New Year, Same Old Prison Garbage

 

Recently, the Michigan Department of Corrections announced to its prisoners that we might be getting some price reductions on commissary items. You'd think that would be a cause for celebration among us prisoners, but it's only generated a bunch of eye rolls and skepticism.  Over the last two or three years, commissary item prices have risen dramatically, especially on popular food items. Tuna prices jumped more than 100% due to "shortages." It only keeps going up, making us wonder if "shortages" were really the problem.  Peanut butter also rose sharply due to problems in the peanut supply chain. That was more than two years ago, but the price has only continued to climb. It never dropped after supplies stabilized.  Coffee, which is instant, dry, generic brand coffee, more than doubled in the last two years. Mayonnaise more than doubled, too. Even though egg prices have dropped again, our mayo cost has remained very high. Even Ramen noodles jumped almost 80% in cost over the last couple of years.  One problem with prison commissary prices in Michigan is that up til now, 15% of the cost of commissary items goes to the Prisoner Benefit Fund (PBF). The PBF pays for things like cable television, weight equipment, sports equipment, Christmas "goody" bags, and other "prisoner benefits." With the drastically increased pricing, the PBF has become flush with cash over the last couple of years.  PBF funds are spent with warden and prisoner representative approval, but some prison wardens refuse to approve many expenses. Consequently, the PBF fund grows. (Incidentally, there is little to no oversight or independent review of how these funds are managed by the MDOC. Many prisoners believe the funds are often misused, though we can offer no proof without an independent audit.) Commissary prices continue to rise, and prisoner wages have not risen in more than three decades. Perhaps that is why the MDOC has decided to reduce the percentage of commissary prices that go to the PBF. Instead of 15%, it will now be...14%. That means that a $6.96 bag of freeze dried coffee, that a year ago cost $3.68, should now drop to $6.89. Wow. Big savings.  I, personally, do not believe the reduction is enough. Perhaps the MDOC plans future reductions if necessary. I hope so. But commissary prices will continue to inflate dramatically because there is no competition. The single company that manages our commissary can charge whatever it wants, and we have to deal with it, like it or not.  There are certainly many far more important things happening in the world that the legislature has to concern itself with, but sadly, that's always the case. In the mean time, prisoners and their families pay a heavy cost of unregulated, noncompetitive commissary prices for basic necessities and food replacements due to inadequate prison food.

Unforgotten in Prison During the Holidays

The segregation cells at the prison where I am housed are in my housing unit. They are actually on the same gallery (floor) as my cell, and I am right across from the middle section of the twenty or so seg cells. 

This past week, the prison emptied at least half of the seg cells that had been occupied. Others will transfer out or be released this week. Hopefully it'll be quiet at night for a few days, at least!  

Unfortunately, the holidays are a time when prisoners tend to go to the hole (segregation). Some prisoners decide to "party" and drink prison hooch (alcohol), often leading to rowdy or violent behavior. Others "treat" themselves to getting high on one of the several substances available in prison. These prisoners, too, either get rowdy or are simply caught using. 

Fights are more common in prison during the holidays, probably because of a combination of increased substance abuse, and because prisoners are more angry and anxious from missing family. Substances also have to be paid for, and prisoners who go into debt and can't pay often end up fighting or "locking up." 

When a prisoner locks up, he goes into protective custody. This is a special section of the "hole" that is more protected from the general population than the rest of the hole. At other prisons, the hole and protection are the same cells, or an entire housing unit might be designated for prisoners in protection. 

I understand the increased sadness, depression, and anxiety during the holidays. Every year, to some degree, I experience the same. I miss being with my family, and I'm angry that I put myself in this situation. I've lost out on a lot of important memories with people I love because of my stupid decisions. It's easy to spiral into a hole of self-pity. 

I'm long enough into my prison sentence that I have developed ways to deal with my emotions in healthier ways than many other prisoners I see around me. I've never been drawn to the substance abuse I've observed in prison for many years. But I do have to fight the tendency to isolate myself and wallow in my sadness. 

I'm incredibly grateful for the people who have remembered me throughout the holidays, including Christians who work for several prison ministries. It's amazing how meaningful even a simple card with a mass mailing message can have. 

But the most effective antidote I have found for staying out of both the actual hole (segregation) and the hole of self-pity is to focus on putting a smile on others' faces. I've found that it doesn't take much. A simple gift of something sweet from commissary, along with a simple "merry Christmas" message can make a big difference for those who are hurting. 

I'll never forget the simply wrapped (in white typing paper) Christmas gift I received from another prisoner one year. It was a few pieces of candy and a granola bar, but it really put a smile on my face. Now, I try to replicate that for other prisoners. 

Everyone wants to be remembered, especially during the holidays, but there's definitely power in what Jesus said: "It's better to give than to receive." 

Navigating Relationships with Prisoners During the Holidays

 The holidays are always hard for prisoners and for their loved ones. We're separated and unable to connect and celebrate together, whatever that looks like for each family. 

It's a particularly stressful time in prison, when depression and anger often get the best of prisoners. The hole (segregation) fills up quickly and often, and prisoners are more short tempered than normal. Fights and insolent behavior is more common as emotions run high. 

Our families we left on the outside also have to navigate the holidays without us, sometimes plagued by the sadness of separation, and perhaps even (unfairly) by guilt that we cannot enjoy the holidays with them. 

Navigating the complexity of relationships with incarcerated loved ones during the holidays and other special days and events is difficult. Sadness is inevitable, but it doesn't have to dominate, or even worse to come between you and an incarcerated loved one. 

When I wrote Insider's Guide to Prison Life, I did so because navigating relationships with an incarcerated loved one is complicated any time of the year. It is even more so during holidays. I've experienced the prison side of the equation, so I know what it's like in prison. I know what we need, and sadly the way we often sabotage relationships with the very people we love and desperately miss. 

