Graduation Day

Yesterday forty-one men, convicted felons, failures, losers, refuse; graduated Southside Virginia Community College.  In a ceremony conducted by the college with four members of the House of Delegates present, a dozen senior administrators from DOC, the Assistant Director of the State Council of Higher Education, the head of the Department of Correctional Education and 150 to 200 family members and friends, these forty-one men were conferred degrees and program certificates.  I have been incarcerated over three and one-half years.  Yesterday was the first day I felt joy, true joy, as I contemplated my experience in prison.  It was a day I felt truly blessed and loved by God who has opened my eyes to so much.  It was an extraordinary day.

The day before graduation I was in an IT class with a wonderful professor.  Class had concluded and I was busy packing and recharging the students’ laptops and preparing the room for that evening’s American History class.  The instructor – a woman I have worked with for over a year – was packing up her satchel.  We were talking about her son – a senior at Virginia Tech – and the students, gauging how they were doing.

Ms. T looked at me and spoke.  “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I remember when you were arrested, how do you remain so upbeat?” She asked, not in an accusatory or morbidly fascinating way, but in a caring way.  And I told her briefly about the struggles in jail, receiving, the pain and regret of my divorce.  But, for some reason - and I’m not even sure why – I said “I think God’s been trying to tell me something.”

Ms. T’s smile broadened.  “Oh Larry.  Do you know why I love teaching here?  My faith tells me I’ve sinned.  I’m no better than any of these men in here.  I have to be merciful.  We’re all God’s children.  He’s blessed me with this teaching opportunity.”

Graduation Day.  Usually mornings in the building are quiet and slow.  There’s a small morning “crew” - Craig, Saleem, DC, Mike and me – who are up around 4:00 and maneuver through the showers, iron shirts, and the like all before 6:00.  But, this day was different.  By 5:30 the building was alive, every shower, every sink in use.  Guys were six deep for the iron.  Everyone wanted to look their best.

And there was some disconcert in the building.  The graduation, originally scheduled for December, had been moved to January to accommodate the Governor’s schedule.  The Governor, who regularly talks of offender re-entry as a cornerstone of his administration, suddenly “remembered” the General Assembly was in session.  He was too busy with the legislation to drive out.  And, if the Governor was too busy, so were his Director of Public Safety and his Director of Corrections.  Governor McDonnell, it seemed, could take time out of his schedule to endorse Mitt Romney for Republican candidate for President.  He couldn’t spare a few moments for the incarcerated.

At 8:30, the call came across the intercom, “college graduation participants head to program building”.  The 4A and 4B doors popped and off we went; forty or so men heading down the boulevard and around to the visitation room and gym.  The soon to be graduates headed to the library to dress in their caps and gowns and hoods.  Craig, DC and I headed to the VI room to help Ms. C, our principal, and the woman who along with her husband, Dr. C – President of Southside Community College – had dreamt of this program and this day and by their determination secured the grant and the blessings of the powers that be to make the college dream a reality. 

The three of us got to VI expecting the hassle, the pat down, the sneers of the shift officers assigned to clear us.  That wasn’t what we got.  The dayshift captain was there.  Normally a stern, abrupt officer, he was relaxed.  “Let’s get these fellows in”, he said and his officers gave a light pat down.

We helped assemble our grads in the VI room as dozens of family members and friends of the grads walked passed heading to the gym for seats.  I saw Big S’s brother step through the door with his daughter who gave a big wave to her daddy in his cap and gown.  Faculty from the college joined us and began putting their academic regalia on.  Photos of the class were taken.  And, promptly at 10:00, the processional began.

The sound system began the pre-recorded strains of the theme from “Chariots of Fire”.  I love the movie and the music.  For those not familiar with it, “Chariots of Fire” was an Academy Award winning movie based on the life and friendship of two of England’s greatest runners before the First World War.  One, Eric Liddell, was the son of Protestant Missionaries.  He was a beautiful gifted runner who moved with grace and fluidity.  Asked by a reporter to explain his running ability Liddell simply said “God smiles when I run.”  I think of those five simple words often, how when we do the seemingly effortless things, when we are both relaxed and focused, God smiles, knowing we sense the gift He’s given.

And so it was with our graduation.  On a morning which began with wind and rain, the sky cleared, the sun shone, the graduates proceeded forward and I felt God indeed smiled.  The ceremony was brief:  one hour.  DOC’s Regional Director, an early forties soft spoken black man, told the students Harold Clarke – the Department Director – believes in education for prisoners and, more importantly, believes in second chances.  And then came the conferring of degrees and certificates.  Each man stepped forward and received his diploma.  The academic aides were then called forward individually to receive recognition.  A photographer snapping photos, family members applauding, it was a real graduation; for those moments there was no “campus behind walls”. 

At the conclusion of the ceremony Dr. C rose for a final few words.  In a heartfelt gesture, he thanked the men for making his dream come true.  He reminded them they were unique, “the only program of its kind in America”.  And then he added, “And on Monday we travel to accept the prestigious Bell Award for outstanding innovative program in a community college.”

Recessional and then a meal.  The food?  It was the best meal I’ve had since August 18, 2008.  Provided by the college – and prepared and served by the men working in the prison kitchen – it was simply delicious.  Thick slabs of roast beef, real chicken breast, mashed potatoes, green beans, buttered rolls and salad – yes, fresh greens, cherry tomatoes – with homemade peppercorn ranch; heaping bowls of fresh fruit:  three kinds of grapes, cherries, pineapple, apples, honeydew, cantaloupe.  Plates were piled full and everywhere faculty members ate with the men and their families.

And something altogether unprison-like occurred.  There was no “count”.  The officers merely counted ID cards and then grabbed plates and ate with us.  For those few hours there were no “us” and “them”. There was only “we”.  “We” celebrated the achievements.  “We” felt part of something special.  “We” felt blessed.

A number of the grads asked me to get in pictures with them.  I was introduced to parents and wives and kids and it was always the same.  “This is the man I told you about.  He helped me get through the classes.  I couldn’t have done it without him.”  I felt overjoyed.  I felt blessed to be a part of this experience.  And, I felt God smile.

Later, surveying the room the Regional Director and one of the members of the House of Delegates waved me over.  “Thank you for all your efforts”, the Director told me.  In a polite fashion, I told him the efforts we – the offenders – needed to see from Richmond.  “If you really believe in re-entry, you’ll create incentives – more good time earning – for guys like these who are busting it every day to turn their lives around.  We need early release.”

