So, I wrote yesterday about how my raise could not go through because I do not have proof of my high school diploma. Now, I know my probation officer in my PSI had to verify my education, but for some reason my PSI was never uploaded into the computer system. Turns out, all that is needed is for my "team" to do their job and upload the document. In fact, one staff member said to me that if there is no PSI in the system, they don't know how I can be held in prison. That's how important the PSI document is. (The PSI was referred to the PSR prior to my incarceration). Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I decided to go to one of the teachers in my department that "gets things done." I've worked for him several times - he is the teacher I started "volunteering with." He is also the teacher I just spent a month working with before they had me go with a new teacher and new class of students. He is also the teacher that officially "promoted" me to a Grade 3 (my 5 cent raise).
So, I went to his office yesterday afternoon and asked, "if somehow no one uploads my PSI and my mom is unsuccessful at getting my diploma, can you assist me in confirming my high school diploma." At first he laughed and said, "the PhD candidate is the one that we don't have high school confirmation for." I wanted to inform him that I was a PhD student, not candidate (yet), as I hadn't yet defended my dissertation topic. However, this was a time for humbleness. Anyway, he says that he is surprised that my "team" didn't upload my paperwork - as it is an essential part of their duties. So, he says, "I'll get on it." Next thing he does is call me back to his office and says, "let's do this now." I like someone who wants to do the right thing!!
So, I walk with him over to my housing unit. He walks fast, and I'm slow, so I am a bit behind. It's funny watching him walk through the compound, because he's constantly screaming at someone, "tuck in your shirt," "button your shirt," or "where is your uniform." He goes by the rules ALL the time!!!
Anyway, we get into the unit and he brings me into the "records" room (a conference style room that I've only been in for my two "team" meetings). He has a woman pull out my file and 'wah lah' in there is my PSI. He reads the education section and it says all the schools I've attended and that it was "verified" by the probation officer. That leads the teacher to then walk me directly to my "counselor's" office. The same counselor that would not allow me to speak with him about this about 2 hours prior. So, the teacher "informs" the counselor that my education has been verified and that he has to press a couple keys in the computer, so I am able to get my promotion. Additionally, he informs the counselor that my PSI has never been uploaded into the system. The counselor looks funny at the teacher and says, "really??!??!," knowing full well it was his job upon my arrival to do so. He says he will take care of it. I ask if he needs my inmate number (remember, we are all just numbers here), and he says, "I know who you are." He could have fooled me.
I have no idea if the counselor followed through with his promise to upload my PSI and change my education status as "verified" on the computer. I will follow up with the teacher early next week (give a couple days for it to be done - nothing gets done fast here). If it is not done, I know that this teacher will use his handy walky-talky and call the counselor once again... and will ask the questions that I am not able to ask, like "why." I appreciate SO MUCH his having my back on this. PLUS, my mother NO LONGER has to fight with the school to get my diploma (yes, mom, you are off duty on this now! Ha).
The teacher I am referring to here is all "police," as we say. He follows the rules. He started as a correctional officer. He takes down the largest inmates who are fighting in pill line. He screams at people who violate the rules. He expects perfection, not "I'll do my best." He treats everyone the same, yet helps those who want to help themselves. He says for me to have 40 occupation plans upon my release, no less. He tells me that halfway houses are dangerous. He tells me that I'll be bored at the camp. He says things the way they are. He will not send people to GED testing if they have not shown the effort and caring he expects. He's hard. Some people don't like him. I respect him more than most any staff member here. He wants the best for each inmate. He works very, very hard. He may sometimes overstep his expectations on inmates, and say things that people think are wrong, such as, "you are all inmates. Inmates lie. I am not going to believe your stories, even if you say you are not lying, because you are manipulative and criminals." That's tough that he puts us all into these categories. To me, what he's really saying is that some of us are authentic, but he has no way of knowing who - so he has to treat us all the same. It may hurt some people at times, but at least we know up front his expectations and that allows us to try and thrive to meet them.
A blog about a woman sentenced to one year and one day in a federal women's prison camp and was sent to FMC Carswell for a crime related to her history of compulsive gambling.