Insider's Guide to Prison Life addresses many of these issues and more. This year, give yourself the gift of learning how to turn the tragedy of incarceration into an opportunity to deepen and enhance your relationship with your incarcerated loved one. 

Insider's Guide to Prison Life is available at Amazon.com in paperback for $14.99 or free on Kindle with an unlimited Kindle membership. https://a.co/d/5UDj4BU Invest in yourself and your relationships this year, or gift it to someone else who has an incarcerated loved one.

Don't Just Talk About It. Be About It.

I recently read a beautiful Thanksgiving themed quote, written on a whiteboard by my supervisor at my job in prison. The quote comes from President John F. Kennedy during his Thanksgiving Day proclamation in 1963. He said, 

"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them."

In other words, we best express gratitude by living that gratitude out, not just by verbalizing it. That requires intentionality, though, and not a lot of people live with intentionality. 

We humans, and Americans in particular, are emotionally reactive beings. The ways we behave primarily reflect our emotional states. That's probably why psychologists, for decades now, have focused on "Cognitive Behavioral Therapy." They attempt to teach their clients how to think rationally before they act. 

Some of Michigan's prisoners are required to take classes that are based on cognitive behavioral therapy. These classes, like "Thinking for a Change," try to teach prisoners thinking tools to help them evaluate their thinking and adjust their typical behaviors before they act. These classes are attempting to teach intentionality. 

I, too, try to teach a form of cognitive behavioral theory when I teach about relapse prevention plans. These plans are designed to help prisoners to think about their triggers, how they have responded to these triggers in the past, and to make plans for how to respond differently in the future. 

One exercise I like to use is to help prisoners think through the values they claim to hold. Then we discuss how well they are actually living out those values. This process was very helpful for me when I first came to prison. Most of us, inside and outside prison, don't very well live into the values we claim to hold. Perhaps that's what a saying I commonly hear in prison is trying to convey: "Don't just talk about it. Be about it." Or maybe that's just a call to demonstrate one's claimed toughness. 

Anyway, if one claims, for example, to value kindness, they must live a life characterized by kindness. Perfection is not necessary, but consistency is. 

When it comes to gratitude, it's easy to behave with gratitude, temporarily anyway. But, once we feel like we've "evened the scales," we often return to our normal behavior patterns. That's not how gratitude is supposed to work. It's not a currency with which we pay our debts to others. 

I'm profoundly grateful for God's grace and mercy in my life, but nothing I do, no behavior on my part, will ever even the scales. I'm simply incapable of repaying that debt. Yet, it ought not stop me from still living a life of gratitude towards God. I don't always live out that gratitude very well, but I do make a consistent effort to try. 

But these are just words that you're reading. You couldn't possibly know how accurate or truthful they are until you are able to observe my life, my gratitude in action. 

I'm not sure how familiar JFK was with Catholic theologians, but his quote reminds me of the words of St. Francis of Assisi:

"Preach always, and if necessary, use words." 

Much to be Thankful for, Even in Prison?

 Thanksgiving is always a good time to think, more than usual, about what we are thankful for. But it's not the only time of year we ought to think about or even express thanks. 

Over the last nearly 15 years that I have been incarcerated, I have had many reasons to be thankful. I know, it sounds strange to hear, I'm sure. But I think I can reflect back with thankfulness, despite my incarceration. 

As much as I hate being in prison, I am grateful for the interruption incarceration provided to my destructive behavior. I was stuck in a pattern of behavior that needed interruption. I needed that distance and break from my real life in order to work on the issues driving my bad behavior. I didn't anticipate having to spend this much time in prison, but whatever God's reasons are for not intervening before now, I'm sure they are for my good. 

I'm also grateful for the incredible favor I've experienced in prison. For nearly fifteen years, God has protected me from violence, even when violence was all around me. I've also had decent jobs in prison. Though prison wages are pitifully low, in each prison where I've been housed, I've had a top paying job. God has provided for me, more than I deserve. I've also enjoyed mostly positive relationships with prisoners and staff. 

I'm grateful for the incredible opportunity I had to earn a bachelors degree in prison, from a well respected Christian university. I applied because I wanted to earn a bachelors degree, but I didn't expect to find such a loving and caring community in the process. The six years I spent involved in the Calvin Prison Initiative (www.calvin.edu/prisoninitiative) community was something I never expected to find in prison. I made some truly lifelong friends, and I experienced far greater blessings than I could have imagined in prison. 

The prison where I am now housed is not exactly ideal. However, even here, I have many things to be grateful for. I'm grateful, again, to have a decent and well-paying job (compared to most prison jobs, that is). I'm also housed in a single man cell, which is a HUGE blessing! Additionally, there is little violence or theft at this facility. I've heard of other level one prisons having far more violence and theft.  

Finally, I'm thankful that the prison phone rates went down again this year. Now it costs about $1.17 per call, when just a few years ago it was over $3 per call. That makes a big difference when I earn barely three dollars a day. I'm also thankful for the organizations working hard to get the good time legislation on the ballot next November. To all those who are helping with this endeavor, thank you!

Let's keep a thankful spirit throughout the year, and it'll help us combat all the negativity trying to destroy our peace, whether inside prison or out.

Michigan Has the Eighth Highest Incarceration Rate in the World

 This year (2023) has seen probably more criminal justice reform bills introduced in Michigan than in any recent years. But they've nearly all died in committee. Legislators have been reluctant, for whatever their reasons, to advance any of these bills. Now, after our recent election, the Democrats, who were more likely than Republicans to pass these bills, have temporarily lost control of Michigan's House of Representatives. 

It's discouraging to have so much hope for the passage of some of these critical bills, only to see them die in committee. Nothing has really changed at all. 

