DOC Loses, Again and Again

THIS BLOG WAS WRITTEN IN FEBRUARY, 2015.

 

            Betting against DOC in court is becoming a no-brainer. The folks in Richmond keep defending – and losing inmate suits. The cost is borne by the taxpayers.

            So, an inmate in Virginia’s maximum security facility, Red Onion, asks to participate in the Muslim fasting period of Ramadan. Officers go into his cell and search, looking for “physical items in his possession to prove his faith.” The inmate has a Koran and a prayer rug, but nothing else. DOC denies the inmate's participation in the fasting period. He filed suit.

            Ruling against the prison, the U.S. Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals found that DOC policy was unconstitutional.

            “The First Amendment demands a more reasoned approach, even within the difficult confines of a prison environment.” The court found that indicators of an inmate’s sincere religious beliefs go beyond physical possession of religious items. The court then awarded the inmate $3.795 (his filing and copying costs to bring this prose suit).

            Like the inmate medical care suit (inmates at the Fluvanna Women’s prison), this suit should cause DOC to change policy at every institution. But it doesn’t. Inmates continue to file grievances over bad medical care and denial of their rights to practice their religion. The grievances are filed, suits go forward, and taxpayers pay. No one in the administration is called to answer for it. Sounds crazy doesn’t it?

            Here’s a word you don’t hear too often involving Virginia’s Department of Corrections: Accountability. It’s time DOC is held to the same standard those of us doing time are held to. DOC needs to be accountable.

 

Election at the Prison

This past week, the prison population held elections for the “IRG” – the “Inmate Representative Group.” Each building elects a representative to discuss policies and procedures with the administration. The IRG then chooses a chair who argues on behalf of the group during discussions with the warden. For almost four years, I had successfully avoided any involvement with IRG. I found it cliquish and its suggestions not well thought out or relevant to life behind the fence. Frankly, I didn’t care that the IRG argued for “Texas Beef” ramen noodles versus “Cajun Chicken.”

            

Then a funny thing happened the other night. A group of the Muslim guys in the building brought up the IRG elections at the evening meal breaking the Ramadan fast. One of the Muslims spoke up and urged his Sunni brothers to “pay attention to the teachings” in the Koran which specifically calls on Muslims to support those who are “just” and have “wisdom.”

            

Unknown to me, this Muslim inmate gave my name to the building counselor as a candidate for our building’s IRG rep. Less than five minutes after ballots were collected I was called in the counselor’s office. “Are you willing to serve?” she asked. I had apparently won in a landslide. Two days later, the newly constituted IRG met and I was elected chair. (I told the reps in attendance I preferred the treasurer position which drew a loud laugh).

            

So what does it mean? Inmates are not allowed to organize.  DOC policy expressly forbids inmates from acting in concert. There can be no organized work stoppages, or protests, or even petitions. Ironically, it happens quite regularly. In California, over 12,000 high custody inmates went on a hunger strike a few months ago to draw attention to the fact that the state had ignored the orders of the United States Supreme Court – to release 30,000 plus inmates by year-end due to the shameful, unconstitutional conditions in the California prison system.

            

In Georgia, thousands of inmates participated in a work stoppage to call attention to that state’s slave-like treatment of its inmate workforce. In both cases, change occurred. But, not without inmate organizers being placed in solitary.

            

Candidly, there will be no such action at a place like this. With few exceptions – those rare inmates here who carry life sentences with the release date: “12/28/9999” – prisoners here are relatively short on their time. No one is willing to consider the moral imperatives that go along with incarceration.

           

Even more bluntly, the notion of loyalty, of standing together, standing for principle is in even shorter supply. Character is a rare commodity in a place like this. It’s usually, “What can I get?”

            

But there are things that can be done. You won’t ever drive the hustles and scams out of prison. You won’t ever convince the vast majority of those held behind bars that they are being treated fairly. You won’t convince a majority of those here to change and re-enter society as law abiding citizens because they are repeatedly lied to by staff here and programs are long on words and short on effect.

            

I had always thought I would avoid inmate governance because it didn’t amount to anything. Then, my Muslim friend told me just by speaking to the warden, and the chief of security maybe small things could change. Maybe the toxic atmosphere that pervades prison life could lesson just a bit. I told him I’d do my best.

            

I’m not sure if I’m as just or wise as the Muslim community here thinks. But, I know this is no way to run a prison. The current system does nothing but waste lives. It’s not even punishment really. The punishment is in your mind as you contemplate all you’ve lost. Trouble is, when you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing left to lose.

Election at the Prison

This past week, the prison population held elections for the “IRG” – the “Inmate Representative Group.” Each building elects a representative to discuss policies and procedures with the administration. The IRG then chooses a chair who argues on behalf of the group during discussions with the warden. For almost four years, I had successfully avoided any involvement with IRG. I found it cliquish and its suggestions not well thought out or relevant to life behind the fence. Frankly, I didn’t care that the IRG argued for “Texas Beef” ramen noodles versus “Cajun Chicken.”