Highlights
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Friday, December 13, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
From Dragonfly: No Raise For Me
After three months on the job in education, we officially can get a grade increase - to 17 cents per hour. I was approved for one and my last paycheck should have reflected it. It did not. So, I went to the teacher involved in payroll and asked why my raise was not reflected. She informed me that it is because the system doesn't show that I have my HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA. Still! So, I went to the teacher who is in charge of getting high school diplomas. 2 1/2 months ago, I filled out paperwork with her to obtain my degree (this is before I was brought in for the TABE test). I had assumed that my high school/ education department had ignored the request. I also asked my mom to have the school send the transcripts to carswell. Well, this teacher informed me that she HAD NOT sent the request to my school - yet. Ummm, 2 1/2 months? I asked if there was any way I could help in the process (I could punch in the fax numbers or write in the address or something), but she said "no." She informed me to have someone at home go to the school and/or education department for me. I have NO idea WHY they didn't send off my request or anyone elses (for that matter). In my new class, I have no less than 6 students who are forced to take GED classes, even though they already have a high school degree. Now, I learn that no one here has requested their degrees, so they have no chance of having it "show up." I'm not sure the hold up, but I do think it a bit unreasonable. Plus, I am missing out on my 5 cents per hour. An extra $5 per month could purchase me important hygeine items and/or go toward my FRP payments.
Okay, sometimes I just have to reflect on the insanity of this place - as I did above. Every day we are hit with something new that has no logic behind it. As someone who is very logically minded, it just continues to make me shake my head. I wonder if all prisons are like this.
I have something big to look forward to this weekend. Sporty and T.S. are coming for a visit. I will spend two days with them in the not-so-well setup visitation room. With 12-14 hours together, they'd better be thinking about the stuff they want to talk about. I don't want to spend all the time talking about this place! I'm so proud of T.S., today she finishes her last final of her first semester of college. She is doing well and has a good semester planned for the Spring. By the time she finishes off this first year, I will be heading home. I will probably just sit back this weekend and be in awe of her youth, stories, courage, intelligence, and kindness. She is such an awesome young woman!
No matter the fact that I am not getting my raise, even though it is for a ridiculous reason, I have SO much to continue to be grateful for. I am not dependent on my paycheck for all things I need/want to purchase. I have an incredible family and great friends who support me every day. I have a locker full of wonderful books that carry my thoughts away to a different world. I have wonderful craft supplies that allow me to explore my creativity. I have friends in prison, who can connect with me on the insanity of it all. I have this opportunity to write, something I hope to do more and more once this experience is over (and I'm not spending 5 cents per minute dishing out my thoughts, experiences and observations).
I am finding my hope once again and, also, concentrating on gratitude. Never give up hope!
Okay, sometimes I just have to reflect on the insanity of this place - as I did above. Every day we are hit with something new that has no logic behind it. As someone who is very logically minded, it just continues to make me shake my head. I wonder if all prisons are like this.
I have something big to look forward to this weekend. Sporty and T.S. are coming for a visit. I will spend two days with them in the not-so-well setup visitation room. With 12-14 hours together, they'd better be thinking about the stuff they want to talk about. I don't want to spend all the time talking about this place! I'm so proud of T.S., today she finishes her last final of her first semester of college. She is doing well and has a good semester planned for the Spring. By the time she finishes off this first year, I will be heading home. I will probably just sit back this weekend and be in awe of her youth, stories, courage, intelligence, and kindness. She is such an awesome young woman!
No matter the fact that I am not getting my raise, even though it is for a ridiculous reason, I have SO much to continue to be grateful for. I am not dependent on my paycheck for all things I need/want to purchase. I have an incredible family and great friends who support me every day. I have a locker full of wonderful books that carry my thoughts away to a different world. I have wonderful craft supplies that allow me to explore my creativity. I have friends in prison, who can connect with me on the insanity of it all. I have this opportunity to write, something I hope to do more and more once this experience is over (and I'm not spending 5 cents per minute dishing out my thoughts, experiences and observations).
I am finding my hope once again and, also, concentrating on gratitude. Never give up hope!