In the summer 2022 edition of Fast Company magazine, Kristin Toussaint wrote about a bill passed in California that allows some prisoners to be resentenced after years of good behavior ("A Law that Rectifies Injustice," p. 68). It's a second chance bill, similar to Michigan's Second Look Act that never advanced out of committee (H.B. 4556 and S.B. 321). 

Toussaint shares incarceration rates from around the world, and not surprisingly, Michigan is very high on the list. In fact, the top eight locations listed are in the United States (Louisiana tops the list). Per capita, Michigan ranks as the eighth highest incarceration rate in the world. As of 2022, Michigan incarcerates 599 people out of every 100,000. That's more than three times the rate of China and more than 17 times higher than India! Even Cuba (510) and Russia (329) incarcerate fewer people per capita than Michigan. 

That's a very sad statistic that ought to deeply trouble Michigan lawmakers. But it's unpopular to let prisoners out early, even if Michigan's average prison sentence is longer than any other state in the nation. It's definitely not that Michigan has higher crime rates than other states and other countries. Michigan has simply made prison industry a foundation of its economy. 

Taxpayers ought to be angy that Michigan continues to incarcerate people for decades longer than necessary, when laws like the Second Look Act could allow for smart, evidence based decision making on reducing lengthy sentences. Why are we wasting precious tax dollars to keep prison jobs Michigan cannot even fill? 

It's time for Michigan citizens to step up and have the courage that the lawmakers don't have. Please be sure to sign the petition to bring the Good Time ballot initiative to Michigan voters. 
Go to:  www.gtballot2023.org  find out more.

When the Foundation of Truth Crumbles the Edifice of Justice Falls

 The last few weeks have highlighted the deep divides in America. We all knew America was deeply divided, but I'm guessing most didn't expect this level of division. We're not just divided over policies of economics and taxation, crime and punishment, or gender and sexual rights. Our divisions apparently go much, much deeper. 

Now, we have very large groups in American supporting Hamas and their recent horrific crimes. To be fair, many of these supporters deny that Hamas carried out the horrors they are accused of, despite the overwhelming evidence. But, ought we to be surprised? Some Americans have been creating their own faulty narratives for years. 

Some groups deny the truth of the holocaust, some the truth of slavery's horrors, and others the truth of election results, despite wide evidence in each case. And these are big examples. How many hundreds and thousands of "smaller" things are Americans denying, despite the evidence? Come to think of it, I'm not at all surprised so many in America support Hamas. 

Postmodern philosophy prides itself on rejecting objective truth. What's true for you is true for you and what's true for me is true for me. Well, look around you and see the results of that ridiculous philosophy. When we as a society reject objective truth, anarchy is the inevitable result. We ought not be surprised to see the chaos we're seeing in the world. 

Even courtrooms are affected by this widespread rejection of truth. Juries, and judges, to be fair, are persuaded now less by concrete facts and more by the persuasiveness of storytellers. Justice depends on truth, so until people are willing to deal in facts, no matter how ugly, justice cannot prevail. 

I'm terribly saddened by the horrors happening in Israel and Palestine. I'm deeply disturbed over the innocents, on both sides of the divide, who are suffering because of this millenniums long hatred between peoples. I don't know how this conflict should be resolved, but I do know one thing. It'll never be resolved without a commitment to deal only with the truth, on both sides. 

Truth is the foundation of justice. A simple glance at all the atrocities in America's past will reveal an origin for each: rejection of objective truth. If we want to begin turning hearts away from hatred and towards true justice, we must begin by embracing truth.

"It's not my fault!" -- How the State Reinforces Lack of Accountability

 The news networks recently covered a story of Attorneys General from several states filing a lawsuit against social media companies for providing children access to harmful content. Their claim is that the rise in mental health crises among children is at least partly the fault of these social media companies. 

I agree that children ought to be protected from harmful things, including online content that disturbs their mental health. But, I question the motives of these AGs. If they prevail, the social media companies will likely be liable for hundreds of millions of dollars that these harmed children will never see. Is it really the children the AGs care about?

Hear me out. Remember back in December of 2021? Ethan Crumbley, a juvenile, took a gun to school in Oxford, Michigan. He killed four students and a teacher, and wounded several others. He faced prosecution, as an adult, for his horrific actions. His parents, too, were prosecuted for manslaughter for their son's actions. In this case, the Michigan AG determined that Ethan and his parents were responsible for his actions. 

Alternatively, recent court cases and legislative actions have concluded that juveniles cannot face mandatory life in prison sentences because of their impressionability, immaturity, and lack of development. Both the courts and legislatures recognized that social forces often heavily influence young minds. In these cases, social forces are largely to blame for the juveniles' actions. 

Now, I believe largely motivated by money, these Attorneys General are going after big tech. They want to hold them responsible for children's behavior. Certainly, these companies ought to have safeguards in place to protect children from harmful content, but our society cannot even agree what exactly is harmful. Somehow, school libraries ought not to censor any material young minds might want to explore, no matter how "harmful" it could be. But, big tech companies ought to? It makes no sense. 

But the double standards don't stop there. Attorneys General are responsible for holding people accountable for illegal actions. It's their jobs. Yet, state prosecutors are given "prosecutorial immunity" for their actions, even when illegal. Other state "agents," including police officers, judges, and corrections officers and staff are also usually protected by immunity. 

So, as I understand it, if you have no money the state can get from you, it's off to prison you go. You're personally responsible for your behavior (sometimes). If you have lots of money, then even if parents ought to protect their children, and children are otherwise held accountable for their own behavior, it's now the rich companies' fault. And, if you work for the state, you can basically get away with whatever because you're protected by immunity. Got it. 

Can we just tear the blindfold off of Lady Liberty already? Can we ditch the scales of justice? Blind justice is a fallacy, and fairness and equality are a farce. With these terribly mixed messages about responsibility, it's no wonder so many people in America want to blame everyone else for their actions.

