that makes it difficult to see things constructively. 

Like the sentence above, though, it doesn't take much to shift one's perspective. We cannot change the facts of our situation, but we can choose a positive perspective if we're willing. 

Some prisoners in these classes I facilitate have chosen to shift their perspectives. I've heard some express gratitude for prison, stating that it saved their lives. That's a great start for some. But it's easy to get sucked back into the negativity. Having a positive, and healthy, and pro-social perspective takes work. It's work that's worth every bit of struggle, though. It's the difference between being a victim of our life's circumstances and choosing to make the best of every situation, for ourselves and for others. 

I'm profoundly grateful for the people in my life who have taught me, and encouraged me over the years to keep a hopeful, healthy, and faith-focused perspective. It makes a world of difference in prison, a place where negative thinking thrives.

Michigan Governor Whitmer Pardons...a Turkey?

 The Michigan Constitution empowers the governor to commute sentences or even to pardon convictions. The process to apply for either is fairly straightforward, and many past governors have utilized their constitutional powers to commute sentences. Pardons are considerably more rare. 

In the '70s and '80s, Michigan's governors used their commutation powers to reduce life sentences for a good number of prisoners who had a couple of decades of good behavior. Yet, over the last couple of decades, the governor's commutation powers have been seldom used comparatively. Governor Whitmer has commuted far fewer sentences than her last three predecessors. I don't know of any pardons she has granted. 

Oh wait. She's pardoned a turkey. 

I know, I know. It's a tradition, both for governors and the President. But imagine the message that sends to prisoners who have worked hard to demonstrate good behavior, change thinking, and voluntarily participate in self-improvement and rehabilitation programs. Nope. Not good enough. 

But if you were just a turkey...

A good friend of mine was sentenced to life in prison for murder. There's not another crime as serious. But he has demonstrated a complete change, a total turnaround. He's not the same person he used to be. His victim's mother even advocates for his release, calling him her son now. I don't know another person who would better qualify for a commutation. 

But he's not a turkey...

Perhaps Governor Whitmer doesn't know she has these commutation powers. She seemed confused when she pardoned the turkey when the announcement read "by the powers vested in me by the Michigan constitution...." Yeah, the constitution doesn't authorize her to pardon a turkey, but she's pardoned more turkeys than humans, which the constitution actually does allow her to do. 

I'm not saying I deserve a commutation, and certainly not a pardon, but I sure wish I was a turkey. I'd stand a better chance. 

Profits Over Patients -- How How Michigan's Prisons Prioritize Money Over Health

 "Ugh! I have a callout to see Dr. L today," another prisoner recently lamented to me. "She always takes from us rather than treats us." 

The doctor this prisoner referred to is just one in a multitude of medical providers throughout the Michigan prison system who are more interested in saving their company money than in treating prisoners' medical conditions. I hear stories about this particular doctor every week from different prisoners. 

Another prisoner had his wheeled walker taken away, despite the fact that he can barely walk and has to sit down regularly so he doesn't fall over. Another prisoner had his medication stopped by this doctor, despite it being ordered by a doctor after a surgery. Another prisoner has had several medications stopped by this doctor, because she "doesn't feel like" he needs them, despite the medications being ordered by previous doctors after surgeries. Another prisoner has suffered immense pain in his neck and shoulder for years that is worsening, but this doctor refused to even listen to his complaint. "You have a chronic care appointment in December!" she stated, cutting him off. Apparently he's supposed to suffer until SHE decides it's time to listen to him. 

I could go on and on and on with examples from this one doctor. There are others, too, who treat prisoners worse than animals and for whom "first do no harm" is a joke, not a philosophy of treatment. There are good doctors, too, but even these good medical providers are limited in their ability to treat prisoners properly because the company they work for is more concerned about profits than prisoner health. 

A recent MI-Cure newsletter (Nov. 2024, www.MI-Cure.com) noted some of the major problems with prisons' private healthcare providers around the country. Four of the major providers, including Michigan's prison healthcare provider, have been riddled with lawsuits. Their horrible treatment (or lack of treatment) of prisoner healthcare needs has led to these lawsuits. Many, many more prisoners could file, and win, lawsuits concerning their terrible healthcare treatment--if they only knew how. 

