"Look at this half scoop of oatmeal, man!" the prisoner at the next table complained loudly. "That guy on the line wasn't even giving out a full scoop."
"You're missing, like, three spoons worth, bro" the man sitting next to him retorted. "You aren't going to go hungry because you're three spoons short."
Conversations like this are so commonplace in the chow hall where we prisoners eat our three meals a day that if I hadn't overheard this exact conversation (I've removed a few expletives) just a few days ago, I could have constructed it from the hundreds of others I've heard. I've even heard violent threats and heated arguments between prisoners because of portion sizes. Under-scooped portions are commonplace in prison where prisoners working the line are constantly harassed and harangued by staff members when they are too generous with their scoops. Additionally, some prisoners simply want to hurry through their shift so fast that they give little attention to the size of the portions they are doling.
Is it petty for a prisoner to complain about his food portion sizes? Probably, but when the portion sizes already require many prisoners to supplement their diet, it is understandable for a prisoner to complain when he cannot afford the expensive store food and he is not given the appropriate portion in the chow hall. Furthermore, prison food leaves much to be desired, so when healthier options are served (like oatmeal), that is the most important meal of the day for some prisoners.
Recently, the Michigan governor proposed a new budget that will eliminate the privatization of prison food service, returning to a state-run food service. The reason for this proposed change is the repeated failure of the privately run company to fulfill their contractual obligations. This includes unauthorized food substitutions, staffing issues (like not enough staff or inappropriate relationships with prisoners), and the introduction of contraband through staff, to name a few. While I am neither unhappy nor hopeful for this change back to state-run food service, I think it is unfair to assume that these problems with the private company will not (or did not) exist under state-run services. They did, and they will.
Prisoners who have been down more than only a few years are, by and large, reluctant to be hopeful for any positive changes in the prison system, including returning to state-run food. The same budget concerns will exist, and the food quality is unlikely to improve. Some things may improve (one would hope), and perhaps that is the only realistic expectation we can have.
Even if the food service responsibilities change hands, however, some prisoners will continue to do their jobs with little care or concern for prisoners on the other side of the serving line, and arguments and complaints over portion sizes are bound to carry on.
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Monday, February 19, 2018
It's Hard to Judge Up Close, So Move In
I am, by nature, very curious, and I like to learn new things. This means I read a lot when I am curious about something. Sometimes, in the course of researching a topic, I have run across "For Dummies" books that have been helpful in giving me a broad overview. That's what those books are designed for.
Imagine my surprise, and frankly my amusement, when walking back from dinner the other day I saw a prison social worker, or perhaps a psychologist, carrying a book that caught my eye. He was carrying a book titled Case Management for Dummies. I imagine this book provides very practical advice and step-by-step instructions for particular situations a case manager might face, particularly in prison. But it occurred to me that a professional case manager ought not need a "For Dummies" book. To be fair, I know nothing about the person carrying this book. For all I know, he might not be a case manager. Maybe this book was something he was studying on his own, or maybe he, too, has a high level of curiosity and likes to learn new things. Or maybe he is a case manager who finds the book particularly helpful to keep things simple.
What I do know is that I made a snap judgment about this man, because I have tended to believe prison social workers and psychologists are not very competent at their jobs. But that is an unfair conclusion. I have very little experience or interaction with these professionals, and they very well may have a high level of competence. It must take a special person to want to work with prisoners, and to work with mentally ill prisoners, an even more special person. I can't imagine it is an easy job. I actually have a lot of respect for those who commit themselves to caring for the needs of others, in this case, prisoners' psychological needs.
While I was amused by seeing this book in the hands of a prison employee, the lesson I learned is that we have to be careful about the snap judgments we make of others. Prisoners carry the stigma and scars of their past with them in ways that often show up in how they present themselves. It is easy to make snap judgments because of someone's looks, lack of employment history, lack of education, or simply the fact of their incarceration. But these things rarely tell the full story of the person. We have to look past the surface to find out who someone really is. We have to ask questions and take the time to get to know them.
Everyone's story is different. Carrying a "For Dummies" book doesn't tell this man's full story, and the scars of former poor decision-making doesn't tell a prisoner's full story either. The only way we can discover someone's story is to take the vulnerable step of getting close. As psychologist and author, Brene Brown aptly put it, "People are hard to [judge] up close. Move in."