Surprisingly, the Director agreed with me.  “We do need it Larry.  But this man is who you have to convince.”  The Delegate looked at me then with a smirk said, “And even in this tough economy, the crime rate has dropped.”  “In my humble opinion, and you know the studies as well as I do, sir, your policies have nothing to do with the crime rate.  It’s time Sir that you and the other delegates speak honestly about the prison system”, I responded.

We continued to speak for another fifteen minutes.  “You gave me some things to think about”, the delegate said as we shook hands and parted company.

Later in the afternoon I returned to the building.  I lay on my bunk, and drifted off to sleep.  I dreamt of a time years ago when my family was at Hilton Head.  It was a glorious summer day and we were boating on the Westside of the island.  My wife and sons smiling, sitting back enjoying the warm breezes.  We approached the end of the island and I could see where the Inland Waterway merged with the Atlantic.  And the sun gleamed on the Atlantic and the water appeared to go on forever.  And I looked at the water and felt free, at peace and blessed.

I woke from my dream with my heart full.  I was free.  I was at peace.  I was blessed.

Teaching Assistants

January 17, 2012

Mouse Tales

It got cold here last week, colder than it’s been all fall and winter.  And Lunenburg, like so many other prisons Virginia built during the heyday “money to burn” days of the ‘90s, when “lock em all up” was the mantra, is smack dab in the middle of nowhere.

Virginia State Government sold a number of rural Virginia counties on the idea that putting a prison in your county would generate enormous financial benefits.  Instead of real efforts to attract businesses and improve public services and schools, these counties bought the state’s line and watched as prison after prison went up in little crossroad burgs and villes across the Commonwealth.  But, unlike “Field of Dreams”, after they built it, the only things that came were the hundreds and thousands of convicted felons.  Those who were drug users brought their Hepatitis C and HIV and dozens of other diseases.  Twenty percent brought serious psychiatric and mental health disorders.  And the communities:  They stayed the same:  poor, higher unemployment, higher dropout rates than the metro areas. 

But this isn’t an “I told you so blog”.  I feel empathy for the small towns and rural counties.  I only wish the politicians in Richmond would be honest with them.  Anyway, this is a story about a mouse; and, there’s another story told me by a friend/college student named – coincidentally, “Mouse”.

So it got cold here, real cold.  And Lunenburg is built in the middle of nothing but swampy, low lying fields with acres of hardwood surrounding it.  The place is overrun with field mice.  Going to chow at night you see dozens scurrying across the walks.  The hawks fly overhead looking for that one slow mouse to grab.

The mice, meanwhile, huddle up against the buildings and wait, wait for the door to pop so they can run into the heat and food of the building.  While 4A is a dump to us, to a field mouse it’s a garden, a Garden of Eden.

But, we all know what happened in the Garden of Eden:  Adam and Eve were put out.  And so it goes with the field mice.  Last week, three times we’d see a mouse scurry across the ceiling beams, or out of a sloppy guy’s locker.  The mice take us all in rather nonchalantly.  Not so with some of the hardened cons in here.  I’ve seen “grown ass” men squeal like little girls when a tiny field mouse would run by.  And the female officers?  Couldn’t get ‘em out of the booth while a mouse was loose.

I’m happy to report all three mice were captured and all three were freed.  After all, even convicts, maybe especially convicts, know all God’s creatures deserve to be free.
Then there’s my friend “Mouse”, a pip-squeak little guy I’ve written about before.   Mouse is going home in 60 days, home with an Associate’s degree and admission already to a four year Virginia University.

Mouse used to smoke a lot of weed – before his current ten year bid.  He found a great job, but the employer required a urine sample.  He knew his was dirty, so he asked his fiancé.  “It was cold Larry, real cold, and I’d left it in the car.”  His solution?  Stop at a convenience store and heat the sample in the microwave.

“I left it in too long.  It almost boiled.”  He was headed to work and couldn’t turn in a scorching hot sample so he paced back and forth at the lab facility allowing everyone else to go before him.  Going into the restroom, he poured the sample into the lab container.

“Are you feeling alright sir?” the nurse accepting the sample asked.  “Why you must be burning up.  Your sample is very warm.”

Two weeks pass at work and Mouse is suddenly called into the HR office.  “We have to let you go.”  “Why?” Mouse asked.  “We know you used someone else’s sample.”  Mouse thought for a moment then decided to carry the story forward.

“I can’t believe you’re accusing me of that”, he said with indignation and offense.

“Perhaps we’re being too hasty”, the HR director said. “Oh.  Congratulations.”

“I have the job?” Mouse said.  “No.  You’re expecting.”

I can’t make stuff like this up!

Rethinking Justice

As I sit here this week, one week from the college graduation for our first class of IT certification students, during the same week this nation celebrated a national holiday to honor an icon of the civil rights movement, I thought of Dr. King’s prescient words, “Law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and when they fail in this purpose they become dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress.”  Powerful words; words that should give every American, every Virginian pause, and decide “is it time we rethink our view of justice?”

Early last week former Mississippi Governor Haley Barbour was viciously berated in the media and by political opponents for issuing executive pardons to “murderers and rapists” on his last day in office.  The fact that the U.S. Constitution gives the president and the Mississippi Constitution (and Virginia’s as well) gives the governor the power to modify, amend, or commute any sentence, any conviction, was lost on the critics.  The fact that 189 of the 215 felons pardoned were already out of prison and living in their communities was also lost on the critics.

News pundits blathered on and on misstating facts to suit their ratings drive.

Barbour refused to be baited into the debate.  Instead, he released a statement.  In part, it said the following:

“I am very comfortable with the decisions I made…All this is consistent with the powers given the governor by our constitution…

 My wife and I are evangelical Christians.  Most Mississippians profess to be Christian of some type.  Christianity teaches us forgiveness and second chances.  I believe in second chances and I try hard to be forgiving.   The historic power of gubernatorial clemency is rooted in the Christian idea of giving second chances.  I’m not saying I’ll be perfect, that no one who received clemency will ever do anything wrong.  I’m not infallible, and no one else is.  But I’m very comfortable and totally at peace with these pardons.”

