Disrespectful Phone Usage Creates Hostility in Prison

 I have never seen phone lines in prison like I have seen in the last few months. When prisons are running normally, prisoners have things to do. They go to classes, spend time in the gym and yard, work jobs, have visits, go to medical appointments, and generally stay "busy." But with all the restrictions on what prisoners can do during the Covid era, there has been little else to do but spend time on the phone. And some prisoners have taken advantage of that in spades. 

The wait for an open phone, during normal prison operations, might be 10-15 minutes. People cycle on and off the phone, while only one or two prisoners make more than one 15-minute call. Now, wait times average two hours. It is not uncommon to see several prisoners on the phone for hours at a time. These prisoners might spend two hours in the morning, another two hours in the afternoon, and yet again in the evening. Honestly, I don't know what they could possibly have to talk about for so long. Prison life really doesn't change much from day to day. 

Phone calls aren't free either, so some of these prisoners are running up hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in phone bills. And they aren't paying for their calls. They make them collect (I've heard rumors of stolen credit cards paying for those phone calls). Staying connected to loved ones is tremendously important in prison, but there are limits to what is rational. 

The biggest problem I have with prisoners staying on the phone for hours at a time is not their motives or the costs. It is the complete disregard for other prisoners who also want to use the phone. Staying on the phone for hours at a time is disrespectful to other prisoners because it keeps them from being able to make their phone calls. 

But length of calls is not the only disrespectful behavior some of these prisoners have. Some groups of guys, usually gang members, completely ignore the phone lines, passing the phone from one group member to another. I have seen the next person waiting for an open phone wait for over an hour, after waiting even longer further back in line, while a phone is passed from gang member to gang member. Confronting the issue only results in fights, so most prisoners just stuff their frustrations. 

Prisoners are supposed to police themselves. That means we use community pressure to stop or curb bad behavior (like passing the phone off to someone not in line). The problem is, prison policies have us handcuffed on both ends. On one hand, officers do nothing about the problem and adminstrators refuse to set time restrictions on phone usage. On the other hand, communal pressure often results in fights, and prisoners are now held financially liable for any resulting medical bills. 

The grievance process and Warden's forum are supposed to be avenues to address issues like these. But the grievance process is completely broken. Staff members don't even pretend to attempt to fairly resolve issues raised in grievances. The Warden's forum is not much better. For example, a recent request for more phones to alleviate the phone line pressure received a response of, "The service provider will not install more phones due to low volume of use." Seriously? I haven't seen an empty phone in our unit in months. From 6:15 in the morning until well after 11:30 at night, there is a long line to use the phone (except during count times).

Until Covid restrictions are lifted, I don't see this dynamic changing. Unfortunately, that means some of us who still work and go to school are screwed out of the opportunity to talk on the phone with those we love.

Michigan Ranks Second in Exonerations Nationwide

 Recently released data ranked Michigan second in the nation for the number of exonerated prisoners in 2020. Michigan had twenty exonerations, while Illinois had twenty-one. Thirteen of Michigan's exonerations occurred in one county--Wayne County. A few years ago this county formed a conviction integrity unit specifically to evaluate and investigate evidence of wrongful convictions. It seems to be working.

Exonerations occur when prisoners who have previously been convicted of a crime or crimes are found to be innocent. But discovering wrongful convictions is a low priority for most counties. Once a conviction is final, even the courts afford strong weight to that conviction, regardless of evidence of innocence. 

Overturning a conviction is a very difficult, very expensive, very long, and very frustrating process. Many people give up on the fight because the odds are stacked so high against them. Many of Michigan's exonerations, in fact, are unlikely to have occurred without the official backing of Wayne County's Conviction Integrity Unit. 

In the vast majority of convictions, offenders are guilty and victims, especially, deserve some finality to the conviction. But when evidence is weak, circumstantial, or plain bad, convictions should be given special scrutiny in order to preserve the Constitutional aim of protecting innocent people from unlawful convictions.

Many wrongful convictions are the result of police or prosecutor corruption, bad science, and lying or confused witnesses. Some wrongful convictions are also the result of "technical innocence" versus "actual innocence." Technical innocence occurs when a person is convicted of one crime but is actually guilty of another, usually lesser, crime. For example, someone may be convicted of first-degree murder (which requires premeditation) when actually guilty of second-degree murder. Technical innocence matters because the consequences for conviction of the wrong crime are usually harsher. Most exonerations, though, involve actual innocence. 

