A Tale of Three C’s

            Three white guys whose names all begin with C stroll around this compound. Much of what I consider problematic with prisoners is represented in the three Cs. For I fear, as a lay psychoanalyst and observer of human behavior, that prison has done nothing except bring out the worst in them.

            C#1 is on his second trip to “the rodeo,” that’s what guys doing time three or four years at a time – the installment plan – for fifteen or twenty years call it. The guy is an accomplished artist. He can draw or paint anything. Beautiful cards; posters; embroidery. But, he’s a scumbag. He runs dirty hustles all over the compound. Want a watch? See him. He gets ten to twelve watches smuggled in. Religious medallions too.

            Then there’s the forgery scam. Guy wants money for drugs, or gambling, or a cellphone. C#1 got hold of a “college transcript” form. Inmate pays him $50; C#1 creates a “college transcript” showing the inmate pulled A’s in his classes. Transcript sent home with a heartfelt letter. “Mom, I’m working hard, getting my education. The next class cost $275 (or $375 or $150) and I have to pay by next week.” Mom, who’s seen her son come in and out of prison three, maybe four times, willingly sends the money in. Trouble is, the guy isn’t in college.

            C#1 partners with a notorious child rapist to con guys on their electronics. The partner – a mid-thirties white guy, who looks like he stepped out of a GQ ad, is doing twenty years for forcible penetration of a pre-teen when he was eighteen. At a higher level, this guy would try and run under the radar. Fear is an effective deterrent to a lot of nonsense in high-level security facilities; fear isn’t very prevalent down here.

            So this guy – who works as an electrical vocational aide – teams up with C#1. You need new wiring on your headphones and C#1 tells you, “I got a guy.” Problem is, your speakers are coming out, replaced by older, crackly ones in the shop. And your speakers? They’re going in someone else’s headphones – for a price of course.

            And C#1, well he’s gone from church group to church group. He’s a Jehovah Witness now. He’ll spout doctrine and verse all the while pocketing his thirty pieces of silver.

            Then we come to C#2. This guy has the skin color of the Speaker of the House. He too is on his return trip to the rodeo – third in all. He lost most of his twenties, part of his thirties, and now at 41 and with two years remaining – his entry into his forties. C#2 is a prick; sorry, but there is no other way to describe him. He is angry, hateful, bigoted, and smart enough to be dangerous. He is a very smart man and that may bother me more than anything else. He’s smart and yet so dumb to the reality of life around him. He sees color and class and judges by those arbitrary lines.

            C#2 is inmate assistant to the Catholic deacon who comes every Sunday – 52 weeks a year – and leads a dozen or inmates in worship (once a month a priest comes with the deacon to perform confession and communion). This seventy-year old man felt called in retirement to work in prison, ministering to Catholics behind bars. His assistant professes to be devout, yet his words – about blacks, Hispanics, gays, and women – speak louder than his faith.

            I asked him the other day – as he was charging his usurious interest rate on store-boxed ramen noodles and cookies, “What kind of store-box would Jesus run?” His answer: “Fuck you Larry. Jesus never had to do time with these assholes.” Couldn’t argue with that logic!

            C#2 represents all the separation you see in here. Guys feel no loyalty, no comradeship, no empathy that “we’re all in this together.” So, prejudice and ignorance fester and guys are drawn to crazy theories – on both ends of the spectrum.

            “What’s in it for me?” That’s the mantra of C#2. And, I don’t recall seeing that anywhere in the Sermon on the Mount. I can’t help thinking old Karl Marx (the unfunny Marx brother!) must have coined his expression, “religion is the opiate of the masses,” inside a prison. Because in here, guys use religion exactly the opposite of what God intends. C#2 is an apostle alright, an apostle of anger, hatred, and separation.

            Finally there’s C#3. I must confess I am conflicted by #3. He can be charming – especially to your visitors when your paths cross in the VI room. I’ve seen him give to those without. But then … suffice it to say, this isn’t his first rodeo – nor will it be his last rodeo. Simply put, he runs too many hustles, is too dirty, to avoid detection.

            Need cologne? See C#3. Certain religions are allowed access to “prayer oils.” C#3 fronts dozens of orders through Muslim inmates. The bottles come in; he breaks them down by dram. We’re not talking “Sandalwood” and “Myrrh” available on the commissary. We’re talking CK, Polo, Kenneth Cole, Hermes, you name it. And most of these guys have never worn cologne or aftershave so they bathe in it.