Haley Barbour, a conservative Republican Governor from the heart of the old South made such a simple yet profound case for justice, real justice.  Governor McDonnell would do well to heed the words of Dr. King and Mr. Barbour.  Unfortunately, Virginia’s Governor appears either incapable or unwilling to do what is right.

In a recent story in the Washington Post, Virginia DOC came under scrutiny for its use of solitary confinement.  The Post reported that 44 states and the Federal Bureau of Prisons use solitary confinement yet Virginia – holding almost 2,000 inmates of its 40,000 prisoner population in isolation – accounts for a “sizeable share of the estimated 25,000 people in solitary” around the nation (almost 10%).

And what was Governor McDonnell’s response when this issue was brought to his attention during a recent interview?  He said he was unaware of the complaints.

He then went further, stating “People behind bars have civil rights…”  That’s true, Governor McDonnell.  Yet the prison system you oversee daily violates the rights of those behind bars.  Justice is not an eye for an eye.  Justice does not mean giving the state the power to put an offender in a gladiatorial nightmare with rape, extortion, murder and mayhem circulating around.

As I have noted numerous times in this blog, Virginia’s prison system is a cataclysmic failure.  Justice demands something better. 

Justice it seems is coming to Georgia where its current Governor has proposed sweeping prison reform.

Governor Deal, another Republican, noted that Georgia now spends more than $1 billion a year on state prisons and has seen its inmate population double in the past 20 years (sound familiar, Virginia?).  The state, he argues simply cannot afford to keep the current sentencing regime.  “We’re at a point in time where the necessity for doing something has gotten so big that to turn our head and pretend the problem does not exist is not responsible government.”  I wonder if Governor McDonnell is listening.

In a commission study conducted on behalf of Governor Deal it was found that in Georgia, 60% of the prison admissions represented drug and property offenders; not murderers, rapists or armed robbers.  Simply put, public safety isn’t being enhanced by current sentencing.

The Georgia legislature will vote on changes to save money by using alternatives to prison for non-violent offenders.  Make non-violent offenders accountable but allow them to remain out of prison, taking care of their kids and paying their taxes.  Justice, it appears, is coming to Georgia.

All around the South – South and North Carolina, Kentucky, Texas, Mississippi and Georgia – conservatives, many who are evangelical Christians, are leading the push for a new justice paradigm.  And these politicians’ ranks are growing with GOP candidate Newt Gingrich and former Florida Governor Jeb Bush supporting massive prison overhaul.  And where is Governor McDonnell?  Where is Virginia in this debate?

President Obama recently made news with his last official act in 2011 – signing the National Defense Authorization Act.  This law contains a highly controversial, and suspect, clause which allows the military to indefinitely detain terror suspects, including American citizens arrested in the United States, without charge.

Two retired four-star Marine generals joined GOP Candidate Ron Paul and numerous civil rights organizations to denounce the law, deeming it “misguided and unnecessary” and a threat to America’s constitutionally protected right to due process.  Justice.  The founding fathers included terms such as due process having survived a tyrannical regime who used arrest and detention to stifle dissent.  Protections against unreasonable searches, cruel and inhumane punishment, and the right to trial with counsel, all arose because these men lived, bled and died under the thumb of a corrupt, unjust government.

That some 225 years later this nation must still debate issues of basic, fundamental justice is indeed astounding.  “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”  Dr. King knew well.  The time for rethinking justice is upon us.  Justice – mercy, forgiveness – must flow.

Bob Dylan was right.  The times, they are a changin.  Virginia and Governor McDonnell can lead like Governors Barbour and Deal and states like Georgia and Mississippi.  Justice is not mere enforcement of harsh laws.

Two Ways to Head Out

Two guys left the other day.  One – Randy, our trainer/fitness guru, walked out the front gate after finishing his twelve year bid for cocaine distribution.  He left with an Associate’s Degree in general education and only six credit hours short of his BA in physical education.  He’s a nationally certified personal trainer and already secured employment in the Richmond area with a medical practice’s rehab/health and wellness facility.

In spite of his incarceration, Randy will be fine.  It hasn’t been easy.  His father passed away four months ago.  His older daughter graduated UCLA two years ago without him there to see it.  There were times during his bid when Randy was called to the watch commander’s office and questioned about his workout program.

“Why are twenty guys doin’ lunges in unison?”  They’d ask.  DOC prohibits groups of more than four from gathering – unless its church; then you need five.  Still, Randy honed his skills.  He helped me.  He expanded my workouts from just runs to sprints and stretching, push-ups, pull ups and dips.  I never thought – back before my arrest – that I could knock out 300 or 400 pushups in a series of reps.  Now, its old hat.

Did prison make Randy a better man?  I don’t think so.  In spite of what politicians try and tell you, nothing good goes on in prison.  Change that.  Good does happen inside these walls in spite of the prison environment.
No, Randy just became who he really was deep down.  I read a great deal about faith.  One thing that shows up over and over is the idea that we all face difficulties, we all suffer, we all go through trials.  Our true character is revealed in those struggles.  Do we love and forgive or abandon and conveniently “move on”?  Do we show kindness in the face of anger and hostility or do we lash out?  Do we give up our dreams in the face of despair or do we fight for our future?

No, Randy’s real character was forged in this hell hole, not because of his prison experience, but in spite of it.

Another man left out of here the same day Randy did.  He didn’t go out the front gate to family or friends embracing him.  He went out through the rear gate, the “sally port”, in the back of an ambulance, in a body bag.  He died of a massive heart attack, in the building (6B) at age 50.  The worst part is, it could have been avoided.

The guy, a kitchen worker, complained of radiating pain in his arm and chest as well as shortness of breath.  The “rent-a-doc” on duty told him he was suffering from indigestion and sent him back to his building.  He collapsed, massive coronary.  Nurses came only they didn’t bring the defibrillator – no one mentioned it was a heart attack.
Would it have mattered?  Who knows, but life is cheapened in here.  For all the moral speech about rehabilitation and treatment politicians and DOC administrators spout, the fact is you go to prison and the vast majority of people don’t give a damn.  What’s another dead convict anyway?

Randy made it, in spite of the lousy facilities, poor food and medical care and general deplorable conditions.  Randy’s going home to a new life.  So’s the other guy, just not in the way he expected.

