Another “Lost” Week” (PT 1 Is this any way to Run Things?)

THIS BLOG WAS WRITTEN IN NOVEMBER, 2014.

 

            As I write this we are still on “modified” lock. Starting Monday morning we went on “lock” for our twice annual compound search. As I’ve written before, these sweeps accomplish little. Sure the COs find extra sneakers and t-shirts. They grab CDs still in the possession of men who traded in CD players for the newly available MP3 players. Shirts, sneakers, and CDs; yet, the drugs remain. Lockdowns are a waste of money and time here. They wear officers out, they piss off the population, and they stop all education programs. They are an exercise in futility and driven by the ego of the security chief. But why would he care about the effectiveness of the lock? Responsibility (“the buck stops here,”) doesn’t apply in DOC for managing a facility. Who cares about another lost week? You should.

            It costs approximately $27 million per year to operate this level “2” facility. And, like everything else in the Department of Corrections, there are operating procedures that govern how a prison is run. “Inmate.com,” the rumor mill that is inmate life, will tell you every prison has lockdown twice each year. And, long-term guys, those who’ve spent time at the higher levels, will remind newbies of “real” lockdowns where you’re confined to your cell with one five minute shower every fourth day. The officers sweep in, enter your cell, then handcuff you. All your personal belongings are dumped on the cell floor. Your bunk is stripped, sheets and blankets thrown in a corner. The COs paw all your stuff then uncuff you and slam your cell door shut. That’s a real lock down.

            Here it’s lay around and wait, wait until the ten to twenty regular shift COs come to our building with counselors in tow. A short walk to the gym then back to the building, twenty or so guys at a time, and “voila” in an hour and a half we’re done. That’s it – an hour and a half. The officers are tired. See, budgets being what they are, they can’t bring in reinforcements to move through in a precise manner. No, they go to “6” – kitchen workers, then “1” –  factory guys (funny how they never miss work, even on lock), then the drag begins.

            What do they take out of the buildings? Nothing but trash and extra clothes. They finish all the other buildings by Wednesday afternoon. We’re done, right? Wrong. For the rest of the week we sit in the buildings. There is no school, no “re-entry” programs (maybe that’s a good thing!). No AA or NA or sex offender treatment. “Ball courts” open on Thursday for three hours; same thing Friday.

            Collage program. We have the academic counselor scheduled to be here and meet with guys for their January semester. Memo goes to “the Major” a month ago reminding him of the college schedule. But, shake downs take priority – even when (1) they aren’t required by policy/procedure (they are routinely waived at other level 2 facilities) and (2) they interfere with education (the number “1” program that breaks the cycle of recidivism). Education doesn’t matter, follow phony procedure even when you don’t have to.

            So Thursday at lunch they give us fried chicken – “chicken on the bone.” Why not? Feed them – and the COs – a little something better and it – hopefully – makes you forget what a waste all this is; a waste in time, money, and lives. Hey, at least the Major got to run his lockdown!

Gary & Thomas

Gary and Thomas moved out of our building – involuntarily. Neither man was in college. Their assignment to 4A was mere happenstance. They both are under eighteen months and were “ready” for the first phases of re-entry. Building 3 is all re-entry, with 4B twelve to eighteen months and introduction to the “pre-cog” community. Overflow from B side is housed in A’s fifteen non-college beds. So Gary and Thomas were moved to 4A. Neither man could read; both men suffer from mental illness and are loaded up with handfuls of skittle colored pills to “regulate” their behavior. And even with the pills, both men went nuts and were “checked in” to the padded suicide cell in 7 building.

            The pill life. In here close to 50% of the men are on something. Don’t get me wrong; medications have their place in modern society. We live in an age where pharmaceuticals cure or limit the effects of diseases and conditions that one hundred years ago would have meant death at an early age. But we have become addicted to drugs without adequately evaluating the consequences of our over-dependence. And that addiction comes with a heavy price.

            Nowhere is the evidence clearer of our over-reliance on prescription meds than inside prison. Pills – meds – are a means of control. It’s far easier for the state to dole out prescription meds than address the underlying causes of many of these men’s problems. And prison – while an isolated lifestyle – is not an island unto itself. The reason the Department of Corrections allows medications to be the primary method of inmate health care is because the same is true in the “real” world. Pills are the answer.

