I hadn't realized the stress that living with "crazy," had been causing in my life. My new room has no "crazy" and it is pretty mellow. Since I started at Carswell, I lived with 2 groups of semi-changing roommates - the ones in the bus stop and the roommates I had for the last 4 1/2 months. Well, one week in my new digs and my stress level has decreased. I'm not saying that it is totally gone (by no means), but it is better and I like my roommates. Even my bunky - who had been fairly silent to me - has opened up and we have had several good conversations. Three of us are leaving within the next 4 months and I think that puts us all in the mindset of getting home, not living here.
The tragedy of Sporty's brother, who is now on life support, has hit me very hard. Everyone is now traveling down to where he lives, so they can do their "goodbyes." As I had anticipated, the kids are having a really hard time. The docs say that there's nothing they can do - so it's going to be just a short time before he passes. It's hard to believe someone could go to the hospital with symptoms 48 hours ago and now he's leaving us. I hate that I can't be with them all - as they are part of my family now as well, they've been there for me, and they are just wonderful people. My thoughts are with them all throughout this time.
I'm struggling with the fact that my exit paperwork is still not completed. I do not understand why the process takes so long, but for months, now, we've been waiting. Until that paperwork is complete, and my case worker receives it from the medical department, no work can be done on getting me to halfway house or home. There's nothing like the feeling of powerlessness you have when all you can do is wait, and pray, hoping that you won't be one of the folks who has to "max out" to their end date because the paperwork was never sent on their behalf.
So, it's another day incarcerated. My life is not too exciting right now. I am playing Pat Sajak today, as we run a game of jeopardy with the students. I was asked to make all the questions and I'm happy to be something a little more entertaining with the students for a day. Their prize will be an extra "calculator day," because they are only authorized to use a calculator two days/week. So, be good all, and pray for Sporty's family, who is losing an angel.
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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Saturday, March 1, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
From Dragonfly: The Hardest Times
The most difficult times being in prison is not when things are hard in here, but when things are hard back home and I can't be there to help my loved ones through it. Weeks ago, my step-grandfather fell and broke his hip. He is 95 years strong, but this is weakening him. He was still living independently, but is now at a rehab and having difficulty with some basic living tasks. My mother and step-father are doing everything they can to be there for him and with him, but I know that I would be there, too, if I were able to be home. I would also be there just for my folks to talk to and be support.
As I've mentioned before, my father had a stroke the week of my sentencing. He and his wife live in the Southwest and are not near any of my family. It doesn't really matter, because no one in my family talks to him, except me. But, I've been unable to visit him once since his stroke. He now has trouble communicating and even doing things he once loved - like spending hours on end on his computer. When I talk with him by phone, he has trouble saying what he is thinking and often gets frustrated. I wish I could visit him and just spend time with him. Time would make up for all the lost communication between us.
Now, I've learned that a member of Sporty's family is very ill, and it's not looking good. I know him well, and I know how devastating this is for her entire family. They lost her sister, way too young, five years ago, and now her mom may have to bury another child. I pray that somehow he is able to fight this. He has a brain tumor and was induced into a coma yesterday. The hospital says it doesn't look good, but I know that anything is possible. He is a wonderful and loving father, husband, uncle, brother, and son - the kind that other men should look up to. I wish I could be there with them all at this time, just to express my prayers and thoughts and to be there the way they've all been there for me. He has always loved the arts, especially theater, and even in his coma, I know he is singing a beautiful song to everyone in the family, especially his children!
It's so easy to get lost into our own lives here; that we distance ourselves from others, and forget that life continues on the outside, even while we are gone. Our role in our families, relationships, and friendships is missing and our loved ones need to be able to move forward with that void. However, at times when things are their toughest, we need to find a way to be there, even if not in person, to show that we still care, that the world does not revolve around us and our imprisonment; that there are much bigger things in this world that matter. I know that the one thing that would be the hardest for me, while incarcerated, would be to lose a loved one, and not be able to be there. I pray that this doesn't happen and that all the men I wrote of above find their way to health and into their family's arms once again.