Talking Re-entry (or The Turd in the Punchbowl, Part 2)

Governor McDonnell delivered his “State of the Commonwealth” speech last week to both Houses of the Virginia General Assembly.  As with any political speech, the Governor lacked specifics and spent the vast majority of his words on applauding his own efforts to solve the problems of the Commonwealth, problems that coincidentally haven’t lessoned on his watch.

I dare say, a higher percentage of residents inside our “learning community” watched the Governor’s address than the law-abiding, taxpaying residents outside the wire.  Maybe it’s because we know that just a few words during the speech could make all the difference for the vast majority of us living inside here.  Will he mention earned good time, early release or even – dare I say it – parole?  We watched. 

So we listened, listened as he calls on the delegates to strengthen the Virginia Retirement System, without mentioning his own hand in increasing the funding deficit.  We listen as he calls for more funding for schools and slowing the growth of tuition increases in state colleges and universities all the while knowing he’s willing to continue supporting a prison system that saps over $1 billion annually to hold 40,000 inmates, the majority of whom are nonviolent and low custody offenders, and continues to support and encourage a prison industry system which overcharges state schools and agencies for their products.

We wait and we listen, listen for mention of “corrections”.  And then it comes and we all see the turd in the punchbowl yet again.  Not one word about the absolutely criminal state of Virginia’s prisons.  Not one word about the abysmal 400% growth in inmate population in the last fifteen years or even higher spending increase given DOC over the same fifteen year period so that today one of every eight general fund dollars, $1,133,000,000 in 2013, will be spent on the state’s largest bureaucracy:  DOC and its 13,000 plus employees.

No, instead he said money must be given to cover the expenses necessary to help offenders “re-enter society”.  After all, he noted, “over ninety percent of the incarcerated will be released…”  Throw in a few fibs:  “our program is working.  Crime rates and recidivism are down…” and Governor McDonnell moved on to his next “great” initiative.  And the guys in the building?  They just sat there wondering how anyone with a lick of sense can keep buying the same b.s.

Here’s what the Governor didn’t tell you:  every state is facing a significant financial crisis.  The world economy is in trouble.  The US deficit is now the size of the total economy – meaning cuts must be made.  Friends, we aren’t Greece, not yet anyway.  But we’re headed that way.  There’s less money and state government must get smart with its spending.  Keeping 40,000 men and women locked up is neither smart, nor economically sustainable.  That’s the turd in the punchbowl.  So far, no politician has come forward with the guts to admit it.

As mentioned above, Virginia isn’t alone.  A few weeks ago Kentucky released 1,000 inmates.  Last year Kentucky (and six other states) revamped its sentencing laws to utilize alternatives to prison for most non-violent felons.  And then there’s Oregon.

Oregon is facing a $3.5 billion shortfall in their 2011-13 biennial budgets.  The former Governor (the current Governor also signed on) issued an executive order to re-evaluate “who is sent to prison and for how long”. 

Oregon had to face the realities of a “tough on crime”, versus “smart on crime” approach to incarceration.  Compare their numbers to the abysmal results in Virginia:

-        Since 1987 Oregon DOC expenditures increased 209%.

-        Oregon DOC’s two year budget is $1.36 billion.

-        Oregon’s DOC spending accounts for 53% of its public safety spending and one out of every ten general fund dollars.

-        In the last 20 years, Oregon has doubled the number behind bars, even while the crime rate went down.  Why?  Because of increased sentence length and decreased good time earning.

And to think, Virginia’s numbers are even worse.

But Oregon’s Governor has political courage.  He asked the voters of the state “Have we more than doubled our investment in students over the same period?  Not even close.”  He went on:  “Our long term goal is to invest in people not prisons…”  He vowed to spend resources in a way that keeps dangerous people locked up.  But then said this:

“We have a real dichotomy…locking up more people versus providing our children with a better education.  There is a great imbalance between how we invest in incarceration and how we invest in education…It’s not fair.  And, most of all, it’s not smart.”

And what has Oregon’s experiment with a creative early release program that rewards inmates who actively work to better themselves shown?  As the outgoing Governor noted “reduced prison sentences or alternatives to incarceration are likely to produce the greatest potential public safety cost savings.”

Powerful words, courageous words, words Governor McDonnell should have used in his state of the Commonwealth address.  See, there are politicians who are willing to do the tough work and speak the truth.  Virginia, it appears, isn’t fortunate to have that kind of politician.

Ironically, Bob McDonnell has based his entire criminal justice program on offender re-entry.  The problem is, “imprisonment significantly reduces the ability of ex-offenders to find jobs, costing the US economy an estimated $57 to $65 billion annually in lost economic output.”  That was the finding of a November 2010 Center for Policy Research study.  Re-entry programs aren’t the answer; sending less people to prison is.

And that is the turd in Governor McDonnell’s plans for DOC.  Its high time he or some other Virginia politician – clean up the bowl.

Sentencing (or “The Turd in the Punchbowl” Part 1)

I’ve written numerous times in this blog about sentencing in Virginia and about the systematic failure of “truth in sentencing” as implemented in the Commonwealth. But, people are slow to notice it and even slower to admit it and do something about it.  Perhaps that’s just human nature.  We want to believe our laws are fair.  We want to have easy, rational explanations for everything.  So, politicians tell us truth in sentencing reform was long overdue and has directly led to lower crime rates and more uniform (albeit substantially longer) sentences.  “Great!” You say.  All is right with the world.  “You go over to the punchbowl to lift a celebratory toast to the power of our way of life, good old representative democracy, and you run face first into reality:  someone spiked the punch with a turd and it’s floating in the bowl for all the world to see.

“Conventional wisdom” – lovely term isn’t it – tries to correlate lower crime rates with tougher sentencing.  However, study after study (both university and Department of Justice) find there is no such correlation.  No one ever avoided committing a crime because of the perceived risk of lengthy incarceration.  In fact, what all this “get tough” approach may have done is make us a nation of convicts.

It was recently reported that over 23% of all young people between the ages of 18 and 24 will have arrest records.  The United States currently has the highest per capita incarceration rate in the world (number behind bars per 100,000) and the largest prison population.  We exceed even China and the combined totals of North Korea, Iran, Syria and all the other “terror states”.  Combining federal and state prisons and jails there are approximately 2.5 million people behind bars.  That’s almost one percent of the nation’s population.  Add to that the eight million plus who have felony convictions (a sizeable number of whom are under “community corrections”, i.e. probation or parole).  That’s three percent of America.  Not since England figured out shipping all their convicts to Australia would solve their prison problem, has one nation had such a large percentage of felons.