            I have a friend in here, fifty-one, retired Navy. He made a horrible mistake one night and driving drunk crossed into a controlled intersection and killed two people. That was in 2006. To this day, he can’t even mention the accident without tearing up. While he sat in jail, pondering his responsibility for the loss of two innocent lives he heard from his wife that she was divorcing him. “I’m not going to put my life on hold for ten years while you go to prison,” she wrote. He fell into a deep depression. Unable to cope with the guilt over his reckless deed and now reeling from the loss of his wife, my friend actively contemplated suicide. The jail “routed” him to the facility psychiatrist. After a visit lasting less than ten minutes the doctor called in an 80 mg prescription (twice daily) of Prozac. Three weeks ago he came to the realization that the meds (now one 30 mg dose a day) weren’t doing what he needed.

            What he needed was to come to grips with what he did. What he needed was to own up, admit his responsibility and move forward. The meds kept him from that. About a year ago, this decent man, a wayward Catholic by his own admission, returned to the church. Monthly he would go to confession when the priest would come. The confessions, the readings, the self-examination allowed my friend to begin to heal. It was this healing that led to him stopping the Prozac and sleeping for fourteen hours every day. Now, he exercises, and prays, and takes college classes, and lives.

            A personal confession. I find myself in jail. The first night they put me on suicide watch – standard procedure anytime someone from “my side of the tracks” gets locked up. The next morning, a counselor asked me, “you’re aren’t going to hurt yourself, are you? When I said “no,” I was moved to a low custody pod and forty other men. I walked in the pod dayroom and felt like I stepped into the psych ward of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” I was witness to a range and array of characters and behaviors I didn’t know existed. I was a mess – on the inside – yet no one knew. I carried myself with head high, joking, out-going; all the while I planned to end my embarrassment, pain, and self-loathing. I didn’t. Why I didn’t is between God and me, but my “Damascus” moment didn’t make me brave or responsible or giving. I was still a mess, just a mess who decided to see life through.

            A week after my arrival, I met the jail psychiatrist, an out-going, funny Filipino man who took an instant liking to me. “Are you depressed?” Of course I was – who wouldn’t be? My whole life was destroyed – marriage, wealth, prestige – all was gone. He then read the articles about me from the paper and in less than fifteen minutes came up with a “proposed” diagnosis. “You’re brilliant, personable, successful. You must suffer from mania. We’ll call it a slight disorder and see where that leads.” Mania – that explains my reckless behavior I thought. I’m not responsible; I’m ill. He then prescribed me 10 mg of trazadone (an anti-depressant) nightly to “help” me sleep.

            I clutched onto his diagnosis and treatment. I exaggerated in letters my conversations with the good doctor – anything to get sympathy. And, after only two days of pills, I started flushing the trazadone. I didn’t need it. What I needed to get sleep was to admit to myself and my God what a wreck I’d made of my life. And, I needed to “man up” and do the right thing regardless of the outcome. It was during those very dark, very difficult days that I agreed to plead guilty to all charges without a plea agreement on my sentence and to ensure my family was provided for, I soon discovered self-respect helps you sleep better than a bottle or a pill ever will. Like Tom Cruise’s character in “The Last Samurai,” honor and self-respect may be the best medicine for a broken soul.

            Pills; everywhere pills. The other night there were 38 men getting meds from our side, out of 66. Many of the men getting Zoloft, and Xanax, and Prozac, are in here on drug charges. Their treatment plans require alcohol and drug programs; their mental health plan requires high doses of meds. Even the “real” mentally ill – the schizophrenics – they are over-medicated to the point of being non-functioning. Gary and Thomas would sleep upwards of twenty hours per day. Personal hygiene – cleanliness – is forgotten; all there is is a vacant stare.

            It isn’t healthy and it isn’t right. There is no actual psychiatric treatment, just monthly videoconference “how are yous.” Side effects from most of the anti-depression and anti-psychotics require blood work quarterly to verify the pills aren’t destroying the user’s liver. Men go home with new addictions, new crutches.