Many Americans have lost confidence in law enforcement and the criminal justice system because of their growing reputation for injustice. Crime victims deserve to be protected, fairly represented, and to receive justice for the harms they experienced. But when the criminal justice system convicts the wrong people, it simply creates another victim rather than giving the crime victim true justice.

More counties ought to form conviction integrity units in order to demonstrate their commitment to justice, not a commitment to convictions at all costs. States, too, ought to eliminate immunity from prosecution for law enforcement and prosecutors who are found to have violated the law in pursuit of convictions. Science is always changing, but when science previously used for convictions is found to be faulty, convictions that relied on faulty science should be seriously reconsidered. Finally, people who knowingly lie or contribute to the conviction of an innocent person need to be vigorously prosecuted and held accountable. 

Without these significant changes to our law enforcement and criminal justice system, Americans will continue to find their confidence in our pursuit of justice declining. And victims of crime deserve justice, not a conviction, even of the wrong person, at all costs.

Here's to All the Mothers of Prisoners

 Happy Mother's Day to all mothers of prisoners. It's hard to quantify exactly how much of an impact you all have on your incarcerated loved ones, but it's enormous. Without our moms, many of us would have little or no contact outside of prison. 

I don't know how you do it--loving us through the devastation of the worst choices of our lives, but we daily feel the impact of your love. Thank you isn't enough, but it's what we have to offer right now. Hopefully the changes we make in our lives, the right choices we make going forward will be the strongest way we can show you that your love was not in vain. 

Happy Mother's Day! We love you.

Do the Next Right Thing

 Prison is full of uncertainty. One never knows if or when he'll be transferred or moved to another cell, or whether the same will happen to the friends he's made. He doesn't know if he'll have his job tomorrow, if the regular officers in his housing unit will change, if the prison administration will change (and start doing things differently). He might not know if he'll have money for the next store order, whether the courts will rule in his favor, or whether or not the legislature will finally pass favorable prison legislation (like a good time bill). 

Some of the most stressful uncertainty comes from the unknowns outside of prison. Will my loved ones die, will my children, wife, parents, or siblings stop talking to me, will the support I've had suddenly stop? Other uncertainties surround what will happen after prison. Will I have a job, a place to live, experience discrimination because of my criminal record, find acceptance and belonging in a community (faith or otherwise)? 

But other uncertainties involve daily decisions. How should I respond when I'm treated disrespectfully by other prisoners or by corrections staff? What should I do if someone steals from me? Should I quit my prison job or look for a new one? Should I stay in my bunkie situation or find a new one? Should I reach out to family or give them the space they seem to need? Should I write this letter, file this grievance, or appeal this sentence? 

Many of these decisions don't seem to be that difficult to make. For instance, if one is having trouble with a bunkie, why not try to get moved? The problem is that sometimes the devil you know is better than the one you don't. You never quite know how things will turn out if you take action one way or the other. 

A few years ago I was struggling with some decisions. I'm normally a pretty decisive person, but with so many uncertainties, I felt frozen in indecision. I don't even remember, now, what those decisions were, but they were important and stressful at the time. Perhaps it was a conflict situation with another prisoner. That happens often enough in prison. 

As I faced these uncertainties and didn't know what to do, advice I had received over the years, from my mother and others, coalesced into a single phrase: Do the next right thing. 

Such simple advice, but so powerful. Even in prison, when choices are often not so cut and dry and where the wrong choice can make the difference between flourishing and floundering, doing the next right thing is simple enough. It means letting go of all the what-ifs, all the future uncertainties, and focusing on the moment. Doing the next right thing uncomplicates decisions. No longer must I wonder if an aggressive response to another prisoner might come back to bite me. If I do the next right thing, I choose to treat that prisoner with dignity, even if his behavior begs for something else. 

Choosing to do the next right thing even changes the way we make decisions. Instead of parting with a difficult bunkie on bad terms, choosing to do the right thing, even if it means a move, means honoring that person's dignity while making the move. It means choosing to not demean him when people ask why you moved. 

Doing the next right thing is not always easy, but it's always right. And keeping one's perspective on the here and now helps to uncomplicate those choices. Honestly, doing the right thing is just the right thing to do.