“Truth in Sentencing” reform was supposed to take away disparity in sentences.  It didn’t matter where in Virginia (or any state for that matter; they all adopted the “truth in sentencing” commission recommendations) you committed your offense, penalties would be the same.  Great concept, only it didn’t work.

This week the Richmond Times-Dispatch reported on a 72 year old Richmond attorney who was sentenced to three years for embezzling in excess of $1 million from individuals during his handling of real estate transactions since 2005.  He made no restitution.  His attorney – coincidentally the same lawyer who handled my case – had asked for a suspended sentence.  The paper reported the defendant “cooperated fully” and “expressed deep regret”.  The Henrico County Circuit Judge presiding over his case (coincidentally, I was held in the Henrico county Jail after being denied bond.  I was deemed a flight risk.  He wasn’t.) gave the three year term as a “fair punishment” for his wrongdoing.

My case was heard less than twenty miles west.  I embezzled slightly over $2 million and made immediate restitution of almost $600,000.  The Commonwealth Attorney noted my “complete cooperation” (his words at my sentencing) and the state’s own forensic psychiatrist, in a report to the court, indicated I was profoundly remorseful and that prison time would serve neither a punitive nor rehabilitative purpose.  So what did the Judge in my case do?  He gave me fifteen years.

I don’t begrudge the Henrico defendant getting three years.  I don’t begrudge the Norfolk bookkeeper being sentenced to four years in a $2.1 million embezzlement case.  I do question the integrity of the system and I do submit that my sentence was excessive and unjust and shows the hypocrisy of “truth in sentencing”.  You will never hear me say I didn’t deserve to be incarcerated.  In fact, I will freely admit sending me to prison was justified – not given other similarly situated embezzlement defendants or the average sentence for child sex abusers.

And then there is GOP Presidential candidate Ron Paul.  Paul reminds me of the old, cranky guy in my neighborhood when I was growing up. He was regimented and serious about everything.  He’d give stern warnings about things and we’d laugh and tell ourselves he was crazy.  As we aged we all realized he was wiser than any of us hoped to be.

On the eve of last week’s New Hampshire primary, Paul – during a candidates’ debate – was asked by Moderator George Stephanopoulos about questions that had recently surfaced concerning alleged racist comments in a 1980’s newsletter that bore his name.
As USA Today columnist DeWayne Wickham noted in an op-ed piece last Wednesday (1/11/2012), Paul said questions about what he wrote or knew about that long ago diverts attention away from the “true racism” in the nation’s judicial system that “disproportionately imprisons blacks for their involvement in crimes…”  The questioner, the other candidates, the audience itself sat in numbed silence.  Congressman Paul had pointed out the turd in the punch bowl.

In 2010, 69% of all people arrested in the United States were white.  Blacks accounted for 28% of the arrests.  These percentages were relatively constant the entire decade.  During the same ten year period, approximately twice as many whites as blacks were arrested each year for drug crimes.  Despite this, Virginia’s inmate population is disproportionately black and poor.  I learned early on I was in the minority in more ways than one.  I’m white, which means I make up only about 35% of the inmate population.  And of the white men locked up, most are in for sex offenses, primarily child sex crimes and child pornography (and almost all are serving substantially shorter sentences than me).

That disparity in incarceration rates shows a lack of justice in the criminal justice system.  As I’ve written over and over in this blog, America’s criminal justice system, Virginia’s criminal justice system, is badly flawed and in need of dramatic overhaul.

You want real justice; begin with admitting there’s a problem.  Don’t just silently stand by while the turd floats in the punchbowl.  It’s time for change, real systematic change:  colorblind sentences that actually bring about restorative justices, and prisons – when needed – where actual rehabilitation and restoration takes place.

Funny Money

Funny thing about politics.  Voters are told what they want to hear so they feel good about their elected representatives.  Then, reality smacks them in the face.  Things aren’t the way they were told.  Voters get angry.  “Throw the bums out!”  They yell.  Except they keep voting for the same people, the same folks who told you everything is wonderful.

Governor McDonnell’s budget is full of false promises and misstatements.  Just look at DOC spending.  The Governor’s budget proposal indicates that there are plenty of beds available in DOC.  “Numbers are down, bed space is up…”  Yet, in 2013 and 2014 spending for DOC increases…substantially.

Governor McDonnell has pronounced higher education spending a major priority.  In his budget remarks, McDonnell details the dramatic rise in tuition costs for Virginia’s colleges and universities and labels these costs unacceptable.  Middle-class Virginia families are being squeezed out of college opportunities due to the staggering cost of getting a degree.  “Something must be done”, he argues.  Good point.

So why then, does the Governor oversee and encourage a prison-industrial complex that directly leads to increased public university spending?  I refer to VCE and their exclusive sales arrangements with Virginia’s state university system.

VCE – “Virginia Corrections Enterprises” – operates slave-wage factories (fifty-five to eighty cents an hour) where various furniture and clothing are manufactured.  At Lunenburg, VCE manufactures furniture.  Manufacture may overstate it.  Pre-cut wood and plastic arrive here for assembly.  A crew of sewers and upholsterers make cushions for the furniture.  These men work in deplorable conditions.  During the summer temperatures exceed 100°.  There are no air-conditioning or fans allowed.  On job injury?  The worker is suspended, without pay.

Who buys this furniture?  Virginia’s state-supported colleges and universities are required to purchase their dorm furnishings and office furniture from VCE and VCE charges substantially higher than market value.  In other words, the school could buy the same furniture from a private manufacturer/seller at a substantially reduced price.  State Government regulations requires excess money be spent to buy from VCE.  That’s money that comes out of university budgets that could go for faculty, or library needs, or scholarships; instead it props up a slave-like industry system which cannot compete with the private sector.

How bad is the price gouging the universities endure?  There are some furniture pieces this VCE facility does not make.  The local VCE manager goes through private manufacturer catalogs to find what the school needs.  He then buys it, marks the price up, and sells to the university.

Why does Virginia go through this charade?  It’s simple.  Government – your elected representatives – don’t want you to know the true cost of incarceration:  $1.1 billion this year and going up in each of the next two years.  And, that doesn’t include the “hidden costs”, those costs passed on to taxpayers through price-gouged purchase orders between DOC industries and other state divisions.  Or the exorbitant legal fees generated by the Commonwealth to defend arcane and in many cases illegal policies and procedures in place in Virginia DOC facilities.

