This and That This Past Week

Little things happen in here that when placed against the backdrop of “outside living” show how screwy prison life really is.



Prison is all about rules. There is a tension between the COs and the inmates over interpretation and enforcement of “the rules”. Inmates skirt them as best we can; officers look the other way (sometimes) or bust guys over the head.


The other day “Rock” – a vocational aide, was busted, sent to the hole and fired, all within about ten minutes time. His crime? He was caught listening to music CDs on his work computer. Rock was heading up the boulevard to work when he was pulled down by “13”. 13 is the number for the officer on boulevard duty. Every building, every location has a number to direct officers over the radio. Every inmate knows every code number as well.


This day, “13” was a real a—hole of an officer. As he patted down Rock, he discovered the CDs. Inmates are not allowed personal items not related to their jobs outside the building. 13 tells Rock to take the CDs back to his building; Rock tells 13 to go have relations with his mother. 13 calls the investigator. He goes to Rock’s desk in the classroom, sees the CDs and proceeds to haul Rock to the hole.


Here’s the thing. Every vocational aide has music loaded at work (things are different for academic aides). Rock forgot who he was dealing with. Most COs don’t sweat little stuff. 13 that day was one of the COs here who likes to throw their weight around. In a battle between officers and inmates, inmates almost always lose.


Officers and inmates hate paper pushers. There are some guys here who are notorious for “dropping paper” on everything. As I tell guys I work with, you have to pick your battles. Every day in here you face a set of illogical rules and regulations specifically in place to keep you contained and, in many ways, break your identity.


DOC lost a major censorship case a few months ago. As a result, inmates can now receive books and magazines paid for by friends and family. It used to be that every purchase had to go through property with about six different forms. I found ways back then to beat the system. My biggest way to “work around” DOC rules? I treat the officers with respect. I’m polite. Same with Big S and most of the guys I know.


Now, I get called to property (no paperwork filed) and the female officer says “Honey, looks like someone’s suprisin’ you with books.” But, not so for “breast pump” (called that because he has man boobs and insists on walking around in tank tops).


“Breast pump” is notorious for “dropping paper”. Anytime things don’t go his way, he sends in a grievance. He’s so bad about it, and considers himself “above the inmates” that one day Big S asked him “What’s your state number?” When BP gave it, Big S looked at him and said “So, you have a number just like everyone else.” The ironic thing about BP is, he’s in here for getting his eight year old stepdaughter to perform oral sex on him. He’s been persecuted (so he thinks); the rest of the guys in here are just scum.


COs hate paperwork. They have to respond and most COs, like most inmates, can’t write a simple sentence to save their lives. BP is a pain in their backsides. He files paper – they make his life miserable.


Breast Pump’s mom sent him books. Property won’t give them to him until he files “the proper forms”. As the officer told him “No request form, no books”. He’s pissed. He asked me what he should do. I told him, tongue in cheek, “file a grievance”.


The great fight in here last week proved once again that most inmates, for all their talk about hating snitches, will run their mouths to cover their own butts in a blink of an eye. Both guys were at fault. An argument turned into punches and BAM “Man” connects with a multiple combination to G’s face leaving it a bloody mess.


Fighting is usually a 200 series charge. Small penalty (10 days in the hole plus loss of visits). But, an assault is a 100 series (raised security level, removed from compound, loss of good time, possible street charges). You get in a fight you take the 200. That’s the rule – not for G. He wasn’t even to the hole before he told the investigator he was “minding his own buness” when he was jumped by Man. Result? G’s back in the barbershop working and Man is heading to a level 3 facility. Loyalty is in short supply, whether it be prison, marriage or just friendship. You find someone who will stick it out, “for better or worse”, and you hold on to them dearly.


G is a rat. Period. I knew the day I was arrested, it’s better to accept the blame yourself than spread it around. Every day you have to watch yourself in here for guys who will curry favor with the COs by talking. The system creates that mentality and it’s one of the worst things about prison.


Then there’s shopping. I had to order a new pair of running shoes. I kept the old pair over a year. “On the street”, I’d buy two new pair of $100 Asics every four months. In here, a $50 pair of Nike's does the trick. Making $54 a month, having 5% withheld (under a new state law requiring every inmate withhold that amount for court fines and restitution); 10% to savings and tithing 10% to a church, doesn’t leave me much. I’ve decided to get real boots, a pair of Levis, a denim shirt and a winter coat to replace the threadbare things DOC provides. Total cost: just under $300.


Back before my arrest I’d spend $300 in a day. I’d give my wife $1000 to go shopping with her friends; $200 for groceries at an upscale grocery; $100 to my son “for the weekend”. It will take over a year to get my clothes.


Money means something different in here. Now it’s to supplement a bland, poor diet and to get a few comforts of “outside living”. Things I used to take for granted – like a pair of Levis or Timberland boots – now matter. It’s an interesting way to learn the value of things.


I saw on the news this morning that a college kid was arrested at the Richmond airport for protesting TSA’s new aggressive pat down policy. He stripped down to nothing but running shorts. On his chest and back he wrote the words to the Fourth Amendment which says we are free from unreasonable searches. I found his protest encouraging, but misplaced.


After every visit I am subject to a strip search to make sure I’m not carrying any contraband. Every day going in and out of school, I’m subjected to pat downs. Leaving chow there is a random pat down.


Twice a year the investigators come in and shake us down and strip search everyone. You are subject to random drug screens with an officer standing directly beside you watching you urinate. Random locker checks happen each week.


It’s amazing what you learn to live with, including the loss of basic privacy and simple dignity. As I said before, I applaud the young man’s courage for challenging the TSA pat down. Yet, I expect this young man has a cell phone, a Facebook page, an email account. He probably uses credit cards. All these things allow someone to track you, invade your personal space.


In here I never have privacy. I use the bathroom in front of 95 other guys; same with the showers.


Privacy and freedom are wonderful concepts. I’ve realized how precious they are having lived in this environment. I’ve also come to realize folks “outside” don’t realize how little privacy and freedom they actually have.


Every week in here reinforces little pieces of the prison puzzle. Every week teaches me something I hadn’t given much thought to before my arrest. Every week offers a little more of this and that.