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
From Dragonfly: The Size of Your World
On Wednesdays and Fridays, I don't meet up with Freckles for breakfast. I don't care enough about bananas to wait in a line that long. So, I eat my breakfast in the news/sports room (today was pop tarts and V8 - not a lot of choices from commissary). I always try to watch CNN on the news television, so I can try and see what is happening in the world. For example, today I learned about Obama shaking hands with Castro, a family mourning the shooting death of their child by campus police at a Texas university, and a bad weather system heading to the Northeastern U.S. However, when others are in the news room, they don't want to watch CNN, they will watch local news or a morning show.
I was thinking about "why" they don't want to watch national/international news. I think it is because of perspective. Depending on how long you've been locked up, the world beyond prison becomes much less relevant (unless it is congress changing mandatory minimums or something like that). Instead, it is inmate.com that is the most important news of the day. Who is dating who? Who is fighting who? Who went to the SHU? Who got shots (in trouble) last night? Who got caught doing what with whom? Who will be the next daytime C.O. in the unit? That is their relevant news.
Of course, I'm not talking all inmates, but many cannot connect to a world they have never seen. Some of these inmates have been locked up since their late teens. Prior to that, they may never have traveled out of their small town or city, much less state. For some, Conair is the first airplane they were ever on. For others, they never had the opportunity to go past 7th grade and simply don't have the words or perspective to consider the world beyond their existence.
In GED classes, we realized that we cannot teach social studies - especially the political cartoon unit - without giving the students a perspective that is assumed they have. If the students don't know what happened with President Roosevelt, how can they interpret a political cartoon about him? So, we have to take a large step back and give them the underlying information that GED study book writers assume they have.
I watch the national and international news, because I know that what happens in the world affects me - perhaps not directly, but always indirectly. I also know that by next summer, I will be a part of that world again. When the Philippines recently saw devastation, only Nurse and I would want to see the news about it. We both know people living there. I remember I was once on a cruise ship for 7 days with a friend, when I was in my young 20's. During the time we took the cruise, having too much "fun" to pay attention to the news, we came home to two deaths - one of a Kennedy and the other was Sonny Bono. Everyone was walking about football on skis, and we had no "perspective" to understand the conversation. That's exactly what it is like for many people in prison. I imagine that the longer I am inside these fences, the less the world beyond will matter. When survival, shock, and stress are at their maximum, one can only concentrate on getting through each day. When I leave here, everyone will be talking about some new technology that they are using, and I will need to catch up. I will need to catch up on a lot. At least, I am trying to maintain some sense of the world beyond prison, with what national/international news I can get.
I was thinking about "why" they don't want to watch national/international news. I think it is because of perspective. Depending on how long you've been locked up, the world beyond prison becomes much less relevant (unless it is congress changing mandatory minimums or something like that). Instead, it is inmate.com that is the most important news of the day. Who is dating who? Who is fighting who? Who went to the SHU? Who got shots (in trouble) last night? Who got caught doing what with whom? Who will be the next daytime C.O. in the unit? That is their relevant news.
Of course, I'm not talking all inmates, but many cannot connect to a world they have never seen. Some of these inmates have been locked up since their late teens. Prior to that, they may never have traveled out of their small town or city, much less state. For some, Conair is the first airplane they were ever on. For others, they never had the opportunity to go past 7th grade and simply don't have the words or perspective to consider the world beyond their existence.
In GED classes, we realized that we cannot teach social studies - especially the political cartoon unit - without giving the students a perspective that is assumed they have. If the students don't know what happened with President Roosevelt, how can they interpret a political cartoon about him? So, we have to take a large step back and give them the underlying information that GED study book writers assume they have.