Mass Shooting in Maine Exposes Crisis in Mental Health Responses

The night was winding down as we approached the time for lock down. The housing unit was loud as men hollered back and forth with each other, finalizing last minute conversations or negotiations of one type or another. I was down on base, having just finished a few games of Scrabble. 

All of a sudden, another prisoner in my housing unit walked quickly towards one side of our unit. He swung his arms wildly, waving his religious text in one hand and shouting nonsensically at the same time. I tried to discern what he was saying, but it made no sense. He was shouting something about his religion, but it also sounded like he was defending his city (Detroit) and vilifying anyone who challenged either his religion or city. 

I looked around in confusion, asking a few people what was happening. The man was known in our unit as being loud and obnoxious, and even a little aggressive, but it appeared like he was experiencing a mental break. Nobody seemed to know what he was hollering about. 

I heard some other prisoners laughing and making cruel comments about the man, but everyone stayed out of his way. Even the officers, who would normally quickly respond to such a situation, stayed in the office. They had to have heard what was happening. 

The next day, the same man, still erratic and over hyper, approached a nurse who came to pass out medication to the men in segregation. I heard him aggressively demand that the nurse tell his psych he needed to see her. The nurse looked scared as officers were again absent. 

Later, the man was placed on suicide watch by his psychologist where he shouted, punched his mat, and threw his dinner food for over an hour before calming down. He was clearly experiencing a mental health crisis. 

What disturbed me about this whole situation was the lack of response by correctional officers. Yet, I don't really blame them. For more than two years now, corrections officers have been mandated to work overtime so much that I don't understand how they can possibly have a life outside of work, let alone respond appropriately to prison crises. They are stretched so thin, when crises like this happen, they sometimes stay out of the way, hoping the situation will resolve itself. 

We've seen the same overtaxing of healthcare, law enforcement, and mental health specialists outside of prison. Too many people don't want to work, yet the problems don't stop or slow down just because the workforce is short. 

I don't know if Robert Card, the man in Maine who just took the lives of at least 16 people, faced the same apathy to his mental health crises. Perhaps he, too, faced a system woefully short of people and resources. He was known to have violent and aggressive behavior and a mental health issue, but he still had access to assault rifles. He didn't get the help he needed to prevent him from harming others. I can only hope he's caught before he kills any more people.

Our country is in crisis, but it shouldn't take a mass casualty event like the one in Maine to galvanize people into doing something. I'm afraid even this tragedy won't cause any changes. Others like it haven't been enough. 

It makes me worry about what crises will finally cause changes in our prison system. The current situation is untenable as officers are quitting faster than the department can replace them. And those who stay face their own mental health crises from being forced to work so many hours. It's not only prisoners who are at risk of losing their minds.

We as a society cannot continue to hold onto our old ways of thinking and expect different results. That's insanity. We need a total rethinking of America's mental health crisis, and we need a total rethinking of America's dependency on incarceration as a solution to every problem. 

Man Down! Prisoner Crisis Causes Conflict of Emotions

 This morning, a little more of my humanity died. Every time we prisoners suffer indignities from prison staff or other prisoners, or if we are forced to not act when we see someone in crisis, it strips more of our humanity. 

Early this morning, I was sitting on my bed writing, listening to music when I heard a loud thump and felt the gallery shake a little. I removed an earbud from my ear so I could hear the unit noise and determine if something serious was happening. 

"C.O.! C.O.! HELP! FIRST GALLERY!!" I heard several prisoners shout.

I jumped up and looked out my door to see a neighbor a few doors down lying face up on the ground in front of his cell. His head was hanging off the gallery, and he appeared to be passed out. 

I rushed over to him, as I was the only one close to him at the time. At first, he appeared to not be breathing, and I could see blood dripping rather quickly off the back of his head. Then, relieved, I saw his chest move. My EMT training from years ago kicked in, and I shouted his name, asking if he was okay. He was unresponsive to my call. 

Everything in me wanted to support his neck and head, to use a washcloth in his hands to staunch his bleeding. But I could hear the officers running towards us on the gallery, and I knew I would probably get in trouble if I touched him. I had to step back and wait for the staff to help him. 

I was appalled to see the first officer who arrived grasp the other prisoner by his feet and drag him back so his head was no longer hanging over the gallery. The officer didn't support his head in any way or protect his head from further injury. Clearly, the officer had not even the simplest training in first aid. 

As the officers took charge of the situation, I had to leave the area. Soon, the whole housing unit was closed as the officers and medical staff (who had arrived after several minutes) waited for the ambulance to arrive. 

The prisoner, who had apparently passed out, is a man around eighty years old whom I had befriended. He is new to prison, has no financial support, little family support, and has no clue how things operate in prison. Lately, he'd been feeling sick, so I'd been checking up on him and making sure he had tea and cough drops. Apparently, he was feeling worse than he let on. 

As he left the unit in a stretcher, I was able to give him a thumbs up, and he nodded to me. Hopefully he'll be well cared for in the hospital and be okay to finish out his short sentence. I know he's looking forward to going to live with his daughter when he leaves here. I don't know if anyone in his family even knows what happened to him today. 

My compassion for people like this old man is alive and well, but when I am unable to assist someone in need, especially when I have the training to do so, it steals something from my soul. I hope the freedom I'll have after I leave prison to choose how I respond to people in need will restore some of what I've lost in prison.

Michigan Prisoners Prepare for Careers with Mock Job Interviews

Another prisoner stands in the hallway, tucking his shirt in and readying himself before nervously entering the room. He strides in and extends his hand, gripping my hand firmly and introducing himself with his first name. I can tell he's been listening to my instructions. 

"How're you doing? I'm Bill," he says in greeting. 