As I've mentioned before, my father had a stroke the week of my sentencing. He and his wife live in the Southwest and are not near any of my family. It doesn't really matter, because no one in my family talks to him, except me. But, I've been unable to visit him once since his stroke. He now has trouble communicating and even doing things he once loved - like spending hours on end on his computer. When I talk with him by phone, he has trouble saying what he is thinking and often gets frustrated. I wish I could visit him and just spend time with him. Time would make up for all the lost communication between us.
Now, I've learned that a member of Sporty's family is very ill, and it's not looking good. I know him well, and I know how devastating this is for her entire family. They lost her sister, way too young, five years ago, and now her mom may have to bury another child. I pray that somehow he is able to fight this. He has a brain tumor and was induced into a coma yesterday. The hospital says it doesn't look good, but I know that anything is possible. He is a wonderful and loving father, husband, uncle, brother, and son - the kind that other men should look up to. I wish I could be there with them all at this time, just to express my prayers and thoughts and to be there the way they've all been there for me. He has always loved the arts, especially theater, and even in his coma, I know he is singing a beautiful song to everyone in the family, especially his children!
It's so easy to get lost into our own lives here; that we distance ourselves from others, and forget that life continues on the outside, even while we are gone. Our role in our families, relationships, and friendships is missing and our loved ones need to be able to move forward with that void. However, at times when things are their toughest, we need to find a way to be there, even if not in person, to show that we still care, that the world does not revolve around us and our imprisonment; that there are much bigger things in this world that matter. I know that the one thing that would be the hardest for me, while incarcerated, would be to lose a loved one, and not be able to be there. I pray that this doesn't happen and that all the men I wrote of above find their way to health and into their family's arms once again.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
From Dragonfly: Education Thinking
I have to say that I see my experience here as "experiential learning." There is a lot of literature about the kind of learning people do through experience, especially extreme experiences. I am in the midst of one of those experiences here. I can never fully turn off my academic brain, so I often wake up thinking about something in a more academic way, rather than just as it is.
For example, my experience working in education has broadened my mind on self-paced education, motivation behind learning, and other factors. It is especially enlightening to be doing things without access to technology, and seeing how technology can enhance and hinder learning environments. These are things that I will continue to consider as I work my way back into my studies (if I am given that opportunity) and/or in my future as an educator.
Another experience that has been profound is the reality of living in tight quarters with people who are vastly different from yourself. This also happens in college, when freshman are given a room assignment, often with a complete stranger. I find it interesting to see what dynamics seem to work well, and which ones do not. On a side note, both of the new women in my old room are already trying to get out of the room. They question how I successfully lived with Braids for 4 1/2 months. They don't realize that it was a constant negotiation between Braids, Bandana and myself. Now, two women who have been locked up far longer than I, are unable to handle that negotiation. This, too, teaches me a lot. It teaches me a lot about myself - I am capable of being in unacceptable situations and making them work. I am much less passive than I used to be, yet, I also have to have my limits of understanding what is acceptable behavior in myself. I do not want to find myself going to negative places in my head, just because I am experiencing anger or frustration, instead, I have learned to relax, spend time by myself, take myself out of unhealthy moments, and clear my mind enough to sleep.
I've also learned a lot about friendship. I thought I knew what friendship was. I was certainly surrounded by wonderful people prior to my incarceration. However, in the past 7 months, I have learned so much more. There are people I barely considered on the outside, who have been pillars of support for me. There are people on the outside that I thought were close friends, who actually chose to distance themselves from me. There are long term friends who overwhelm me everyday with their care and love and guidance, who I cherish deeply. There are people in prison, a place I never thought I would make a friend, who I hope to connect with beyond our times here. It's amazing, the value of a true friend.
Anyway, that's what's been on my mind lately. I'm off to go spend my afternoon teaching sentence combining, fragments, and conjunction words. I will also do some fractions, decimals and percents. Mostly, I will be grading people's packets. I guess that's a good day in prison.