I watch the national and international news, because I know that what happens in the world affects me - perhaps not directly, but always indirectly. I also know that by next summer, I will be a part of that world again. When the Philippines recently saw devastation, only Nurse and I would want to see the news about it. We both know people living there. I remember I was once on a cruise ship for 7 days with a friend, when I was in my young 20's. During the time we took the cruise, having too much "fun" to pay attention to the news, we came home to two deaths - one of a Kennedy and the other was Sonny Bono. Everyone was walking about football on skis, and we had no "perspective" to understand the conversation. That's exactly what it is like for many people in prison. I imagine that the longer I am inside these fences, the less the world beyond will matter. When survival, shock, and stress are at their maximum, one can only concentrate on getting through each day. When I leave here, everyone will be talking about some new technology that they are using, and I will need to catch up. I will need to catch up on a lot. At least, I am trying to maintain some sense of the world beyond prison, with what national/international news I can get.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
From Dragonfly: What a Difference a Year Makes
One year ago, I was taking my final exams, preparing for my comprehensive exams, traveling to my hometown to spend time with family and friends, and trying to deal with my new health issues. I was not driving. I was testing my oxygen levels all the time. I was waiting to find out when the legal case against me would move forward. It would not be until late February that I would be officially indicted and March when I was arraigned. One year ago, I had no idea that I would be spending my holidays in prison. I also had no idea what prison would be like. I wrongly thought it was "behind bars" and that I would be in a typical cell seen on television. I had never met a cold-blooded killer or a person accused of insidious sex crimes. I'd never met a bank robber or someone that had illegally sold guns internationally. One year ago, I lived by myself, creating a welcoming space for Cache who would soon move in for a couple months as she sought her own housing. I had a holiday party that included hot chocolate with ALL the fixings. One year ago, the most important news I'd received was that I was accepted for the professional experience in South Africa. I prayed that my health would not keep me from going. One year ago, I was seeing at least two doctors per week - getting new diagnoses almost weekly - and trying to accept that my physical life would never be the same again. One year ago, T.S. visited me for a long break and we spent many special days together. One year ago, T.S.'s applications to various colleges were being considered and we were waiting on pins and needles for results. One year ago, I would sit on my computer for hours every day and do research, hang out on Facebook, and email directly to friends. One year ago, I wrote a conference proposal, interviewed several people for research, and worked closely with Traveler as we had many projects together. One year ago, I was an upstanding member of my academic department and my Adviser had my back and I was earning scholarships and fellowships.
None of these changes matter, though, because we cannot live in the past. I am where I am, today, and one year from now, my life will be 100% different than it is today. That is true for me, but for many people around me, they will still be in Carswell, doing the same thing every day, and not even remembering what life is like on the outside. For some of them, I'm glad they are not part of the general population. They did terrible acts and/or are scary people. Others, though, are not, and yet they are sentenced to an incredibly long time away.
Every meal at Chow, more people than not, put their heads down and pray before they eat. I wonder if they prayed before they came to prison. I wonder if they pray for freedom or just for their gratitude to have food on their tray. Prison, it seems, brings people closer to their spirituality and religion. Some change religions. Some learn about different forms of spirituality.
Things change when we go to prison. It's inevitable. Many of my friends are taking their finals this week (mostly just writing papers). They are preparing for their last academic class, where they will work on their dissertation proposal, having already passed comps last year. Their lives are moving forward, yet are very similar to a year ago. A couple of my friends have new babies in their lives and are loving watching them develop into little people. My father is still recovering from his stroke. My mother has a new job. Sporty and T.S. are living in a new city and state. Many people could look back a year and say that their life is very different from before.
We must believe that it is all for a purpose, that we are not in control, and that we will be somewhere else again soon. If we let go, we move forward. I don't know exactly what my life will consist of in one year, but I do know, it will be entirely different from what it is right now.
None of these changes matter, though, because we cannot live in the past. I am where I am, today, and one year from now, my life will be 100% different than it is today. That is true for me, but for many people around me, they will still be in Carswell, doing the same thing every day, and not even remembering what life is like on the outside. For some of them, I'm glad they are not part of the general population. They did terrible acts and/or are scary people. Others, though, are not, and yet they are sentenced to an incredibly long time away.
Every meal at Chow, more people than not, put their heads down and pray before they eat. I wonder if they prayed before they came to prison. I wonder if they pray for freedom or just for their gratitude to have food on their tray. Prison, it seems, brings people closer to their spirituality and religion. Some change religions. Some learn about different forms of spirituality.