I shake his hand with a smile and reply, "I'm Bryan. Thanks for coming in. Please, have a seat." 

We sit in plastic chairs across from each other, just five feet apart. He sits upright, plants his feet in front of him, and folds his hands on his lap. I can tell he's self-conscious of his hands, trying to avoid displaying signs of stress. He's struggling to appear relaxed, but naturally he's nervous. I'm conducting this mock job interview in front of other prisoners, and he knows at the end he will receive constructive criticism on what he did well and how to improve. 

Over the course of two days I have instructed these prisoners on the etiquette of job interviews. We covered basics, like finding a job, showing up on time, dressing appropriately, using appropriate language, and listening to what the interviewer really wants to know. We also cover basics of paralinguistics, the science of body language. It's not an exact science, but it's important for prisoners to know how and what their body communicates, especially since ex-cons are often thought of as aggressive. 

Teaching prisoners how to conduct productive job interviews, for me, is not just about teaching them the science of interviewing. It's also an opportunity for me to help other prisoners think deeply about themselves and how they think about and speak about their criminal past. I emphasize honesty and accountability throughout, a focus I also encourage them to take to their parole board interviews. 

As prisoners, we face large obstacles upon release from prison, whether it is obtaining employment or even finding housing that does not discriminate against criminal histories. My goal is to help other prisoners talk honestly about their histories and to learn how to articulate turning points and other strengths they have, despite their prior record. I call it "best foot forward opportunities." 

"Tell me a little about yourself," I say to Bill. It's a pretty straightforward question meant to relax the interviewee, but it stumbles a lot of prisoners. Some sound like they are writing a description for a dating app, while others key in on the real question: Who are you and will you be a good fit for this company? 

Bill stumbles through a brief introduction, settles in a bit, and does surprisingly well throughout the rest of the practice interview. I can see his confidence grow and his comfort rise as he finds himself doing better than he expected. 

After the interview, I ask Bill how he thinks he did, what he did well and what he can improve. Most prisoners are aware of their stumbles and areas they need to improve on. Not many talk about their strengths. When I ask the other prisoners, though, most start by saying something encouraging. 

"You did a great job!" or "I liked how you managed your body language." 

Occasionally, a prisoner forgets the positive part of constructive feedback and unleashes with negative feedback. It happens rarely, though. Most are afraid of the feedback they'll face, so they are encouraging, though honest. 

After five or six different practice interviews, we wrap up the class for the morning. 

"Great job, guys! I'm proud of you for having the courage to get up here and try. It's better to make your mistakes in here so you're even better prepared for the real thing. I appreciate all your feedback for each other. Good luck on your first interview."

The guys are gathering their things to leave when one raises his hand and asks, "So, would you hire us?" 

I smile at his question. 

"Yeah, of course!" I reply "Most of you anyway..." I leave my reply hanging for a second, and then teasingly add, "except for maybe you." 

He laughs good naturedly knowing I'm simply teasing. 

I leave, hoping the other prisoners found the information and exercise helpful. It feels great to use some of my previous business experience to help others find their own way to success. It feels great to know that I might have even a little part in helping these men turn the pages in their lives to something positive, productive, and different than their pasts. 

How a Simple Smile Can Go a Long Way in Prison

 

Recently, as I descended a stairway in my housing unit, a staff member waited for me to pass before ascending. As I walked past and excused myself, this staff member looked me in the eyes, smiled, and asked, "How're you doing?"  I responded with a smile and said, "Good, thank you," and made my way past. But, I'm still thinking about this encounter, several days later. It was such a simple, unremarkable encounter--except it was wasn't so unremarkable.  I have been incarcerated now for fourteen and a half years. During that time, I have been nothing more than a number and a file of information to most staff members. Of course, there have been and still are exceptions. When staff members get to know me, most are cordial enough, and a few are at least superficially friendly and conversational.   However, it's rare when a staff member I have never spoken to treats me like a human being. I am a number, a statistic, and a prison commodity they have to house, secure, and occasionally engage with. Rarely am I a person with hopes, dreams, and dignity.  It strikes me as incredibly sad and troubling that a simple human gesture like smiling and engaging in pleasantries should be so remarkable. I'm realizing how starved I am for basic human relationship norms. Of course, I experience these things with other prisoners, but it feels profoundly different coming from a person in authority. I've been conditioned to feel less than human to them.  I also recognize that I have been conditioned to keep staff members and officers at arms length. There's some wisdom in that practice given the power imbalance between us, but it takes something away from my humanity too. It creates suspicion and erects barriers.  No relationships in prison are "normal," whether due to the power imbalance between staff and prisoners or due to the transience of prisoner relationships. But it's remarkable to me how such a little thing as a smile and a pleasantry can have such a profound impact.  So, put down your phone, look around you, and find someone to smile and greet warmly. You never know how much of a difference it can make.

Prisoner Fears Consequences of His Prison Behavior

"It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt."

I'm not sure where that saying originated, but it couldn't be more true than in prison. Prison is not a playground in any way, despite society's perception that we're in here just playing games all day. Yes, we can play chess, checkers, cards, or other games, and some do more than others. But prison is also not a place to just let loose and have fun. 

Some prisoners have not learned this important lesson, and they play too much. They joke around, play around, aren't serious when they need to be...and it comes back to bite them. They joke with the wrong person and get punched, or they treat rules like they don't apply to them and get punished. 

This weekend, I heard a prisoner who is in segregation bemoaning his lot. He is in the "hole" pending transfer to a higher security level. He's not a dangerous prisoner, but he doesn't think the rules apply to him. He earns a misconduct but refuses to do his sanctions (loss of privileges, including yard time). As a result, he earns another ticket for violating his sanctions. He continues this cycle, over and over, stacking up misconducts, all for small infractions. But his intractability became a problem for staff. 