For example, my experience working in education has broadened my mind on self-paced education, motivation behind learning, and other factors. It is especially enlightening to be doing things without access to technology, and seeing how technology can enhance and hinder learning environments. These are things that I will continue to consider as I work my way back into my studies (if I am given that opportunity) and/or in my future as an educator.
Another experience that has been profound is the reality of living in tight quarters with people who are vastly different from yourself. This also happens in college, when freshman are given a room assignment, often with a complete stranger. I find it interesting to see what dynamics seem to work well, and which ones do not. On a side note, both of the new women in my old room are already trying to get out of the room. They question how I successfully lived with Braids for 4 1/2 months. They don't realize that it was a constant negotiation between Braids, Bandana and myself. Now, two women who have been locked up far longer than I, are unable to handle that negotiation. This, too, teaches me a lot. It teaches me a lot about myself - I am capable of being in unacceptable situations and making them work. I am much less passive than I used to be, yet, I also have to have my limits of understanding what is acceptable behavior in myself. I do not want to find myself going to negative places in my head, just because I am experiencing anger or frustration, instead, I have learned to relax, spend time by myself, take myself out of unhealthy moments, and clear my mind enough to sleep.
I've also learned a lot about friendship. I thought I knew what friendship was. I was certainly surrounded by wonderful people prior to my incarceration. However, in the past 7 months, I have learned so much more. There are people I barely considered on the outside, who have been pillars of support for me. There are people on the outside that I thought were close friends, who actually chose to distance themselves from me. There are long term friends who overwhelm me everyday with their care and love and guidance, who I cherish deeply. There are people in prison, a place I never thought I would make a friend, who I hope to connect with beyond our times here. It's amazing, the value of a true friend.
Anyway, that's what's been on my mind lately. I'm off to go spend my afternoon teaching sentence combining, fragments, and conjunction words. I will also do some fractions, decimals and percents. Mostly, I will be grading people's packets. I guess that's a good day in prison.
From Dragonfly: You Are Going to Camp
I am getting used to being told that I am going to the camp across the street. When I was told this two days ago, by my case worker, I counted that it was about the sixth time a staff member has informed me of this since November. Since, for most inmates, it takes about 2-3 weeks to process them for the most across the street, I have a hard time believing that in fact, this time it is going to happen. But, anything is possible, so once again, I need to see daily if I am being told to "pack out" because I am moving. The constant unknown of where I will lay my head at night is a bit overwhelming, but becomes a norm when in prison.
If I am moved across the street, that will be fine, but really, I just want to get back to the Midwest at this point. I don't care if it is home confinement or a halfway house, I want to be closer to my family. I told my case worker that I want to get home, not to camp. She told me to come by yesterday to look and see if my exit summary is done, but when I went by, her office was dark and she was gone for the day. I can't stop by during her open house hours, because it is when I work, so I usually stop by after work. I will try again today. I "bumped" into the doctor that I've never met, but has to release me for the exit summary on Friday. I actually got her attention for 30 seconds and told her that I was awaiting her signatures so that my paperwork could be processed. She mentioned that she was "given" until "Tuesday." We will see if it was done, and maybe, instead of going to the camp, I can be given my official date of being released from Carswell. That would be something!!!
That's the thing about being here - the number one conversation is always about when we are getting out, how to get our paperwork processed, how to understand the paperwork they give us, and how to understand the discrepancies on why one person gets 8 months halfway house and another has to max out their time here, when they are here with similar sentences. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason, particularly, but I do know that it helps if you are not an "ass" to the staff that processes you, and if you ensure they actually know who you are, but stopping by every so often. Everyone has too big a caseload, and so office hour "stop-by's" are important to getting things done on your behalf. Another important factor is how much time you have left on your sentence. Very little can be done until you are about 17-19 months out from going home. So, if you have a short sentence, things start early in your time in prison, but if you have a long sentence, it is not until your last years that you will see much happen on your behalf. That's normal, so don't fret. Just do anything you can do to shorten your time and make the time move faster - programming, sentry credits, RDAP, etc.