Things change when we go to prison. It's inevitable. Many of my friends are taking their finals this week (mostly just writing papers). They are preparing for their last academic class, where they will work on their dissertation proposal, having already passed comps last year. Their lives are moving forward, yet are very similar to a year ago. A couple of my friends have new babies in their lives and are loving watching them develop into little people. My father is still recovering from his stroke. My mother has a new job. Sporty and T.S. are living in a new city and state. Many people could look back a year and say that their life is very different from before.
We must believe that it is all for a purpose, that we are not in control, and that we will be somewhere else again soon. If we let go, we move forward. I don't know exactly what my life will consist of in one year, but I do know, it will be entirely different from what it is right now.
From Dragonfly: Passivity
In my life, prior to recovery, I was very, very passive. Everyone who knew me, knew that I could stand up for others, but not myself. I was always concerned with what others thought of me - my entire self-esteem was built on reputation. I took it incredibly personal when someone was mean to me - and I allowed myself to be the victim of all types of abuse. In many ways, I believed I deserved it. This was in my "broken" sense of self, lost in addiction and victimization.
It took a couple years of recovery and counseling, but I learned to say, "no," and mean it. I learned to set limits and have healthy relationships. I learned where my passivity stemmed from and I worked hard to change myself. It is a process, likely lifelong, but it is always interesting to see me not act passive. It shocks me as much as anyone else. I used to just allow myself to be pushed around, I didn't even think about it, and, now, I have boundaries.
I had a test as to my passivity last night. As I've written before, three days of being iced in has made everyone restless... and I must add that today is ANOTHER day of being iced in... no work, no education, no activities... anyway, I digress.
Anyway, last night after dinner, I came back to the unit (no where else to go) and wanted to work on a creative project I am doing. The atrium offered no available tables or chairs, so I set up at the small desk in my room. No one was there, and it's the perfect surface. It is about a foot and a half long and 2 feet wide. I took all my items and set them up on the table and my bed (which is directly to the left). Colored pencils, markers, glue, notes, pictures, drawings, cards, etc. Everything was placed where I could easily reach it and I started to work on my project.
Next thing I know, my roommate walks in and asks me, "how long are you going to be at the table?" I respond that I don't know, I'm working on a project. She informs me that she is unable to be in her bed if I am sitting at the table, because she is 'clausterphobic.' I tell her that I don't know how long I will be, but she's welcome to sit on her bed. She continues to argue with me that my being at the table is disrespectful to her. Now, just two days ago, she was at the table for hours working on making a cheese cake. I said nothing. It's a table that all four of us can use - that's why it is there.
I tell her that I'm sorry she is uncomfortable on her bed with me on the table stool, but I really want to work on my project and there are no available chairs or table space in the atrium. So, she starts to scream at me that I am inconveniencing her and not respecting her needs. I say nothing and go back to my project. She then informs me that when I am on my bed wanting to sit, she will sit at the desk. I say, "That's fine. That's the reason the small desk is here." I go back to my project. She calls me a bunch of really ugly names, says I'm being inconsiderate, and storms off.
I sit there shocked for a minute. In my past life, I would have done anything and everything to avoid any confrontation. I knew she was being unreasonable, but I would have still given in and moved and stopped working on my project. As always, others heard this disagreement from outside the room and was telling me how insane she is, that she is so selfish, and that they are glad I stood up for myself. I am, too. Of course, now, she has not said a word to me in a day. I'm fine with that.
Funny thing is an observation Army and I made about Bandana. As soon as one of us starts talking to the other, Bandana will start singing loudly or start a conversation with Braids. She does it intentionally to make it difficult for me and Army to talk. Just last night, I was working on a crossword and asked Army if she knew the name of a Venetian boat ("Gondola" - but I'd spaced on it). Anyway, Bandana starts loudly singing her song as we discuss the word. Army thinks it is because Army is intimidated by the more intelligent conversations Army and I have. I don't know the reason, all I know is that Bandana is much more inconsiderate than I could ever be!