Now, this prisoner is about to ship out to a level four prison, where the daily dangers he will face, especially as a skinny, young white guy, will multiply exponentially. Yet, he's trying to convince himself that if he just "mean mugs" other prisoners (acts tough), they'll leave him alone. Sadly, he's in for a rude awakening. 

The reality is that this prisoner is likely to draw more attention to himself by acting tough, but he has already proven he doesn't have the social awareness or maturity to know how to navigate prison. What translates now into lack of concern for prison rules will show up as lack of concern for his bunkie and prisoner-enforced "rules." Misconduct tickets will be the least of his concern. 

Unfortunately, some prisoners require a significant wake up call to begin changing their behavior. For some of us, simply coming to prison was enough of a wake up call. The shock of loss and separation from all we love jolted us into changing our direction. Others, like this young prisoner, require a bit more persuasion. 

I wish that I had listened to the many warning signs and corrections God was giving me so I didn't end up in prison, but apparently I was as hard-headed as this young prisoner. I'm grateful that God has not removed His grace from my life but has, instead, turned me away from my foolishness and pointed me in the right direction. Life is too precious to waste, locked away from those I love. 

Mitosis of a Cell Block: Division in Prison.

Mitosis is the process whereby the nucleus of a cell divides into multiple cells. It's a fascinating process that includes an early step where chromosomes are pulled to the "poles" of the cell.  You're probably thinking, "What the heck is this nerd saying? And what does it have to do with prisons?!" When I was thinking recently about mitosis (I saw it included in a presentation), it occurred to me that mitosis happens in social situations too. God knows our country is deeply divided right now. It shows up in many ways, but especially in politics, race, crime, and other social situations. I like to call this, Social Mitosis.  Prison is a total institution, yes, a sort of social anomaly in the greater social order. But it's not really that much different than the rest of the world. We, too, experience social mitosis. We are pulled to polar opposites like everyone else. We're a mix of people from different social, religious, and economic backgrounds, and though we all share association with the criminal justice system, our value systems are often very different.  Prison has politically conservative folks, and political liberals. Surprisingly, some staunchly conservative prisoners even parrot, from within prison, conservative talking points about being tough on crime. And because of their own incarceration, others support any agenda that will help them potentially leave prison early, regardless of the sense of the policy. Clearly, prisoners are pulled to differing ideologies too.  Social mitosis, or division, is even seen in categories like, cities of origin, gang affiliations, race (a big one!), and crime types. Just because we all wear blue and orange doesn't mean we believe the same things or hold the same values. It also doesn't mean we all band together to fight for causes that affect us.  In fact, I've noticed that there are three primary types of prisoners, when it comes to our response to our environment. Two are, perhaps not surprisingly, polar opposites.  Some prisoners, probably the vast majority, are The Apathetic. These prisoners are resigned to whatever happens to them, engaging almost not at all with any form of political or prison advocacy. They never write grievances, though they will often complain about their conditions.  The polar opposite is The Agitator. These prisoners are the radicals who find flaws in everything within prison, and they are loud about their complaints. These prisoners file many grievances and sometimes lawsuits, and they are often thorns in the sides of prison administrators. Not surprisingly, many of these prisoners have long sentences (including Life). Agitation is a reaction to their conditions.  The final type of prisoner is The Advocate. This is a small minority within prison who works to educate other prisoners, selectively writes grievances, and works to establish and maintain constructive relationships with other advocates outside of prison. (Incidentally, this type doesn't fit into social metaphor of mitosis, but I never claimed to be a biologist!) These categories aren't perfect, of course, and sometimes people change categories or are somewhere on the spectrum between them. But wherever they sit, it's fascinating to observe how people react or respond to their environments. If prisons were more transparent, I'm sure sociologists would have a field day studying human behavior in prison.  I doubt sociologists would find much to surprise them, though. Prisoners are much like the rest of the country appears to be: restlessly apathetic, and often polarized in social groupings.  I doubt if my coined term, Social Mitosis, will catch on. But it sure looks like whether in prison or out, humans are determined to be drawn to polar opposites from each other. It's too bad our division is cancerous and not life-giving.

 

National Tragedy Reminds Us of the Terror Among Us

 On the recent twenty-second anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, other prisoners and I reminisced with my prison supervisor about where we were when we heard the devastating news. It was a bit shocking to realize that some of the prisoners around me were not even *alive* when the twin towers fell. They know nothing of America before terrorism became a household word. They've never lived in an America naively free of hatred for American ideals.

The tragedy that struck America on 9/11 changed America forever. It injected a fear that drives politics, resulting in the loss of privacy and freedoms for Americans. We exchanged freedoms for a sense of security. The 9/11 tragedy forever altered our lives. 

As I reflect on the shock I felt and the terrible sense of loss I've experienced because of 9/11, it reminds me that crime victims feel these same things in a much more personal way. Crime victims lose their sense of safety, their peace of mind, their ability to sleep, and in some cases their very innocence. 

All Americans have been affected in some way by the 9/11 tragedy, even if we were not personally harmed by the terrorist attacks. But millions of Americans have experienced earth shattering events that harmed them personally. They have lived through their own terror, have watched their own towers of safety and security crumble. 

I hate that I have ever, in any way, contributed to the devastating consequences of crime. I hate that I have been responsible for blowing up anyone's sense of safety and security. I hate that I have been the cause of anyone learning that the world is not safe. I don't need an infamous calendar date to remind me, though. Every day I wake up in prison is a reminder that I was the terror that blew up some people's worlds. 

We ought to honor those whose lives were devastated by the 9/11 attacks, but let's also not forget those who live among us whose lives have been devastated by terror they've experienced a little closer to home.

