A Tale of Two Prison Housing Units

 Finally, after nearly two months in a temporary cell, I moved back to the housing unit and cell I've been in for four years. I had been moved to another housing unit during the coronavirus chaos, and like many other prisoners who were also moved, it took a while for me to be moved back to my original cell with a bunkie I get along well with. 

While I was in another housing unit, I enjoyed hanging out with guys I hadn't seen in months or hung out with for more than a year. It was nice to reconnect. I also had my own cell for eighteen glorious days, rather than having to cram into a 7' x 9' cell with another person. Every day, I practiced guitar until my fingers couldn't take any more. I also hand-washed all my clothes since I didn't have to worry about my drying clothes getting in the way of a bunkie (our water is terrible, so laundry services lead to brown clothes). 

For the rest of those two months in "exile," I had a bunkie. He is twenty-two and serving his third prison sentence, and nearly everything he did demonstrated that he's not yet ready to give up the criminal life. I wanted to counsel him, and I did attempt to several times, but he has not yet turned a corner, and my advice likely fell on deaf ears. As we say, "You can't tell him anything." Still, I'm grateful that he was one of the uncommon bunkies who was conscientious, even at twenty-two, of the other person stuffed into that tiny cell. 

I was anxious to return to my original cell and housing unit, but it wasn't until I actually moved that I realized how stressed out I was in the other housing unit. It is remarkable to me how different the energy is between housing units. One unit has rude and disrespectful officers, which contributes a lot to the stressful environment. The other unit has officers who, for the most part, treat prisoners as people and not numbers. The first unit is filled with prisoners who stay in all kinds of trouble. The other unit, well it has that element too, but it is quieter and more subtle. Just stepping into the housing unit, you can feel the different energy. 

Prisoners who thrive the best in prison learn to do their time wherever they are. Rarely are we able to select where we'll be housed. We can make requests, but we're at the mercy of the prison administration. During the pandemic, transferring between prisons is nearly impossible. So is changing housing units, or even cells, unless forced to. As a result, some prisoners are stuck with bunkies they can't stand or get along with. It's a recipe for confrontations. 

When housed in more chaotic surroundings, one must learn to adapt, to avoid the drama. We call it "staying out of the way." Doing time like that is stressful, but sometimes it's necessary. Even still, you can't avoid all the drama. You still have to use the bathroom, even if people are smoking dope, tattooing, or just hanging out there in large groups. You still have to shower, check your email, and use the phones and microwaves, even if you have to navigate the disrespectful people around you. You've got to overlook a lot and let a lot of disrespect go. If not, well, you'll find yourself in conflict that could lead to very frustrating consequences. 

Now that I'm back in a more positive environment, I already feel more peaceful. Some people like drama and living on the edge. Not me. Call me boring if you want, but I'd rather spend my energy in constructive ways than in having to always think for the next guy.