            Then there’s his phone scam. He sells “Google numbers” for $25.00 a pop. A phony local address and one of his 100 local Google numbers gets you $0.99 per minute calls instead of $2.00 or $3.00 per minute via DOC’s provider GTL. C#3 recycles the numbers to new inmates when current “users” transfer or go home.

            What C#3 doesn’t realize is the Feds (who are already looking at him for something else) know all about his “Google scam.” A few months ago, DOC put out a directive prohibiting money orders for “fronted long-distance numbers.”

            Finally, C#3 had his wife send in “going home” clothes to guys with thumb drives sewn in the waistband or hemline. One of those thumb drives found their way into another building and was confiscated during “computer crisis #1.” And yes, the powers that be here know he’s dirty.

            C#3 sits around reading books by TV preachers telling everyone he’s down to 15 months at which time he’ll leave and live a fairy tale life with his wife. I think it’s called cognitive dissonance; your behavior is opposite your words. In here, its C#3 being C#3.

            I watch and shake my head. It’s no wonder two out of three guys are back inside within 36 months. The sad thing with the three Cs is they all have strong family support. They are all smart. They don’t need to run the prison cons; they don’t need the anger, the arrogance, the conniving. They have a chance at a real life outside of here. But, they blow it. They didn’t learn anything from their first trip (or trips) to “the rodeo.” This is a moral tale with no happy ending. I wouldn’t expect any less in here.

Meals, Mail and More

Do you ever ask yourself “why do six out of ten released offenders land back in prison within three years?”  Sure, some are bad seeds who will continue to do that which landed them in here.  Many, however, should conjure up thoughts in your mind of “there but for the grace of God go I.”  Funny, I used to pooh pooh that expression.  After all, I was “never” one check away from poverty, divorce, prison.  Don’t think God has a sense of humor?  Take one look at me.  I’m a walking comedy routine; I am a platypus.  More about that later.  No, as I wander through this institution I see almost daily how so much of DOC is staffed – in senior positions – by men and women who cause more problems than contribute to solutions.  And, a very real part of the high recidivism rate can be set on their table.  You treat people disrespectfully, you lie to them, you try bizarre social engineering, and you wonder why there isn’t a corrections epiphany.  As “Pogo” said, “we have met the enemy and he is us.”

A week ago our assistant warden announced a change in meal schedules.  For ten years “common fare” participants (i.e. religious diets) have eaten first.  As I’ve documented over the life of this blog, the battle over religious rights – including religious meals – has been fought for years behind the walls.  Numerous Federal court opinions have held that an inmate in prison retains his/her right to practice their faith and if that faith requires certain dietary rules to be observed (i.e. Kosher for Jewish inmates) then those diets must be reasonably accommodated.

Virginia DOC for years fought giving special diet trays.  By fits and starts, DOC relented in the face of dozens of First Amendment suits (how ironic, all the “law and order” types seek to fight application of Constitutional rights to prisoners where the Constitution is the “ultimate” law of the land) and “common fare” was instituted.  Rather than looking at each inmate’s religious practice on a case by case basis (Federal Courts have approved an objective test:  does the inmate present a faith based petition for special diet?), Virginia set up a one size fits all approach.  Attend any approved church/religious service twice a month for six months, then you are eligible for common fare.

Hundreds of guys signed up after joining Messianic Jewish services, Jehovah Witnesses, Rastafarians, Nation of Islam, or traditional Christian or Muslim services.  And that’s where the rub hits.  It costs DOC approximately $1.75 per day to feed the average inmate.  It costs over three time that much to feed common fare.  In an age where state budgets are stretched and still Virginia politicians won’t admit the obvious truth – there are too many people incarcerated for too long – common fare trays cost too much to provide.

Enter the Assistant Warden.  He announces common fare participants will eat last at breakfast and dinner and go at 11:00 am for lunch (before count).  His rationale, told to officers and teachers “I just want to shake things up and see what comes out”.  He wants guys to quit common fare and the effects his “shake up” have on programs are irrelevant if he gets his desired result.