In other news, my shampoo has gone missing. This may sound weird, but when you live out of a 3 foot locker, you pretty much know where everything is. Also, I keep my shampoo, along with all my other shower items, in a small "shower bag." So, yesterday, when I went to shower, and there was no shampoo, I was a little distressed. This morning, I tore my locker apart thinking "it must have just fallen out in my locker," but nope. No shampoo. It's easy to think that someone took it. I did have my shower bag hanging outside my locker the other day drying after my shower, but I am unable to confirm anything. Theft happens. If it was stolen, it's my own fault for hanging it in an easy to access area. If it was not stolen, then, somehow, it was lost. Luckily, it's only shampoo and all I can figure is that if someone took it, they must have needed it much more than I do. I will find a friend who has extra shampoo and borrow some until I shop next week. My hair is not greasy, yet.
I'm also happy to report that something positive happened here the last few days medically. A friend I have, here, is a breast cancer survivor and has just finished her radiation treatments. She was noticing swelling, heat, and pain, and went to sick call because of fear of a recurrence. The medical staff worked very swiftly on her behalf, having her get an MRI and an ultrasound within 24 hours. She is cancer free, and the relief can be seen all over her face. They think she may just still be reacting to the treatments, and she will be okay. I've never seen the medical staff work that fast for anyone and it was good.
On the negative side of things, I am very bothered by the fact that I must accept the unacceptable too often. The other day, while playing a game with Lola at inside rec, I went to the restroom. Inside, I saw two inmates who I know to be "dating" having a fight. There was hitting, screaming, crying, and yet, I was unable to do anything. That's what we learn, here, don't involve yourself in anything that is not about you. Had I tried to intervene, it would have been my head on the floor. Of that, I have no doubt. Had I told a staff member, I would have to look over my shoulder for the remainder of my time here. Don't be a snitch. So, I did nothing as domestic violence was occurring, and it made me sick to my stomach. I was unable to get back into my game of Tri-Ominos and I kept worrying about the weaker of the two inmates who were in the midst of their fight. The thing is, these two constantly fight, and it often gets physical. Everyone knows it, yet no one can do anything about it. Bruises are explained away (I hit my face on the upper bunk) and scratches are things that must of occurred while sleeping. These are the same kinds of violence we see in the homes of countless people on the outside. It sickens me that I did nothing and will likely do nothing in the future if I see it again. This is not the person I am. I am an advocate and a feminist and I do not accept violence against women - by men or other women. As I said, I am accepting the unacceptable! Also, just a day later, the two of them were laughing and smiling together, as if the fight had never occurred. As I mentioned, this is a consistent sight when these two inmates are concerned, and I pray, nothing serious ever happens!!
If I am moved across the street, that will be fine, but really, I just want to get back to the Midwest at this point. I don't care if it is home confinement or a halfway house, I want to be closer to my family. I told my case worker that I want to get home, not to camp. She told me to come by yesterday to look and see if my exit summary is done, but when I went by, her office was dark and she was gone for the day. I can't stop by during her open house hours, because it is when I work, so I usually stop by after work. I will try again today. I "bumped" into the doctor that I've never met, but has to release me for the exit summary on Friday. I actually got her attention for 30 seconds and told her that I was awaiting her signatures so that my paperwork could be processed. She mentioned that she was "given" until "Tuesday." We will see if it was done, and maybe, instead of going to the camp, I can be given my official date of being released from Carswell. That would be something!!!
That's the thing about being here - the number one conversation is always about when we are getting out, how to get our paperwork processed, how to understand the paperwork they give us, and how to understand the discrepancies on why one person gets 8 months halfway house and another has to max out their time here, when they are here with similar sentences. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason, particularly, but I do know that it helps if you are not an "ass" to the staff that processes you, and if you ensure they actually know who you are, but stopping by every so often. Everyone has too big a caseload, and so office hour "stop-by's" are important to getting things done on your behalf. Another important factor is how much time you have left on your sentence. Very little can be done until you are about 17-19 months out from going home. So, if you have a short sentence, things start early in your time in prison, but if you have a long sentence, it is not until your last years that you will see much happen on your behalf. That's normal, so don't fret. Just do anything you can do to shorten your time and make the time move faster - programming, sentry credits, RDAP, etc.