Some people might argue that prisoners receive free healthcare, so we shouldn't complain about its quality. I disagree for a couple of reasons. First, it's not free. Yes, it's ONLY a $5 co-pay, but not all prisoners have prison jobs. Furthermore, since the average monthly pay is around $20-30/month, that equates to 20-25% of a prisoners monthly pay, just for a single doctor visit. That's like a person in poverty making $25k/year having to pay 25% of their income, just to SEE the doctor. 

The second reason I believe prisoners have a right to complain about our poor healthcare is that we are still human beings. Most Michigan prisoners will return to society one day. Yet, prison healthcare (or lack thereof) is killing us. Cancer and heart disease often goes untreated, diabetes is poorly treated at best, quality of life surgeries are denied or delayed for years, and necessary medications are refused or changed to ones that "suit" the provider rather than the needs of the patient. 

Sadly, the Michigan Department of Corrections and its private healthcare provider are more concerned about profits than patients. Doctors like Dr. L do not belong in the healthcare profession, so where better to put them than treating us. After all, we're "just prisoners."

Where Has the Respect Gone? It's Rare in Michigan's Minimum Security Prisons

 I've noticed a significant difference in the type and "quality" of prisoners since coming to a level one minimum security prison. For years, I've heard that level one prisons were laid back, but that stealing was a big problem. What nobody told me, and perhaps because it's new, is that many of the prisoners in low levels have little to no respect for each other. 

When prisoners have spent time in higher security levels, levels 2 and 4 especially, they live among lifers and prisoners with long sentences. These long-term prisoners set the tone for the culture among prisoners. Disrespectful behavior and attitudes are not often tolerated. Young prisoners are schooled on how to behave with respect, and more of the older prisoners already show respect for others. 

At Parnall, the level 1 prison where I am currently housed, young prisoners especially, but older ones too, lack respect for others. A significantly different culture exists where prisoners think very little of others. These problems exist at higher levels, for sure, but not as a predominant part of the culture.

Disrespect for others shows up in several ways. Simple things, like not saying excuse me, not paying attention to where others are walking and failing to "yield" as you approach (including on narrow stairs), and ignoring when someone's sleeping and yelling in front of his cell anyway are just a few examples. In the chow hall, it shows up as reaching across another person's tray or cup, bumping into other prisoners while they're eating, spilling food on a seated prisoner, and hollering across the table to offer trades to other prisoners (e.g. "juice for milk!").

Recently, a neighbor of mine had a problem in the chow hall when the prisoner who had sat down right before him put a napkin in the spot where this other man's tray was to set. My neighbor flicked the napkin on the floor, and the other guy was furious, even though he had intentionally put the napkin in the way. It led to an exchange of heated words, and then, shockingly, the guy flung a spoon of butter at my neighbor, hitting his shirt. This incident would have certainly led to a fight at higher levels, but here it ended with an exchange of heated words. Such petty things are common causes of arguments and even some fights in prison. 

Gossip also runs more rampantly at a level 1 prison. False rumors about good time bills passing and masses of prisoners being released on tether circulate every month or two. These rumors swirl with the fervor of a wildfire, and then fizzle out for another month or two. Petty gossip about other people's cases also ripple through the population at times. Prisoners with nothing better to do have their families look other prisoners up online, or they get officers to print out news stories that are then passed around. 

Being a rat in prison used to be a huge no-no, but now it seems cool and acceptable to cozy up to the officers. Prisoners who tell on other prisoners often do so with no gain to themselves. It's mind boggling to me. Other times, prisoners rat to have another prisoner moved out of the way (for a desirable job, cell, or officer favor), as retribution for some perceived slight, or simply to try to garner favor with the officers. 

I never thought I'd consider myself an "old school" in prison, but this new type of prisoner is way different than I've gotten used to. When I first came to prison, I'd hear older prisoners talk about how prison used to be. Reminiscing about the "good ol' days" in prison never made sense to me. Prison sucks, whether with "old school" values or with the new brand of disrespect. But I can't help wishing that, with the time I have left in prison, people would show a little more respect for each other.