            What’s the answer? Let’s face it, as USA Today pointed out in a cover story this week; mental health is the expendable item in most state budgets. It’s the dirty little secret no one wants to discuss until there’s a Newtown, or a Columbine, or PTSD Marine who goes off and kills women and children in an Afghan village. We ignore the problem and then “lock ‘em up.” Worse, we think a pill can solve the problem.

            Pills aren’t the answer. Somebody needs to do better for Gary and Thomas. By the way, what’s in your medicine cabinet?

Re-entry or Revolving Door?

I recently received an email posting from “Virginia C.U.R.E.” – an organization dedicated to the successful integration of Virginia’s incarcerated back into society – concerning another Virginia Prison’s re-entry program. Posted by an inmate at Dillwyn Correction Center (a carbon copy of this facility), the writer points out that the re-entry initiative is “alive … but it is not well.” It’s as if he’s seeing the same thing at Dillwyn that I encounter here every day. Worse, as the writer points out, the program is “fully funded” (even while other programs lag due to funding problems) yet still not fully implemented.

            

The premise behind the Governor’s re-entry initiative is laudable. When 1 out of 3 released offenders finds his – or her – way back into prison within a year of release, something is horribly wrong. Prisons must be a place of rehabilitation and preparation for returning offenders to society as productive, law-abiding citizens. The cost to feed, house, and maintain an offender in prison is huge (over $25,000 per year). And, as the inmate population ages (20% of Virginia’s inmates are now over 55) the costs dramatically increase to $75,000 – or more – per year. Ninety percent of those behind bars will walk out. Their success – or failure – has a dramatic economic impact on the Commonwealth.

            

Governor McDonnell understood this from the outset of his term. With a combination of economic practicality and Christian grace theory, the Governor created a framework for preparing soon to be released inmates for return to their communities. But, as this blog has repeatedly pointed out, those “re-entry initiative” goals don’t match with the reality of life behind bars.

            

For one thing, nothing changed inside the walls. There is no impetus for an offender to aggressively seek to change. Be a model inmate, take every program available, work, and you still serve 85% of your sentence. Be a clown, you serve 100%. On a three year sentence that equates to about four months.

            

And the way prisons are run, with little regard for the actual rules and policies in place, creates an environment where favoritism and arbitrary enforcement of policies is the norm. Wardens have unreasonable leeway in enforcing DOPs (Department Operating Procedures); grievance and charge procedures are routinely ignored. It is, simply put, a rigged game and the offender population knows it. Anything proposed by “the police” is looked at with skepticism.

            

The second problem is the inmate himself. The vast majority of men and women behind bars lack basic work skills. They write poorly; they are incapable of even basic math calculations; reading comprehension – following written instructions – is beyond the skill level of most of the incarcerated. I am the exception. Most men here have never known educational success. They have never had steady, meaningful employment; many have never had a checking account, used a credit card (legitimately), managed their finances, saved, or bought a house.

            

The Governor’s re-entry initiative pays lip service to the building of marketable skills. The program instead focuses on inane group programs where offenders are given a “word of the day” and then attend group meetings. What is needed is more like a work skills boot camp with education: reading comprehensions, mathematics, oral and written communication skills, and technology training (computer keyboard use is a must!).

           

But, education and skills training take a backseat to re-entry programs. Nothing makes that case more than stating for the hundredth time that Virginia government provides $0 to prison higher education even though earning a degree in prison virtually guarantees that the inmate will not re-offend after release.

            

Finally, there are the “unit managers” and “cognitive counselors,” the fancy titled employees of the Department of Corrections who run the re-entry program. They come with the mindset of a DOC employee, a mindset that says group matters over the individual (even down to the long-term treatment needs of the offender), and security trumps program. Counselor is a misnomer. There is no counseling. There is also no “thinking outside the box.” They run – and manage – the program line by line as it is spelled out in the department re-entry directive.

            

They enforce silly rules which change almost weekly, and operate their groups with almost god-like power. Inmates who curry favor are routinely given plum assignments. They schedule multiple meetings daily and lead men to give up jobs and miss school to attend their programs.