(Brown quote take from Braving the Wilderness, chapter four title--"People are hard to hate up close. Move in.")
Imagine my surprise, and frankly my amusement, when walking back from dinner the other day I saw a prison social worker, or perhaps a psychologist, carrying a book that caught my eye. He was carrying a book titled Case Management for Dummies. I imagine this book provides very practical advice and step-by-step instructions for particular situations a case manager might face, particularly in prison. But it occurred to me that a professional case manager ought not need a "For Dummies" book. To be fair, I know nothing about the person carrying this book. For all I know, he might not be a case manager. Maybe this book was something he was studying on his own, or maybe he, too, has a high level of curiosity and likes to learn new things. Or maybe he is a case manager who finds the book particularly helpful to keep things simple.
What I do know is that I made a snap judgment about this man, because I have tended to believe prison social workers and psychologists are not very competent at their jobs. But that is an unfair conclusion. I have very little experience or interaction with these professionals, and they very well may have a high level of competence. It must take a special person to want to work with prisoners, and to work with mentally ill prisoners, an even more special person. I can't imagine it is an easy job. I actually have a lot of respect for those who commit themselves to caring for the needs of others, in this case, prisoners' psychological needs.
While I was amused by seeing this book in the hands of a prison employee, the lesson I learned is that we have to be careful about the snap judgments we make of others. Prisoners carry the stigma and scars of their past with them in ways that often show up in how they present themselves. It is easy to make snap judgments because of someone's looks, lack of employment history, lack of education, or simply the fact of their incarceration. But these things rarely tell the full story of the person. We have to look past the surface to find out who someone really is. We have to ask questions and take the time to get to know them.
Everyone's story is different. Carrying a "For Dummies" book doesn't tell this man's full story, and the scars of former poor decision-making doesn't tell a prisoner's full story either. The only way we can discover someone's story is to take the vulnerable step of getting close. As psychologist and author, Brene Brown aptly put it, "People are hard to [judge] up close. Move in."
(Brown quote take from Braving the Wilderness, chapter four title--"People are hard to hate up close. Move in.")
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
Making a Difference Right Where You Are
I'm not one who likes to shovel snow, but apparently there are plenty of people who do--even in prison. Inside prison, wide sidewalks lead from building to building, and each path is lined with signs telling prison inmates that stepping off the walk is out of bounds. Some prisoners have yard crew jobs--they mow lawns in the summer and shovel snow in the winter. But, the number of yard crew workers is not enough to keep the entire prison compound shoveled, especially when every housing unit has a small yard of its own, complete with a small track and sidewalks along the unit.
When the snow falls heavily, I am often surprised to see people from my unit (and others) volunteer to go outside and shovel, as early as 6AM. It is certainly good exercise, and obviously some people don't mind the cold--I'm certainly grateful for their labor. Not a lot of prisoners like to work, so it's refreshing when I see prisoners volunteer for tasks they are not responsible for. Too often, I'm frustrated when I see that another prisoner hasn't bothered to clean up after himself in the bathroom, or at the microwaves. It's easy to think that everyone in prison is lazy, but that's simply not the case.
Recently, at a Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI) convocation, at the start of our most recent semester of college classes, the Warden recognized the volunteer hours of CPI students. We are certainly not the only prisoners who volunteer in ways that give back to our own community, but as Warden Burton noted, in 2017 CPI students volunteered over 1,800 hours of their own time to help other prisoners--facilitating and tutoring math and algebra, study skills, and moral formation classes, and preparing other prisoners for job interviews in the employment workshop. Every prison has a different "vibe," but at Handlon Correctional Facility, there is a hunger for education designed to prepare prisoners for success upon release from prison. We are fortunate to have a warden who supports educational efforts and who recognizes the value that peer-led education has on these efforts.
I found great satisfaction seeing one of our employment workshop students recently highlighted by Governor Rick Snyder in his State of the State address. This Vocational Village student, recently released from prison, is doing so well that it caught the attention of Michigan's governor. This is our reward for volunteering--seeing fellow prisoners succeed upon release from prison. We can't have such success with every student, but if even one of these student prisoners does well upon release, that's one fewer victim, one safer community, one healthier family.
You're not likely to see me volunteering to shovel snow, but it is the work of those who do volunteer that makes it possible for me (and others) to give back in other ways. We all have an opportunity to do our part, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, to make a difference right where we are. How are you making a difference in your community?