And it clearly doesn’t include the unreported costs associated with 40,000 parents and children behind bars.  How many children in the Commonwealth are growing up in one-parent homes, living below the poverty line, in danger of dropping out or falling into patterns of drug use and criminal behavior because their fathers – or their mothers – are behind bars?

The real cost of Virginia’s love affair with incarceration is staggering and there is nothing funny about the money spent and wasted or the lives ruined by this state’s continuing lies about is corrections’ apparatus.

The Virginia General Assembly is now in session.  It’s high time for a candid discussion about this state’s failed corrections model.  It’s high time for prison reform.  The era of funny money is over.

Life Lesson

My friend DC learned last evening that his father passed away.  Death is never easy to grasp; in here it is even more difficult.  For fifty years DC’s father has regularly visited.  With his age and health deteriorating his visits to spend time with his incarcerated son became less frequent.  Recently, DC’s mom traveled alone or with DC’s wife for their regular monthly visits. 

When DC took me aside last night and told me the news, I found myself struck by the grace and dignity he possessed.  Later that night as I prayed, I stopped and wrote a few things that in the light of this beautiful, warm, January day surprised me.

But first, a little about DC’s dad.  I had the privilege of meeting him once, up at visitation; but in truth I knew him well through DC’s stories.  He was an infantryman in the United States Army and served in some of the bloodiest battles in Korea.  He served his country and fought and watched friends bleed and die all the while being repeatedly referred to as “boy” and “colored” and being denied basic civil rights living in the segregated south of the ‘40s, ‘50s and early ‘60s.  We, as a people, tend to gloss over our failures, our evils, our sins.  I’ve learned in this experience that too often we like to see things neatly, “us versus them” and the “us” is always right, always justified.  That, I believe, is why it’s so easy for “us” to justify our anger at a whole host of peoples overseas, why “we” so easily support this nation incarcerating two million.  “We” are honorable; “we” are decent.  “They” are terrorists, “they” are criminals.

The truth is, there is no “us” or “them”, there is only “we”.  We all fail, we all have the capacity to hurt and be hurtful.  We all can act a little more humanely.

So DC’s father and mother moved to the District married in ’46; drafted he was sent to Korea.  They raised a house full of children; buried two.  DC’s dad bought a liquor store on the edge of Georgetown.  Kept it his whole life.  Never robbed, never burned during the riots.  DC’s Pop was respected in the community and DC – he was feared.

Years passed.  There was the day in 1968 when his dad came to school and picked him up.  Driving home his dad lowered his voice and gently said “Paul’s coming home.  He was killed over there.  We have to be brave for mom.  She needs us.”  Paul was DC’s older brother.  DC idolized him.  He was drafted by the Phillies one week, the best pitcher they’d ever seen in D.C. they told the family.  Two weeks later the army drafted him and Paul ended up fighting and dying in Vietnam for a war that made no sense, fighting for “freedom” for a foreign people while his own family was denied equal rights in the nation’s capitol. 

Years later, DC asked his dad about the war, if he was angry about Paul dying for such a senseless cause.  “I don’t think nothin of it”, he said.  “I respect your brother cause he went, he fought, he did what he thought was right even knowing the risk.”  DC told me that story a few months after we met during a particularly tough time for me.  “You’re a stand up guy…even in here.  My Pops says that counts for something.”

DC’s dad.  He turned DC’s life around.  As I’ve noted in this blog, DC was one of the most feared, brutal inmates in the Virginia Prison system for years.  A week ago, I began writing a story – an essay really – built around DC.  I’ve been stuck for an ending.  See, my view of DC, the man I know today has largely developed as my faith has grown.  For obvious reasons, I call the story “Damascus”.  I’ve always been intrigued by Paul’s faith journey.  The Apostle Paul was ruthless in his pursuit of members of “the way”.  The blood of dozens was literally on his hands.  And then one day, on the road to Damascus, on the way to attack more Christians, he was struck down.  Why, I wondered, can church people, “good people”, accept that God could change Paul, but not someone like DC?  (You’ll have to wait for the story to come out to get my answer).

This afternoon I found my ending.  DC came by the cut while I was writing.  He just needed to talk about his dad.  So I listened as my friend spoke.  “My daughter was with Pops when he died.  He gripped her hand and called her close and said ‘tell you daddy to remember the goose’.  Then his hand went loose and he was gone.”

DC then told me what that meant.  Back in the early ‘80s, when DC was at Mecklenburg Corrections Center and in the middle of eighteen months of segregated living, i.e. “in the hole”, he was called to a surprise visit.  Visits in segregation are non-contact.  You talk through phones and Plexiglas.  “It was Pops.  He’d come down by himself to see me.”  For hours they talked.  Finally, his father with the phone close to his mouth asked DC why.  “Why do you keep doing this to yourself in prison when you got so much waitin on you out there?”  DC hemmed and hawed.  He had no answer.  “Figure it out son, before it’s too late.  You figure it out and we’ll get you out of here.  And you and me’ll share a bottle of Grey Goose and we’ll talk.”

Ten years later, DC had figured it out.  His dad was at another visit only this time the man sitting in front of Pops wasn’t the same angry, brutal man behind the Plexiglas.  Instead, his dad saw the DC I know, a man of peace, kindness and decency.

“It was about fear, Larry”, DC told me and I felt as though I was looking in the mirror.  Fear had driven me to my own self-destructive meeting with prison and divorce.  “I asked Pops why he came to see me that day in the ‘80s.  He told me a guy called him.  Said he’d just gotten out of prison and knew me.  And he told my Pops if I didn’t get reached soon either the state would kill me or another inmate would kill me, but I’d never make it out.  He just got in his car and drove down to see me.”

There are times in this experience when I’m not sure I can make it another day.  And then there are times, like these past twenty-four hours, when I thank God for this.  I don’t know why all this has happened, but I know I’m a better man for meeting guys like DC.  And I know life; death; pain and joy make so much more sense to me having been put in this place.

DC’s hurting right now but he’s also very much at peace.  He’ll have his time with his dad.  And I promised him, after we’re both out, we’ll go see his dad and have a glass of the goose.  May God bless DC’s Pops.  May God bless DC.  May God bless us all.