            

They operate off a script. Our building’s cognitive counselor, a flitty forty-something woman, regularly tells the men “I am your role model.” She hands out syrupy psychological advice from her office covered in posters of kittens, balloons, and trite six-word goal statements while knowing nothing of the men’s pasts or their dreams and aspirations.

            

Completing the program is more important than meaningful change. That’s sad because this re-entry program is showing no better recidivism results than prior efforts. And from the inside, the answer is obvious.

            

There must be department buy in. DOC must be willing to adapt. Wardens, treatment managers, unit managers, and counselors must be held accountable. Their charges’ (the inmates they work with) re-entry success should be used to grade them. And re-entry should be squarely focused on work skills; job training, education, life skills, not the soft, ambiguous program pushed now.

            

Rehabilitation is an expensive process … but so is locking someone up. It’s time those dollars are used effectively – and only once. Prison should be a chapter, not entire life story.

Election Day, Part 2

This may surprise you, but our college dorm is abuzz about the upcoming election.  Debates are watched, ads analyzed, and the candidates’ positions on various issues studied.  Even without the right to vote, men in this building are following the election.

I’ve paid particular attention to the Virginia race for U.S. Senate putting two former Virginia Governors – George Allen and Tim Kaine – in a bruising battle with repercussions for party control of the senate.  The campaign has been expensive, bare knuckles brawling with little regard by either man for the truth.  Both men are mere caricatures of their parties.  And, as with most political campaigns these days, truth and decency are casualties of polling success.

Both men have stretched the truth in their efforts to seek election.  But one whopper stands out.  In a series of ads George Allen continually reminds Virginians as Governor “he ended parole”.  We all expect politicians to play mental gymnastics with the truth.  Allen, however, is an Olympic gold medal winner.  The truth is, by Allen going along with and pushing the legislature toward truth in sentencing with the abolishment of parole, he did significant financial damage to Virginia that is and will continue to affect this state without massive prison and sentencing reform.

In the early 1990s the Federal government approached the states with a too good to be true deal.  Enact “truth in sentencing” laws which require convicted felons to serve 85% of the sentence imposed and Federal grants will cover the cost of prison expansion.  “Free Federal money” most states thought and across the nation legislatures fell in lock step.  In Virginia, George Allen seized on the opportunity.  “Tough on crime, No parole” became rallying cries for his campaign.  His slogans carried the day and soon Virginia’s General Assembly voted to abolish parole.

And soon after his term was underway, Governor Allen engaged his Department of Corrections chief to begin ramping up prison construction.  Like drunken revelers on a pub crawl, the legislators lined up, all eager to prove they too were tough on crime.  In less than ten years new prisons opened in a dozen communities around the Commonwealth, many of them in rural pockets where employment opportunities lagged.

Virginia went from a state with around 9,000 inmates to over four times that many, reaching almost 40,000 in 2009.  DOC became the state’s largest department employing over 13,000.  And the cost?  Soon Virginia was spending over $1 billion dollars annually to operate its prison system.  One out of every 8 general fund dollars was going to prisons.

The Federal grant money stopped, but Virginia’s costs didn’t.  Politicians were afraid to admit they’d made a mistake.  George Allen?  He kept smiling and distorting his record.  Fact is, locking more people up for longer sentences has nothing to do with the crime rate.  Fact also is, Virginia’s released inmates reoffended at the same rate at before.

But change did come.  For one thing, the economy began to tank.  Virginia couldn’t afford everything the politicians promised.  While millions were being directed to DOC, real spending on Virginia’s colleges actually decreased.  Transportation projects were put on hold.  “Creative accounting” on the state retirement system let people believe the Commonwealth had a balanced budget.

First Tim Kaine, then Bob McDonnell, realized Virginia couldn’t sustain its gulag prison system. They began to shut them down devastating rural Virginia counties who had come to rely on the prison gravy train for economic sustenance.

And the inmates?  There were crowded into fewer prisons with fewer officers making the facilities less safe and less rehabilitative.  Inmates began suing and Virginia’s costs continued to climb (over $1.2 billion this year alone).  And George Allen continued to tout his record as Governor. 