Now, I could have just given in to Bandana and stopped using the desk. There was no where else I could go to do my project, but I could have just given in to her and things would be much less stressful. That's what she wants. She wants to see that she can "control" me. She's been locked up for 12 years - since she was 19 years old - and only knows life as a convict. On the other hand, I will leave here in months and I need to leave here being at least as strong as I was when I entered. Sure, I am passive at times... Braids asks me to get something out of her locker almost every time I'm standing at mine. I say, "yes," because it is in no way out of my way and there's no good reason for me to say, "no." She doesn't ask if I'm in my bed.
It's important in prison to not be passive. It is also important to always remember that others' attitudes, activities, choices, aggression, bad behaviors, smells, passivity, violence, etc. has nothing to do with you. It is about them. Best thing to do is to separate yourself from their negativity and find something to keep you busy - for me it's all my projects. Usually, work also helps. When I have none of these things, I read. It's just like "filling the void" with recovery - we need to find healthy activities to keep us busy and away from the craziness.
I am no longer the passive person that everyone can push around. I am proud of this growth. It makes me a better person, even if it pisses off those who want a victim. I am not their victim. They may be angry, but that is not my fault. "No," is a very real part of my vocabulary now.
It took a couple years of recovery and counseling, but I learned to say, "no," and mean it. I learned to set limits and have healthy relationships. I learned where my passivity stemmed from and I worked hard to change myself. It is a process, likely lifelong, but it is always interesting to see me not act passive. It shocks me as much as anyone else. I used to just allow myself to be pushed around, I didn't even think about it, and, now, I have boundaries.
I had a test as to my passivity last night. As I've written before, three days of being iced in has made everyone restless... and I must add that today is ANOTHER day of being iced in... no work, no education, no activities... anyway, I digress.
Anyway, last night after dinner, I came back to the unit (no where else to go) and wanted to work on a creative project I am doing. The atrium offered no available tables or chairs, so I set up at the small desk in my room. No one was there, and it's the perfect surface. It is about a foot and a half long and 2 feet wide. I took all my items and set them up on the table and my bed (which is directly to the left). Colored pencils, markers, glue, notes, pictures, drawings, cards, etc. Everything was placed where I could easily reach it and I started to work on my project.
Next thing I know, my roommate walks in and asks me, "how long are you going to be at the table?" I respond that I don't know, I'm working on a project. She informs me that she is unable to be in her bed if I am sitting at the table, because she is 'clausterphobic.' I tell her that I don't know how long I will be, but she's welcome to sit on her bed. She continues to argue with me that my being at the table is disrespectful to her. Now, just two days ago, she was at the table for hours working on making a cheese cake. I said nothing. It's a table that all four of us can use - that's why it is there.
I tell her that I'm sorry she is uncomfortable on her bed with me on the table stool, but I really want to work on my project and there are no available chairs or table space in the atrium. So, she starts to scream at me that I am inconveniencing her and not respecting her needs. I say nothing and go back to my project. She then informs me that when I am on my bed wanting to sit, she will sit at the desk. I say, "That's fine. That's the reason the small desk is here." I go back to my project. She calls me a bunch of really ugly names, says I'm being inconsiderate, and storms off.
I sit there shocked for a minute. In my past life, I would have done anything and everything to avoid any confrontation. I knew she was being unreasonable, but I would have still given in and moved and stopped working on my project. As always, others heard this disagreement from outside the room and was telling me how insane she is, that she is so selfish, and that they are glad I stood up for myself. I am, too. Of course, now, she has not said a word to me in a day. I'm fine with that.
Funny thing is an observation Army and I made about Bandana. As soon as one of us starts talking to the other, Bandana will start singing loudly or start a conversation with Braids. She does it intentionally to make it difficult for me and Army to talk. Just last night, I was working on a crossword and asked Army if she knew the name of a Venetian boat ("Gondola" - but I'd spaced on it). Anyway, Bandana starts loudly singing her song as we discuss the word. Army thinks it is because Army is intimidated by the more intelligent conversations Army and I have. I don't know the reason, all I know is that Bandana is much more inconsiderate than I could ever be!