A Letter to the Director

Dear Readers: 
Effective January 1, new dorm rules were instituted at Lunenburg.  Many of these rules are quite trivial.  They concern issues drilled down to the minutiae, such as how many books are allowed on your shelf, where laundry bags must be stowed, and the like.  Most are a mere annoyance and inconvenience.  But, in many aspects, that describes prison.  The rules make little sense and bear even less relationship to the security of the institution or the mission of the institution which is namely to serve as a re-entry facility for offenders preparing to return to society , housed in a humane environment, with emphasis placed on programs which foster rehabilitation. 

Prison is a difficult environment made even more difficult when those in charge act in an arbitrary and capricious manner, flouting not only the law but basic human decency.  Such is the case currently at this facility.  If the Governor and his DOC Director are serious about breaking the cycle of recidivism amongst the incarcerated then it begins here, at the institution level.

Week after week I seek to give people a snapshot of the insanity, the silliness that passes for prison.  But, you can never forget no matter how much I gloss it over, prison is a dangerous place.  You deprive someone of basic rights in the name of security and then you add to that by being disrespectful and disingenuous, and the results will not be pretty.

Malcolm Young, founding executive director of the Sentencing Project, recently wrote the following: 

“Except among highly committed corrections staff, advocates and a handful of political leaders, it is difficult to discern direct evidence of a genuine consensus favoring reductions in prison populations.  So far, neither the dollar nor human costs of a massive system of incarceration and its racial and class impacts, have ignited a widespread, energized, political or social movement opposite of that which resulted in mass incarceration.  This has to be a concern if there is any chance of reversing four decades of prison expansion.”

The simple truth is there is no reason for many of us currently incarcerated to remain so.  It is a waste of precious resources and exists because of the illogical conclusion that long, harsh sentences effectively punish crime.  Nothing can be further from the truth.  I remain hopeful that with the appointment of Harold Clarke to lead Virginia DOC, real, dramatic and effective change will occur in the Commonwealth’s prison and sentencing philosophy and many of us will be restored to society sooner, rather than later.  But hope, I fear, is fleeting.  The mindset of the administrators of the facilities must change and Mr. Clarke himself must become an advocate for real change including early release credits tied to inmate performance.  It’s a difficult task, but not impossible.  The following letter is being sent to DOC Director Clarke.

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Dear Mr. Clarke –

I hope you are enjoying the New Year.  I am currently incarcerated at Lunenburg Corrections Center in Victoria Virginia which, as you know, is a level two facility and one of ten “re-entry facilities” as designated by Governor McDonnell’s Offender Re-Entry Initiative.  I write you directly to make you aware of recent policy implementations made by your administrative leadership here.  Ultimately, you, as Director, are responsible for the policies and actions of those in charge here.  And, many of the policies implemented run counter to the purpose and goals behind both the Governor’s directive and your publicly stated views on corrections.

As you know, the United States Supreme Court in its last term handed down the decision of Brown vs. Plata specifically finding the California corrections system to be in violation of the 8^th Amendment’s prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment.  The Court found California’s system to be plagued by substantial overcrowding and gross mismanagement leading to inadequate medical treatment and rehabilitative services for the offender population.  Those same issues confront Virginia’s prison system. Simply put, with the tireless exception of the dedicated employees of DCE – and their offender aides – there is little “correcting” going on here.

As you know, both Virginia administrative code and A.C.A. (American Correction Association) regulations indicate that Lunenburg is excessively crowded.  I live in a building (side A) dedicated to college programs (I work as both an adult basic education and college tutor).  Ninety-six men – four rows of twenty-four double bunks – are packed into our side.  We have less than ten square feet of personal space – another ACA violation.  We share three urinals, five sinks, and four showers – also a violation.  There are typically only two officers assigned to our side and its mirror image side next door.  That’s two officers for almost two hundred inmates.  At least once a week the water turns dirty brown.

Lunenburg, as a re-entry facility, is supposed to be preparing men to return to “the real world”.  Instead of providing offenders more freedom, more responsibility, this administration does just the opposite.  For example, new dorm rules were recently implemented allowing only one inmate at a time access to the bathroom during “quiet hours” (midnight until 5:00 am).  Imagine as an adult man having to ask permission to urinate in the early morning.  As you know, the 8^th Amendment to the Constitution (as interpreted by Federal Courts) considers denial of access to bathroom facilities cruel and unusual punishment.  The “new rule” bears no reasonable basis to security (rules are already in place to prohibit homosexual activity and tobacco and drug use).  Officers can enforce these rules instead of this new rule which your own officers acknowledge does nothing other than raise the stress level in the buildings.

The recent emphasis on enforcing DOC’s grooming policy (clean shaven with the exception of a neat moustache) has generated considerable pushback most notably because many of your own officers arrive at work unshaven and in dirty uniforms.  There is a noticeable lack of physical fitness and professionalism in your officer corps including numerous Sergeants who cuss and holler at inmates.

Finally, the current administration has used the disciplinary hearing process as a Kangaroo court.  Officers routinely write inaccurate, unsustainable charges that fail to comply with the procedures set out in DOP 861.1 and which are required as part of the due process guarantees an inmate is afforded.  As a former attorney, I can assure you, given your officers lack of knowledge on proper charge writing, almost every charge could and should be dismissed.  I do not object to enforcement of the rules.  But enforcement must be proper and favoritism not shown.  Too often, inmates who provide useful information to the officers have officers “look the other way”.

More disturbing, the warden and assistant warden use convictions of minor infractions (series 200 charges) to arbitrarily reduce an inmate’s good time earning level.  At a time when good time earning should be increased, for those actively seeking to rehabilitate and improve themselves, the administration here is trying to take what little number of days we earn already.  This, in fact, violates DOC’s own DOP (830.3) regarding earned credit level adjustments.

And finally, with education – primarily a college education – being the primary determiner in breaking the cycle of recidivism, why are you not advocating DOC funds for continuing the regular associate degree college program?  As you know, federal grant money for associate degree college education is expiring.  Without state funding – or a private foundation intervening – forty young men, who I can personally attest are diligently studying and attending classes in less than ideal circumstances, will see their college educations stop.  With the loss of an opportunity to earn a degree in here comes bitterness and hopelessness.