Prison reform – sentencing reform – will occur.  The states realize it. You can’t keep locking people up.  There are cheaper, more effective alternatives.

I can’t vote – I’m an incarcerated felon.  But if I could, I’d vote for the candidate who is honest with me about the real cost of Virginia’s love affair with prisons.  They cost too much financially and in the lives they destroy.  George Allen isn’t that politician.

Raising Caine

As usual, what happens in prison in the name of “justice” turns out to be a caricature of everything wrong with calling this place a “corrections” center.  The people who run this place, the people in charge of the Department of Corrections, cut corners, use threats of investigation and going to “the hole” to intimidate, and daily break the very rules they put in place to comply with constitutionally dictated minimum standards of conduct.  It’s all done in the name of corrections. It’s all done in the name of justice.  And, it’s all done wrong.

On Wednesday, “Caine” – named for his dealership expertise in powdery substance – was led out of the building in handcuffs and taken to the hole.  He’s under investigation for “inciting a riot”.  Next to murder or sexual assault, no charge in prison is as serious as inciting a riot.  But, inciting a riot doesn’t mean mayhem.  No, in prison-speak inciting a riot means attempting to organize any collective action on the part of the inmate population.

Inmates are prohibited from organizing.  There can be no petitions for redress of grievances; no hunger strikes, sit downs, work stoppages, collective requests to the administration.  Anyone caught engaging in that behavior is subject to immediate “isolation confinement”, having your good time taken, and seeing your security level raised to “max”.  In short, you end up at Red Onion (Virginia’s notorious level 6 Max security prison). 

So what did Caine do to incite a riot?  In January, the Warden sent out a memorandum announcing that inmates were no longer permitted to own weight lifting gloves.  “All gloves must be shipped home through property or disciplinary charges will follow.”  So Caine did the right thing.  He filed a grievance.  In it, he noted that the Constitution does not allow property to be taken by the Government “without due process granted and just compensation paid” (sounds like a lawyer wrote that doesn’t it?).  Caine pointed out that DOC’s own regulations require it to compensate an inmate when property legitimately purchased is later ruled contraband.

Thirty days after every inmate mailed their gloves home without compensation, the Warden found in Caine’s favor.  He was reimbursed.

Caine realized no one else had been paid.  So, he had a contact make dozens of copies of the grievance decision with his name blacked out.  And, he gave copies to guys in every building.  And just like that inmates around the compound began to request reimbursement.

“Where’d you get the copies?” they asked him as they were going through his stuff and hauling him away.  Making copies, you see, is also prohibited.  Information is power.  Information exposes the reality of this disgustingly pathetic, failed system.

Later that afternoon, I was assisting our computer class when the investigators came through.  They went back to the school office and pulled Craig in.  “You making copies for people?”  Of course Craig wasn’t.  Neither he, nor I, would jeopardize what we’re doing at the school.  Still, the heat Craig felt was real.  Get guys to snitch, tie the school in, ruin the educational opportunities being related.  It happens all the time.  It’s a constant battle.  Ignorance drives most of the criminal behavior evidenced by the inmate population.  Ignorance is job security for the rank and file who work at DOC.

As I write this Caine sits in isolation.  He’ll be fine.  He’s done twelve years already.  He knows in a week or two he’ll be back in college classes.  He didn’t incite a riot.

The same day Todd received his “update sheet”.  Update sheets are the summary of our annual review.  They are based on a 100 point scale.  Hold a job?  20 points.  Have a vocational/treatment plan and meet the terms?  40 points .  Stay infraction free?  40 points.  Everything included in the annual review, including the setting and awarding of security level and good time earning level is controlled by a department operating procedure, DOP 830.3.  Prisons may not arbitrarily act for or against any prisoner; that is a fundamental tenet of the law.  Depriving a man (or woman) of their freedom does not give the government carte blanche to do anything they want.  DOC must follow due process and 830.3 sets out specifically what must be done.

But rules are regularly ignored and violated by the administration.  In Todd’s case, last March he received two charges:  one a 200 series charge for crossing a restricted line.  The second charge was for taking an onion from the chow hall.  This was always considered a series 200 contraband charge until two days before Todd was caught.  Then, it was elevated to a 100 series “stealing charge” (question:  how do you steal food off your tray?).