When the snow falls heavily, I am often surprised to see people from my unit (and others) volunteer to go outside and shovel, as early as 6AM. It is certainly good exercise, and obviously some people don't mind the cold--I'm certainly grateful for their labor. Not a lot of prisoners like to work, so it's refreshing when I see prisoners volunteer for tasks they are not responsible for. Too often, I'm frustrated when I see that another prisoner hasn't bothered to clean up after himself in the bathroom, or at the microwaves. It's easy to think that everyone in prison is lazy, but that's simply not the case.
Recently, at a Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI) convocation, at the start of our most recent semester of college classes, the Warden recognized the volunteer hours of CPI students. We are certainly not the only prisoners who volunteer in ways that give back to our own community, but as Warden Burton noted, in 2017 CPI students volunteered over 1,800 hours of their own time to help other prisoners--facilitating and tutoring math and algebra, study skills, and moral formation classes, and preparing other prisoners for job interviews in the employment workshop. Every prison has a different "vibe," but at Handlon Correctional Facility, there is a hunger for education designed to prepare prisoners for success upon release from prison. We are fortunate to have a warden who supports educational efforts and who recognizes the value that peer-led education has on these efforts.
I found great satisfaction seeing one of our employment workshop students recently highlighted by Governor Rick Snyder in his State of the State address. This Vocational Village student, recently released from prison, is doing so well that it caught the attention of Michigan's governor. This is our reward for volunteering--seeing fellow prisoners succeed upon release from prison. We can't have such success with every student, but if even one of these student prisoners does well upon release, that's one fewer victim, one safer community, one healthier family.
You're not likely to see me volunteering to shovel snow, but it is the work of those who do volunteer that makes it possible for me (and others) to give back in other ways. We all have an opportunity to do our part, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, to make a difference right where we are. How are you making a difference in your community?
Tuesday, February 6, 2018
Courage and Vulnerability--Two Key Ingredients to Healing the Effects of Crime
| Saturday night I reluctantly attended our monthly restorative justice club meeting at Handlon Correctional Facility. I was reluctant for no other reason than that I had just started a new semester in college, and I had a lot of homework to do. I wasn't looking forward to another meeting. But, boy, am I glad I went! This meeting, which was attended by around twenty Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI) students, a CPI professor/sponsor, and several students from Calvin College's Knollcrest campus, was opened by a presentation from a CPI student. This student nervously started his PowerPoint presentation and began the story of his incarceration. From the very beginning of his presentation, my attention was riveted; you could hear a pin drop in the room. He spoke of his normal upbringing and the shift in his life where things began to go wrong. He told of that critical moment where he made choices that would forever alter his life, and more importantly would alter the lives of many others, including the woman he killed. I began to experience a deep emotional response as he shared in unfiltered language the rippling effects of his actions, for I, too, often think of the rippling effects of my crime. I was profoundly moved by the courage and vulnerability of this CPI student, who is serving life in prison, as he shared the details of the harms he caused. I felt intense empathy for his victim, for his ex-fiance whose life spiraled out of control when he was convicted, and for the many others whose lives were shattered by his crime. You see, crime never harms the primary victim alone. After this student's presentation, we broke into three groups to discuss restorative justice issues through the lens of Larry Nasser's recent conviction. Nassar is a former gymnastics doctor who was accused of sexually assaulting over 200 young women, and who was recently convicted for several of these assaults and sentenced to 40-175 years in prison, in addition to the 60-year federal sentence he already received. We discussed whether or not the victims, Nassar, and the community received justice. To have this discussion, we had to define what justice looked like for each party--not an easy take. The discussion was riveting and emotional as we considered the impact this case had on each party. Restorative justice is complex and not everyone will agree on what justice is for each case or each party in a case. But, it is important to have these discussions because it enhances our ability to empathize with the far-reaching impact our crimes and the crimes of others have had. It also compels us to think about what justice really means, to our victims, to the communities affected by our crimes, and lastly to ourselves. The true healing that restorative justice promotes in the lives of victims, offenders, and affected communities can only take place when people are courageous and vulnerable. I'm grateful for the courage and vulnerability of the CPI student who shared his story, and I'm moved with compassion by the courage and vulnerability of Nassar's victims who publicly shared the devastating impact his crimes had on them. It is in these moments of courage and vulnerability that real healing begins to take place. |