Mr. Clarke, I have noted your excellent progressive record in prison reform in your prior positions.  I also believe you are a man of deep personal faith.  I humbly ask you to prayerfully consider what I’ve written.  Come see for yourself what truly is going on here.  Come to Lunenburg and talk to those of us who are doing our best to help others and restore ourselves to our communities.

I believe you know full well Virginia’s corrections paradigm is at a crossroads.  Many of us presently held, can – and should – be given the opportunity for early release.  Resources could then be earmarked to 1) provide secure and humane incarceration to the community, and 2) provide adequate program and treatment services to ensure soon to be released offenders no longer re-offend.

I thank you for taking the time to read this letter.  You are in my prayers.

Very truly yours,

Lawrence H. Bidwell

Oh What A Week

Every day, every week, things happen in here that give me pause, and make me challenge long held assumptions.  This week was no exception.

Mid-week we had a fairly brutal fight in here.  One guy ended up going on a medical run the next day:  broken orbital bone.  No one knows what started it.  “Sife” a young, small Muslim with horned-rim glasses fought Tee – a 6’3” muscular black guy.  It was 5:45 pm, fifteen minutes before count, and all hell broke loose.  Chairs went flying and fists, arms and legs hitting flesh and bone could be heard.  A few fellow Muslim inmates jumped in to break it up.  The floor CO:  Ms. West, a sweet, Rollie Pollie country gal hit the “panic button” and ran toward the fight.  Tee slipped off to the rear of the building and his bunk.  In less than one minute our building was packed with 30 officers as radios blasted “fight in 4A.  Cease all movement on the compound!”

“Get to your bunk.  Hold your hands out.”  A dozen officers came down the aisles looking at hands – and faces – for evidence of fighting.  “Chase”, a quiet black Muslim who sleeps across from me was pulled out of line.  There was blood on his sleeve (he’d pulled Sife out of the fight).  He and Sife headed with officers to the watch commander’s office.  Tee, meanwhile – hid out.

An hour later two sergeants entered the building.  They proceeded directly to Tee’s bunk.  The “eye in the sky” Id’d Tee.  He left and Chase returned.  Sife went to the hospital.  Upon his return he found himself in an isolation cell next to Tee.  Both men will do 10 days in the hole for fighting.  They probably are out of the college program.

I don’t understand fighting.  I never have and am more convinced than ever nothing good comes of them. I see more fights in a week in here than I did in my entire adult life.  I’m sure there is a better way.

Then, there was the pie caper on Thursday night.  IG managed to scrounge up ten or twelve apples from guys sneaking them out of chow.  He began making pie crusts (the famous crushed cookies crust) while his side kick, Mustafa, peeled and diced.  They forgot one thing:  the CO on the floor that night was Barksdale.  Besides liking to watch guys shower (now known as “pulling a Sandusky”), he also likes sneaking up on inmates and busting them.  There was no lookout for Mustafa as he sliced and diced.  There went the apples; there went Mustafa to the watch commander.

Now there are four cooked pie crusts.  Big S says “IG, let’s eat them.  They’re nothing but cookies.”  Great idea!  IG, Markees and Big S start chowing down.  Here comes Barksdale.  “That’s contraband.  That’s conspiracy to destroy evidence.”  Off those three guys go to the watch commander.

An hour later all four are back, no charges filed.  “They asked if we were making wine. ‘No’ we said; ‘Pies’, Big S piped up.  The Lt on duty was ticked off:  ticked off that so much food made it out of the chow hall, under the noses of her CO’s.  But she was also ticked that an officer was wasting her time over cookie crumbs.

The next night, Barksdale’s shift ended.  To celebrate, IG made apple pies!

There’s an update on Mustafa’s case.  Last week, I detailed his medical problems and the resulting “unauthorized drug” conviction.  On Mustafa’s behalf, I filed a grievance against the assistant warden alleging 1) violation of Mustafa’s due process rights by assessing additional penalties – loss of visitation and telephone use – not part of his charge conviction; and 2) retaliation for his family seeking medical care for him.

Less than a day after the grievance was filed Mustafa heard from the operations officer and medical.  “The additional penalties were improperly assessed and will be immediately withdrawn”, and “you are scheduled for follow up medical care on 1/4/12.”  Score one for the inmates!  Mustafa called his folks after showing me the responses. 

Then there’s the strange victory enjoyed by Faheem this week. Faheem is a young Muslim inmate.  A great kid:  quiet, polite, hard-working.  He’s twenty-five, a former Army tank driver (The VA, to their credit, provides some services for incarcerated vets), who is three years into a five year sentence for ecstasy distribution.

Faheem does just about any job that comes along.  He’s the building painter, but can be counted on to fill in on laundry, bathroom cleaning and, when needed, trash detail.

And that’s where the story gets interesting.  Our building has a new shift sergeant:  Horn.  That name may sound familiar.  He’s the same sergeant who fought – and choked out – an inmate a month ago in “2 building”.  So they moved him to our building.  They say the trains run on time in a dictatorship.  It’s true.  Our building runs – on time – with Sgt. Horn here.  But he is vindictive, arbitrary, and dishonest; everything that is dangerous in a corrections officer.

A few weeks back, Faheem went outside for 8:00 am rec.  When he came back in he was called to the watch commander’s office and presented with a 100 series charge.  “Failure to perform work as ordered.  Sergeant Horn told you to take the trash out.  Plead guilty and we’ll fine you $12.00 (oh yeah, and not mentioned, the warden will then try and drop your good time earning level).”  Faheem refused to plead guilty and asked for my help in preparing a defense.

Here’s what we “discovered”.  The charge said the Sergeant ordered him to take the trash out at 7:45 am.  Funny, but the Sarge never arrived and signed in to the building until 8:55 am.  Even the hearing officer (supposedly “objective” yet the system is rigged against the inmates much like the kangaroo court structure in the Soviet Union dealt with dissidents) was forced to find Faheem “not guilty” and noted on her decision “the charging officer could not possibly have ordered the offender.”

So, Faheem won.  And Sgt. Horn?  He told Faheem “I’ll have your job before long and you’ll be on food stamps.”  It’s not over.  I’m preparing a letter for Faheem to the Regional Director.  Just because we’re in here doesn’t give men like Sgt. Horn the right to make charges up and screw with a man’s life.

The crazy thing about all I’ve written is this kind of stuff happens every day, every week in here.  If that’s not reason enough for prison reform, I don’t know what is.