What effects?  Glad you asked.  Factory workers cannot go to the shop to make chairs that are sold at above value prices to state agencies to help pay for DOC (the costs of which are borne by the taxpayers) until after chow call. That’s an hour and a half later than usual, a tremendous loss of productivity (not to mention pay for the guys).

Then there’s school.  Because of the early lunch call, common fare participants in 2^nd period (and aides) leave thirty minutes early.  That’s 2 ½ hours lost each week out of 7 ½ hours of school time per student.  How odd, I thought.  Education is the number one way to break the cycle of recidivism and this administration has taken 1/3 of an inmate’s weekly school time and flushed it.

The same happens at 5^th period school (4:30 to 7:30).  Common fare participants cannot go to school until after chow (5:30).  5^th period classes meet twice a week, so two out of six hours are lost.

Did the Assistant Warden think this out?  I like to think he’s just foolish.  However, my experience in here has taught me guys like the Assistant Warden are dangerous.  Power goes to their heads.  They see the prison as their private fiefdom or lab and they make rash decisions without consulting the people on the front lines, like the teachers.  The fact that their decisions run contrary to the Governor’s re-entry speak apparently doesn’t matter.

Then there’s prison mail.  DOC has a host of rules governing inmate mail.  Letters must weigh less than one ounce; there can be no “contraband” (an ambiguous word, contraband is defined as anything not approved for an inmate).  An especially touchy subject involves photos.  “No nude, semi-nude, lingerie photos allowed.”  So your 80 year old grandparents send you a picture taken of them walking on the beach in bathing suits?  Disallowed.  Yet, inmates can order 5 X 7 photo cards of totally nude women from “pen pal” catalogs.

I don’t disagree with all of DOC’s mail rules.  They’re an inconvenience but heck, we’re in prison.  The problem is the individual decision making is left to the discretion of each prison’s operations officer.  And that is the rub.

The other day Craig was denied a letter (when mail is rejected we receive a form letter notifying us of the “ground” for rejection) based on “lingerie photos”.  Craig’s girlfriend was going to a concert and had a friend snap a photo of her in jeans, cowboy boots, and a red silk top.  Not only was the photo rejected, but a large “X” was written through it and the letter and photo then torn and returned to her.  On the outside of the envelope a DOC ink stamp noted “letter returned…nude photos”.

Craig’s girlfriend was furious.  She called here and spoke to the operations officer who told her the photo was disallowed because “silk blouses are lingerie”.  Want to hear something funny?  The operations officer – a mid-forties African American woman – wears silk blouses almost every day.  The issue hasn’t been dropped.  Craig’s girlfriend contacted an attorney and called the Director’s office.

The problem is each prison interprets this rule.  Subjective decision-making is never good, especially when the subjective basis set out is illogical.  As the same time this battle was playing out the Washington Post was reporting on DOC’s “televisit” set-up in Alexandria allowing Northern Virginia families to visit, via video connection, with their family members in the far Southwest (eight to ten hours from Alexandria).  “A sense of family is critical to an inmate’s successful reintegration into society” a researcher was quoted as saying.

So, why does DOC allow its prison to interfere with communications from family and friends in such arbitrary ways?  Why, if we know that connection to the real world leads to successful reintegration, does DOC tolerate such behavior in their prison administrators?

Again, I fear the answer isn’t ignorance, it’s darker.  Fewer inmates require fewer prisons.  Fewer prisons mean fewer guards, fewer operations directors, fewer wardens.  Prison operations are a $70 billion industry and all that money is from public funds.  I’m not a conspiracy proponent, but when National Review writers such as Jonah Goldberg, in a recent column about California’s corrupt and dysfunctional (and unconstitutional) prison system say the following:  “in a state where more than two-thirds of crime is attributable to recidivism [CA DOC’s officers union) has spent millions of dollars lobbying against rehabilitation programs, favoring instead policies that will grow the inmate population and the ranks of prison guards…”  Kind of makes me think my conspiracy thoughts aren’t too farfetched.

“There but for the grace of God go I.”  I opened this blog using that expression.  Funny thing about grace.  It usually shows up in the most difficult of circumstances.  As I sit here and watch the immovable object – “tough on crime” – come face to face with the economic realities of 9% unemployment, European market melt downs, a political season filled with hollow promises, I realize God has me exactly where I need to be.  Things are becoming clear to me about this states, this nations, failed criminal justice system.  God’s grace, you see, even finds its way into the prisons.