So Todd wore two charges.  And 830.3 specifically states that a 200 series charge leads to a 10 point deduction and a nonviolent 100 series charge leads to a 20 point deduction.  And 830.3 further states you must have 85 points (minimum) to earn full good time (4.5 days per month).  70 points to 85 and you earn 3 days per month.  Under 60, no earned good time.

So Todd works all year; he becomes a certified dog handler; he completes the IT program with honors and becomes A+ certified (a national IT certification); and, he gets admitted to a four-year Virginia university on his release.

But, his counselor and the administration change his good time level.  They don’t deduct 30 points based on his charges as DOP 830.3 requires.  No, they deduct 50 points.  Why?  The counselor told him, “we’re not gonna give you full credit for school because you pulled these charges.”  That’s not what 830.3 says.  Their response?  You’ll have to make Richmond tell us.”

Ironic isn’t it.  Governor McDonnell tells the press “inmates have civil rights” then his corrections department personnel act in illegal ways to “manage” the facilities.  Disrespect for their own rules breeds disrespect in the inmate population.  It’s time people outside demand better from those paid to enforce the law and guard the rights of citizens, even the incarcerated.  It’s time to “raise caine” for real justice, even in the prisons.

Dear Gene

The Director of the Virginia Department of Corrections, Gene Johnson, gave a speech the other day in which he said the following:



“At some point in time we need to stop locking up people we’re mad at and lock up people we’re afraid of . . .”


http://www2.timesdispatch.com/news/2010/jul/28/priz28-ar-352503/



WOW! Who would have guessed Mr. Johnson reads my blog (I used the exact same quote a week ago). Knowing the DOC Director is a fan of the blog, I thought I’d write him directly about his speech. So, here goes.


Dear Gene:


I read with great interest your remarks about the current state of Virginia’s prisons. So, Virginia spends too much money locking up nonviolent offenders and not enough on programs to help criminals transition into life after prison. You also said Virginia should stop doling out lengthy prison sentences to nonviolent felons. Brilliant! Problem is, those of us in here knew all that already.


You want to fix the system? Try this – go to the General Assembly and seek repeal of “85%” (in 1994 Virginia abolished parole and instituted that an inmate serve a minimum of 85% of their sentence). Recommend a sliding scale from 20% to 60%. Give inmates an incentive to rehabilitate.


Maybe, just maybe, Virginia could imitate “progressive states” like Mississippi where in 2007 they set nonviolent felon sentences at 25%. Who would have ever thought that Virginia could learn something from Mississippi?


Second, go to the next judicial conference and tell judges to “get real” with their sentences. Yes, I embezzled $2 million. But giving me 30 years, with only 15 suspended, explain that? A man in Richmond who, in a high speed pursuit eluding police, struck and killed a well-known black minister was sentenced to 13 years. A child pornographer was given 8 years. Where is the rationale to justify keeping me behind bars for almost twice as long as a child pornographer?


Mr. Johnson, read the July 22, 2010 Economist (not what you call a “bleeding heart” publication) for an excellent analysis of what’s wrong with sentencing in America and what can be done to change it.


http://www.economist.com/node/16636027?story_id=16636027

http://www.economist.com/node/16640389?story_id=16640389



Urge the Governor to implement restorative justice programs across the board for almost every crime. Demand alternative sentencing for all but violent offenders. And, suggest to the Governor that he begin to use his conditional pardon power with a flourish when judges refuse to give realistic sentences.


You oversee a broken system. $1 billion that could be used for roads, education, poverty and medical care is being used primarily to hold inmates. What does it cost per year to keep me – a low custody, well-behaved, 51 year old inmate locked up? $20,000? $30,000? $40,000? Each year the Commonwealth flushes millions down the “corrections” commode.


You want to fix the system, be creative, be daring.


You want help, just ask. I’m more than happy to go to work at DOC. Oh, I forgot. Convicted felons can’t work there.


All joking aside, Governor McDonnell and you could bring real change to corrections and make Virginia a leader in prison reform. Have faith and go forth. The time is now “And the people said Amen!”