Now, I could have just given in to Bandana and stopped using the desk. There was no where else I could go to do my project, but I could have just given in to her and things would be much less stressful. That's what she wants. She wants to see that she can "control" me. She's been locked up for 12 years - since she was 19 years old - and only knows life as a convict. On the other hand, I will leave here in months and I need to leave here being at least as strong as I was when I entered. Sure, I am passive at times... Braids asks me to get something out of her locker almost every time I'm standing at mine. I say, "yes," because it is in no way out of my way and there's no good reason for me to say, "no." She doesn't ask if I'm in my bed.
It's important in prison to not be passive. It is also important to always remember that others' attitudes, activities, choices, aggression, bad behaviors, smells, passivity, violence, etc. has nothing to do with you. It is about them. Best thing to do is to separate yourself from their negativity and find something to keep you busy - for me it's all my projects. Usually, work also helps. When I have none of these things, I read. It's just like "filling the void" with recovery - we need to find healthy activities to keep us busy and away from the craziness.
I am no longer the passive person that everyone can push around. I am proud of this growth. It makes me a better person, even if it pisses off those who want a victim. I am not their victim. They may be angry, but that is not my fault. "No," is a very real part of my vocabulary now.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
From Dragonfly: Iced In
Grand Rapids/Dallas is at a stand-still, ever since Thursday night's sleet storm. People cannot get out of their homes because their cars are in the garage and their streets are covered in ice. People around here do not have the northerners experience of driving on ice (not that anyone should - I tore my ACL for the 4th time when I fell on black ice on my campus almost 2 years ago). Anyway, the ice has given everyone a couple days at home with their families. This morning, I even saw that a ton of churches cancelled services.
With this storm, many officers have not made it to Carswell. There is only one cleared sidewalk - the shortest distance between the housing unit and the main/medical building. Therefore, the Carswell Compound is closed. They even cancelled visitation for the entire weekend. I feel horrible for any family members who made the trek (possibly from far distances) to see their loved one, only to find out that they cancelled visitation. Now, I need to say that the ice is about a half inch at places and is mostly snowy ice on the grass areas. Back in the Midwest, a bunch of sand and/or salt would have cleared this campus in hours. However, they do not stock these things here, because these kinds of storms don't happen here (usually).
Since it is not a cleared walkway, we are not able to go to indoor rec for days. So, since people depend on the equipment to work out at indoor rec, they are doing laps in the housing units - upstairs, walk a hallway, down stair, walk the floor, back upstairs, walk a hallway, downstairs... and so on. One woman I know walked 3 miles that way yesterday. I wanted to go to indoor rec to order some different colors of yarn for crocheting. The order was due by last night - for delivery in late January... I am hoping they extend the deadline due to them being closed. But, here at Carswell, rules, not logic, make decisions. If I have to wait, I will not receive the yarn until late February. Talk about needing to plan ahead!!
It is also not allowed for anyone to stay outside, other than the walk between buildings. I've seen many people, especially those from Mexico, trying to touch snow for the first time in their life. I heard one say, "It's so cold." I can't imagine having only seen snow on television and never played in it in real life. Anyway, since they were off the walking path, they got in trouble for being on the snow. My dream snowman was never built.
Everyone is pretty much stuck inside their housing units, now, for the third day in a row. If you want to see restlessness, that's what it is like. I've seen fighting come from nothing, screaming about mundane issues, and rudeness like never before. There are not even enough chairs for the number of people in the unit, so when someone goes to the bathroom, their chair disappears with someone taking it elsewhere and claiming it for their own butt.
I spent the last couple days crocheting, card sending, doing crosswords, reading, and watching football. I was able to sign up for the sports television yesterday in order to watch a couple AMAZING college football championships. I must have looked a lot like my mother does when she sits with my step-dad and watches football. I was crocheting and watching. She knits sometimes. I always watched her and couldn't figure out how she does her knitting and television, but yesterday, I did both as well. Guess I am becoming a better crocheter. Oh, and I crochet like NOONE else... I can't hold the hook and string right because of pain in my hands, but I have a two handed way of doing it that works great. It's slower than most crocheters. My friends say I am 'knitcheting' because it almost looks like I am knitting, but with the single crochet hook.
Iced-in days are very slow. All we do is sit around. The C.O.s that make it to Carswell are restless as well. Yesterday, 18 people had to do "extra duty" because they got into trouble in my unit.