            

Then a funny thing happened the other night. A group of the Muslim guys in the building brought up the IRG elections at the evening meal breaking the Ramadan fast. One of the Muslims spoke up and urged his Sunni brothers to “pay attention to the teachings” in the Koran which specifically calls on Muslims to support those who are “just” and have “wisdom.”

            

Unknown to me, this Muslim inmate gave my name to the building counselor as a candidate for our building’s IRG rep. Less than five minutes after ballots were collected I was called in the counselor’s office. “Are you willing to serve?” she asked. I had apparently won in a landslide. Two days later, the newly constituted IRG met and I was elected chair. (I told the reps in attendance I preferred the treasurer position which drew a loud laugh).

            

So what does it mean? Inmates are not allowed to organize.  DOC policy expressly forbids inmates from acting in concert. There can be no organized work stoppages, or protests, or even petitions. Ironically, it happens quite regularly. In California, over 12,000 high custody inmates went on a hunger strike a few months ago to draw attention to the fact that the state had ignored the orders of the United States Supreme Court – to release 30,000 plus inmates by year-end due to the shameful, unconstitutional conditions in the California prison system.

            

In Georgia, thousands of inmates participated in a work stoppage to call attention to that state’s slave-like treatment of its inmate workforce. In both cases, change occurred. But, not without inmate organizers being placed in solitary.

            

Candidly, there will be no such action at a place like this. With few exceptions – those rare inmates here who carry life sentences with the release date: “12/28/9999” – prisoners here are relatively short on their time. No one is willing to consider the moral imperatives that go along with incarceration.

           

Even more bluntly, the notion of loyalty, of standing together, standing for principle is in even shorter supply. Character is a rare commodity in a place like this. It’s usually, “What can I get?”

            

But there are things that can be done. You won’t ever drive the hustles and scams out of prison. You won’t ever convince the vast majority of those held behind bars that they are being treated fairly. You won’t convince a majority of those here to change and re-enter society as law abiding citizens because they are repeatedly lied to by staff here and programs are long on words and short on effect.

            

I had always thought I would avoid inmate governance because it didn’t amount to anything. Then, my Muslim friend told me just by speaking to the warden, and the chief of security maybe small things could change. Maybe the toxic atmosphere that pervades prison life could lesson just a bit. I told him I’d do my best.

            

I’m not sure if I’m as just or wise as the Muslim community here thinks. But, I know this is no way to run a prison. The current system does nothing but waste lives. It’s not even punishment really. The punishment is in your mind as you contemplate all you’ve lost. Trouble is, when you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing left to lose.

Ryan, Magnetic and Others

In an excerpt from the late Steve Jobs recently published autobiography he explains his disagreement with Christianity.  Too many Christians, he suggests, don’t try and live like Christ and follow His teachings and instead focus on tenets of faith and belief.  I think Mr. Jobs may be on to something and it got me thinking about a lot of guys I deal with in here.

Ryan is in the top bunk next to me.  He’s rather short and a workout friend.  He’s built like a hobbit on steroids.  He also is an active practicing “Christian”, or so he describes himself that way.  He is constantly reading Bible commentaries, pouring over King James interpretations of verses, and looking up precise meanings of words from a Bible dictionary he keeps at hand.  He also attends Bible study and services three times a week.  And yet, Ryan is one of the most angry, distrustful, arrogant people I have ever met. 

“I don’t trust any of these scumbags,” Ryan told me the other day.  When I smiled he asked me what was so funny.  “I’m trying to remember where in ‘The Sermon on the Mount’ that line appeared?”  His curt response:  “Jesus doesn’t expect us to put up with a-holes.”  Somehow I think Ryan missed the entire point of the New Testament.

Then, there is “Magnetic”.   He’s a young kid who has become a philosopher.  He knows virtually everything (just ask him).  He’s toying with the “5%ers” philosophy (hence the name “Magnetic”, there is also “Unique”, “Dominion”, and “Sincere”, in the building.  They pick and choose various pieces of each religious philosophy like ordering ala carte at a restaurant).  Magnetic spoke often of “black Friday”, the day in the future when the oppressed masses overthrow the white majority.  “You’ll be fine Larry.  You care about us.”

Magnetic spouts forth Bible verses (and passages from the Koran) to support his logic.  It blew up in his face recently.  The college students (regular program) had intro to sociology.  Magnetic was enrolled in the class.  The Professor had effeminate mannerisms.  Magnetic announced in class that “God hates” homosexuals and therefore, he didn’t have to listen to anything the Professor said.  The instructor left word for the school principal.  “I won’t tolerate ridicule like that.  He’s out.”  The principal concurred and Magnetic was removed from college.  Yesterday he was moved.  Before he left he asked me if I thought he was wrong to try and uphold a “Biblical principle”.

I thought for a moment about my response.  I reminded him I’m in prison for a “theft”.  “Thou shalt not steal.  My marriage – a church marriage – failed miserably.”  So I asked him, who am I to judge whether that instructor is living right?