Getting Their Pound of Flesh--Prison Medical "Services" as Punishment

 I'm grateful I have not had a lot of need for medical attention since I've been in prison. I've had stitches once (solo injury from a failed "box jump"), surgery once (appendicitis), and a heart scare about a year ago (turned out to be anxiety). Otherwise, I've only had to utilize the prison medical services for annual checkups (which consists of measly BP, temp, and weight checks) and attempts to get proper allergy meds (refused).

Of all the "services" in prison, though, medical services are the most criticized, and for good reason. Michigan's prison medical services are sorely lacking even the most basic quality. Furthermore, they are often sued for medical deliberate indifference. It's no wonder with the horror stories I've heard. 

Occasionally, though, medical staff are kind, responsive, and helpful, but this is not the norm. Instead, prison medical services are fraught with many challenges and problems, including:

1. Putting profits before people
Michigan outsources its medical services, which they pay on a contract basis. Whatever the provider saves in expenses is additional profit for the provider. This puts profits over people and care becomes secondary. If a treatment can be denied, it guarantees to save the provider money, at least in the short term. 

2. An unhealthy population
Prisoners have a higher than average rate of disease and mental health challenges. Treatments for Hepatitis C, for example, are extremely expensive, as are medications for other chronic conditions that require treatment. Prison food notoriously lacks nutrition (including commissary food), so the prison population cannot change its diet to naturally combat (or avoid!) conditions like diabetes. They must be medicated. 

3. An entrenched bureaucracy
Malingering (faking an illness) is likely more common among the prison population than the general public. High rates of addiction lead to prisoners seeking medications they may not need in order to itch the addiction scratch. As a result, and probably to enhance profits, the process for getting necessary treatment in prison is arduous. The provider's policy is that prisoners must see a nurse three times before seeing a physician's assistant or doctor. This policy sometimes weeds out malingerers, but it also forces unnecessary medical visits and delays needed treatment. 

Recently, I have had severe back pain due to a strained muscle. I do not know the cause of the strain, but I have seen a nurse twice now about the problem. Both times, I was told to do stretches that I've already been doing for months, and to continue to use heat packs using a homemade heat pack since they will not provide me one. On my second visit, I was told I would have to see the nurse once more before I can see the doctor, despite not even being physically examined on either visit by nurses. 

I do not have a history of drug abuse, and I expressed a desire to avoid pain medication as much as possible. But even low cost interventions, like a hot pack, a detail for an extra mat for my bunk, or a chiropractor visit are dismissed out of hand. Instead, I must see a nurse three times (even if that visit consists of "Are you still having pain? Okay, we'll see you again next week...") before I can even see a PA or doctor. 

I'm in pain, but I'm not likely dying. Imagine what prisoners who are suffering from cancer and other terminal illnesses experience! Who ever thought that a prison sentence might literally require a pound of flesh?

Michigan's Prison Good Time Ballot Initiative Needs Your Help!

Several pieces of legislation have been introduced this legislative term to bring back some form of good time to Michigan's prison system. As the only state in the union with no form of good time or sentence reductions and with the highest average prison sentence of any state, it's time for Michigan to act! However, the legislature has continued to drag its feet on these bills, which are all currently still sitting in committee. 

The prisoner advocacy organization, Michigan Justice Advocacy (MJA), has been educating and advocating to legislators about good time options, but now it's time for the People to act!

MJA has already proposed and had approved language for a ballot initiative to bring the issue of good time to Michigan voters. August 1st, MJA began their drive to collect the required 356,958 signatures to include the ballot initiative on the ballot in November. This drive for signatures is a HUGE undertaking, so we need all hands on deck. 

To make things easier for everyone, MJA has created two instructional videos so an army of signature collectors can participate in properly gathering the required signatures. I am asking my readers to take the 15-20 minutes to watch these instructional videos, to print the signature collection forms (on legal size paper), and to commit to filling at least ONE form to turn in towards the signature totals. 

Start by going to gtballot2023.org and watch the two videos. 

MJA will give you further instructions on how to collect signatures accurately (very important!), and where to turn in completed forms. 

There is a limited time requirement to collect the full number of signatures, so we need all hands on deck as quickly as possible. Please join us in this important endeavor! It's time for the people of Michigan to demonstrate its political power. You can help make a rousing statement to lawmakers that Michigan will no longer support the status quo--a severely overcrowded and understaffed prison industry.

Thank you, on behalf of Michigan's prisoners, for taking the time to care about this important issue! 

If You Wanted to Sleep, You Shouldn't Have Come to Prison

The hum of conversation permeates the housing unit, like a steady buzz of an active beehive. It reminds me, in an odd way, of the noise of a busy shopping mall at Christmas time. (Do shopping malls even still exist?) Yet, the steady hum is pierced by the occasional shout. 

"Meech! Fourth gallery! Meech!" a prisoner hollers up to a buddy from the base. 

A conversation ensues, shouted back and forth, over the heads of people sitting at tables on base, totally disregarding the conversations occurring around these prisoners. It's as if the shouting prisoners exist in a world of their own, totally oblivious to anyone else around them. It's just one more example of the gross disrespect of others that exists in prison. 

The drone of conversation continues, and at the table directly in front of and beneath my cell two prisoners play chess. "CHECK!" one shouts at the other, taunting him with a steady stream of verbal chest beating. I'm beginning to wonder if this game is a game of mental strategy or a test of virility. I think I've been grossly misled all this time to believe chess was a contemplative game. 

My attention shifts to the men in the hole (segregation) directly across from my cell. Several of them carry on competing conversations through the bars. 

"What they gunna do with you?!"
"Hey Streets!?"

"Huh?"
"Who called me?"

"What they gunna do with you?"
"Yo! It's me! You know that house on the corner of East and Main?"

"Huh?"
"Hell yeah! I used to get with the b*h that lived there!"