People are also trying to hustle hard this weekend for the things they want. I've been asked for some of my yarn many, many times. I am not engaging in the mass hustle this weekend. I have everything I need and plan to shop commissary again tomorrow (if it is open). People are paying crazy amounts of money for their hustles too --- robes going for $75, food items for 2x their normal cost, and coffee is at a premium right now. In addition, the line for phones and in the email room are absolutely crazy.
I hope that tomorrow becomes a normal day at Carswell once again. Today the weather should be above freezing for a couple hours and then tomorrow it warms up even more. Throughout this week, we will be on a warming trend - not hot, but above freezing. I hope this weekend may prompt Carswell to have weather contingency plans in the future.
With this storm, many officers have not made it to Carswell. There is only one cleared sidewalk - the shortest distance between the housing unit and the main/medical building. Therefore, the Carswell Compound is closed. They even cancelled visitation for the entire weekend. I feel horrible for any family members who made the trek (possibly from far distances) to see their loved one, only to find out that they cancelled visitation. Now, I need to say that the ice is about a half inch at places and is mostly snowy ice on the grass areas. Back in the Midwest, a bunch of sand and/or salt would have cleared this campus in hours. However, they do not stock these things here, because these kinds of storms don't happen here (usually).
Since it is not a cleared walkway, we are not able to go to indoor rec for days. So, since people depend on the equipment to work out at indoor rec, they are doing laps in the housing units - upstairs, walk a hallway, down stair, walk the floor, back upstairs, walk a hallway, downstairs... and so on. One woman I know walked 3 miles that way yesterday. I wanted to go to indoor rec to order some different colors of yarn for crocheting. The order was due by last night - for delivery in late January... I am hoping they extend the deadline due to them being closed. But, here at Carswell, rules, not logic, make decisions. If I have to wait, I will not receive the yarn until late February. Talk about needing to plan ahead!!
It is also not allowed for anyone to stay outside, other than the walk between buildings. I've seen many people, especially those from Mexico, trying to touch snow for the first time in their life. I heard one say, "It's so cold." I can't imagine having only seen snow on television and never played in it in real life. Anyway, since they were off the walking path, they got in trouble for being on the snow. My dream snowman was never built.
Everyone is pretty much stuck inside their housing units, now, for the third day in a row. If you want to see restlessness, that's what it is like. I've seen fighting come from nothing, screaming about mundane issues, and rudeness like never before. There are not even enough chairs for the number of people in the unit, so when someone goes to the bathroom, their chair disappears with someone taking it elsewhere and claiming it for their own butt.
I spent the last couple days crocheting, card sending, doing crosswords, reading, and watching football. I was able to sign up for the sports television yesterday in order to watch a couple AMAZING college football championships. I must have looked a lot like my mother does when she sits with my step-dad and watches football. I was crocheting and watching. She knits sometimes. I always watched her and couldn't figure out how she does her knitting and television, but yesterday, I did both as well. Guess I am becoming a better crocheter. Oh, and I crochet like NOONE else... I can't hold the hook and string right because of pain in my hands, but I have a two handed way of doing it that works great. It's slower than most crocheters. My friends say I am 'knitcheting' because it almost looks like I am knitting, but with the single crochet hook.
Iced-in days are very slow. All we do is sit around. The C.O.s that make it to Carswell are restless as well. Yesterday, 18 people had to do "extra duty" because they got into trouble in my unit.
People are also trying to hustle hard this weekend for the things they want. I've been asked for some of my yarn many, many times. I am not engaging in the mass hustle this weekend. I have everything I need and plan to shop commissary again tomorrow (if it is open). People are paying crazy amounts of money for their hustles too --- robes going for $75, food items for 2x their normal cost, and coffee is at a premium right now. In addition, the line for phones and in the email room are absolutely crazy.
I hope that tomorrow becomes a normal day at Carswell once again. Today the weather should be above freezing for a couple hours and then tomorrow it warms up even more. Throughout this week, we will be on a warming trend - not hot, but above freezing. I hope this weekend may prompt Carswell to have weather contingency plans in the future.