I think a great deal about the lessons, the requirements of faith, and the more I think about them the more I realize I didn’t know a thing about what God really requires of us.  Over and over I hear the words from the prophet Micah, “What does the Lord require of you?  Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly before your God.”

Guys in here – Ryan, Magnetic and hundreds more – put on a show.  They “philosophize” about the big complex questions of existence; they memorize prayers and verses; they recite rules and principles of conduct, and they miss the simple message Steve Jobs addressed:  they forget to live like Christ. 

And as I thought about that I realized prison isn’t so different from the real world.  If only we were more compassionate, more forgiving, more merciful.

The other week I received a letter from a man I’d never met.  He’d heard of my situation from a mutual friend and wrote a letter which contained among other things, an interview with the former Catholic Bishop of Richmond, a tireless advocate for prison reform.  It was a warm letter and touched me deeply.  This man and his wife did not know me, yet they wrote to bolster my spirits.  Perhaps Steve Jobs was a little too quick to miss the efforts of some to live a little more like God intended.

Symbols

There’s been a whole lot of news recently about symbols. There was a crazy preacher in Florida ready to burn the Koran (question: How does the preacher explain his behavior against his professed faith in the “Prince of Peace?”); Americans are up in arms over the proposed location of a Mosque near Ground Zero. “Sacred land”, some argue, yet not too sacred to disallow a strip joint and an Irish Pub just offsite (I’ve had lunch and drinks at the pub. Great food and Guinness on tap!).


Frankly, to me both issues are asinine. I had a discussion months ago with a Muslim inmate I deeply respect. He got upset one night when the CO left his mail on top of his Koran. “She disrespected and defiled the Holy Koran.” I get the point. I believe the Bible is God’s word to us. One of my few treasured possessions I claim in here is a Holy Bible a close friend sent me two weeks after my arrest. I’ve read it cover to cover and have highlighted and underlined it extensively (which will probably offend some Christians).


The words in that book mean more to me than anything, because in my darkest moments they have provided me comfort and hope. But, as I told my Muslim friend, you could pick that book up and wipe with it and I wouldn’t react. The book isn’t the faith. Those words are etched in my heart.


Ironically, devout Muslims memorize the Koran. The first Koran was burned so it wouldn’t fall into the hands of the “infidels”. Muslims memorize it so they can recreate it anytime, anyplace. Somehow the book has overtaken the word as the object of Holy adherence.


Symbols become important because we give them meaning. The same people that call Ground Zero sacred would likely scoff at a “Crips” gang member insisting on wearing his blue bandanna to show his colors.


I only really had one symbol in my life, my wedding ring. The day the divorce papers were served on me, I mailed the ring back to my wife. She wrote me shortly thereafter and said, “You could have kept it. It’s your ring” (ironically, she never thought about sending me the two carat diamond ring I designed and gave her for our 25th Anniversary). I wrote her back and told her I didn’t want a ring she didn’t believe in.


I noticed in that experience a great deal about symbols – they’re overrated. Our wedding ring was a symbol of our lifetime commitment, the eternity of our bond and love. Yeah, I buy that (sorry for the sarcasm).


“Crips” fight “Bloods” over the color blue verses red. Muslims will chop off hands over an alleged slight to their Holy book. Christian preachers burn Muslim Korans. It’s all about nothing except we made it important. I’m not so hung up on having symbols anymore. I see a whole lot of guys in here wearing crosses, yet they’re the first ones to cuss out a CO, get in a fight, or leer at one of the young nurses that work here.


I keep a few symbols in my locker. I have a painted card of Archangel Michael – a gift from an Episcopal minister friend. Michael, I was told, is the Angel that protects us. I look at him every time I open my locker. I keep two quotes from the Psalms in my locker that I recite over and over.


Psalm 55:24 - Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous stumble.


and


Psalm 68:6 – God gives the solitary a home and brings forth prisoners into freedom.


I also keep a picture of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model Brooklyn Decker (man’s got to dream!).


The thing I’ve realized is, you can take it all away and I’ll be alright. The Psalms, my verse from Isaiah 40 or Ephesians 4, they’re in my mind and my heart.






We focus way too much on symbols. Prison life especially has too much emphasis on them. Guys will fight over the dumbest things: new blue shirts, crisp sheets, hats. Guys think the newness of their “stuff” signifies their place in here.


Truth is, none of the stuff matters. I’ve read a great deal by men who have overcome imprisonment. Mandela, Dr. Frankl, and the Apostle Paul. Not one of them ever wrote, “Man, I got through that experience thanks to my lucky coin”. No, what got them through was their faith, their hope, their belief in the future. They knew, in their hearts, that all the stuff could be taken away but they didn’t have to give up their souls.


So the Mosque near Ground Zero? Let them build it and perhaps we can all remember a little idea like religious tolerance (and remember, some of the people who worked and died in the Twin Towers were Muslim). The preacher in Florida? Pray God helps him pull his head out of his ass and Muslims remember their faith is based on peace.


As for me, I’ll keep praying for my ex and my sons. I’ll keep working to bring the failures of the prison system to light. And Brooklyn Decker? Her picture’s staying up.