"I said, what they gunna do with you? Are they transferring you or are you stayin' here?"
"That's my cousin! Real s*t! When were you with her?"

The warring conversations escalate in volume as each party tries to outdo the other conversations around them. 

It's after 8 PM, so I've already made my way to my cell. I know my ability to tolerate stupidity is significantly impaired the later it gets at night, so I stay in my cell for the most part. I'm trying to tune out the noise through the open bars with music or the drone of the news through my headphones.  

Sometimes, I can lose myself in a book or in writing an email, but often I struggle to tune out the cacophony of noise around me. Soon, it'll be time to sleep (for me), and I'm praying it'll be a quiet night in the unit. Since the hole has filled up a week ago, we haven't had a quiet night. I've had to sleep with earplugs in every night, just to cut down on some of the noise. It only partially works. 

Soon, the lights in the housing unit are turned off, leaving only the glare of emergency lights, strategically placed to shine directly into some of our cells. The droning of conversation quiets, but the men in the hole, who have been sleeping most of the day, are just getting started. Some start rapping or singing loudly, others holler back and forth about a TV show or memories from the block. I cover my eyes and attempt to sleep with a sigh. 

I must have finally drifted off to sleep, but my bladder wakes me in the middle of the night. Finally! The loud conversations have ceased, but a few men still talk from cell to cell, though with more restraint. It's 2 AM. What are they still doing awake?! 

I lie back down to return to sleep, but someone in a cell near me is playing their screamer music loudly through their headphones. It's surprisingly loud for the size of headphones we can order. Why must I listen to someone else's music when I'm trying to sleep?! It's the middle of the freakin' night! I mumble some choice descriptors for the offending prisoner, but he's probably sleeping right through his own auditory pollution. 

Bleary eyed, I wake up again three hours later. It's time for me to get ready for work, even though I've slept fitfully. And wouldn't you know it?! The guy's music is still playing loudly through his headphones. There's no consideration from this jerk! Other men wake up equally grumpy from the noise pollution, and some call out choice words to the offender. Of course, he stays silent, either sleeping or too cowardly to admit he's been responsible for keeping people awake most of the night. 

I think about taking a nap later in the day to make up for the sleep I lost that night, but I already know I'll have to put up with noise then too. It'll be the middle of the day, and with a unit of around 350 prisoners, a few disrespectful men are bound to think they are the only people in the unit who matter. Whoever thought prisoners just got to sleep all the time has never been to a prison like the one where I'm currently housed. 

I know, I know. If I wanted to sleep, I shouldn't have come to prison. 

What's Your Excuse? - Why People Commit Crimes

 "Twinkies made me do it!" 

Such was the defense of a man in 1978 who pleaded temporary insanity after shooting the San Francisco mayor and the city supervisor. The man insisted that his diet of junk food had caused temporary insanity. This type of defense became so common that it garnered the name, the "Twinkie defense." 

It's still rather common for people to use excuses to minimize their culpability in committing crime. The challenge is, how can the courts consider mitigating circumstances, which do factor into a person's psyche and motivations, without excusing their behavior?  

Twinkies and sugar-rich diets do not make people homicidal or violent. But unhealthy diets are often correlated with other social factors that do contribute to a person's criminality. Other factors, too, like youthfulness, childhood abuse, and mental illness, are other important social factors to consider.

Unfortunately, our society seems to be of two minds when it comes to the impact of social factors on human behavior. 

One group, commonly thought of as "progressive" or "liberal," views people as passive recipients and byproducts of environmental and social pressures. This approach reduces human agency. Instead of being humans responsible for our own choices, we are simply reactive to outside influences. In other words, the Twinkie made me do it! 

Another group, commonly thought of as "conservative," views people as economically driven "calculators." Social factors are not responsible for our choices. Instead, we make cost/benefit analyses. Humans commit crime when the benefits outweigh the costs (punishment). Therefore, greater punishments will lead to less crime. In other words, humans are all a bunch of criminals who are only restrained by the risk of severe punishment. 

Of course, neither group is right, and I dare say that the majority of Americans fall somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. Rarely do people actually believe Twinkies lead to criminal behavior. And rarely do people believe only fear of punishment restrains anarchy. After all, most people believe they have some level of morality that guides their behaviors. 

The reality is that humans are moral agents, capable of discerning between right and wrong (even if imperfectly). But sometimes our moral agency is warped, by social influences, by internal justifications, or by a myriad of other factors. We ought not discount these factors, but neither should they excuse criminal behavior. To do so is to diminish human agency, and therefore, human dignity. 

Only an approach to criminal justice that honors human dignity and moral agency by addressing the need for responsibility and repentance will work. Punishments for crime ought to factor in responsibility and make a way for repentance and restoration. This is the aim of restorative justice. 

Sadly, our current criminal justice system is in a battle of worldviews. On one hand, the culture calls for more mercy by wrongly assigning blame to social forces. Mob theft rings, for example, are excused based on "economic insecurity" among the wrongdoers. On the other hand, the culture calls for more severe punishments to diminish the cost of the benefits of crime. Recidivists (repeat offenders), for example, are hit with severe mandatory prison sentences, even for minor crimes. 

True justice honors human dignity by requiring responsibility for one's behavior, but it also aims for mercy and restoration whenever possible. It aims for addressing the moral breakdown that leads to criminal behavior rather than thinking that punishment alone will fix a person's moral breakdown. It won't. 

If we really want to be a just society, we have to hold people accountable, to honor their dignity as moral agents. But we also have to actually work towards and encourage moral agents to make morally good decisions. And we have to stop blaming the Twinkies. 

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"Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. Those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience." ~ C. S. Lewis ("The Humanitarian Theory of Punishment")
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(Ideas adapted from "How Now Shall We Live?" by Charles Colson, 1999, Tyndale Publishing, pp. 181-182 )