In other news, my shampoo has gone missing. This may sound weird, but when you live out of a 3 foot locker, you pretty much know where everything is. Also, I keep my shampoo, along with all my other shower items, in a small "shower bag." So, yesterday, when I went to shower, and there was no shampoo, I was a little distressed. This morning, I tore my locker apart thinking "it must have just fallen out in my locker," but nope. No shampoo. It's easy to think that someone took it. I did have my shower bag hanging outside my locker the other day drying after my shower, but I am unable to confirm anything. Theft happens. If it was stolen, it's my own fault for hanging it in an easy to access area. If it was not stolen, then, somehow, it was lost. Luckily, it's only shampoo and all I can figure is that if someone took it, they must have needed it much more than I do. I will find a friend who has extra shampoo and borrow some until I shop next week. My hair is not greasy, yet.
I'm also happy to report that something positive happened here the last few days medically. A friend I have, here, is a breast cancer survivor and has just finished her radiation treatments. She was noticing swelling, heat, and pain, and went to sick call because of fear of a recurrence. The medical staff worked very swiftly on her behalf, having her get an MRI and an ultrasound within 24 hours. She is cancer free, and the relief can be seen all over her face. They think she may just still be reacting to the treatments, and she will be okay. I've never seen the medical staff work that fast for anyone and it was good.
On the negative side of things, I am very bothered by the fact that I must accept the unacceptable too often. The other day, while playing a game with Lola at inside rec, I went to the restroom. Inside, I saw two inmates who I know to be "dating" having a fight. There was hitting, screaming, crying, and yet, I was unable to do anything. That's what we learn, here, don't involve yourself in anything that is not about you. Had I tried to intervene, it would have been my head on the floor. Of that, I have no doubt. Had I told a staff member, I would have to look over my shoulder for the remainder of my time here. Don't be a snitch. So, I did nothing as domestic violence was occurring, and it made me sick to my stomach. I was unable to get back into my game of Tri-Ominos and I kept worrying about the weaker of the two inmates who were in the midst of their fight. The thing is, these two constantly fight, and it often gets physical. Everyone knows it, yet no one can do anything about it. Bruises are explained away (I hit my face on the upper bunk) and scratches are things that must of occurred while sleeping. These are the same kinds of violence we see in the homes of countless people on the outside. It sickens me that I did nothing and will likely do nothing in the future if I see it again. This is not the person I am. I am an advocate and a feminist and I do not accept violence against women - by men or other women. As I said, I am accepting the unacceptable! Also, just a day later, the two of them were laughing and smiling together, as if the fight had never occurred. As I mentioned, this is a consistent sight when these two inmates are concerned, and I pray, nothing serious ever happens!!
Monday, February 24, 2014
From Dragonfly: My New Room
I'm getting used to my new surroundings. The room has a lot more light in it at night than my prior two rooms, due to it's location. I may have to crochet myself an eye mask. My bunky still has not said much to me, but she does speak English fluently. She has silver streaks in her hair, so I'm going to call her Silver. She really keeps to herself, but likes things a very certain way in the room. Silver uses the table a lot, so she will put people's stuff on their beds. For example, Blondie had two hard boiled eggs on the table yesterday, and Silver put them in a papertowel under Blondie's pillow (who does that?) and when Blondie went to get into her bed, the hardboiled eggs went flying across the room. Silver also put my water jug on the floor, because she wanted the entire table, and it serves as mine and Blondie's "night stand." The upper bunks can use the top of the lockers as their place to put stuff, but lower bunks only have the small table between them. It is what it is.
My third roommate, Longwinded, loves to tell stories, where she never quite gets to the end. You have to keep prompting her, because she wants to tell every last detail. She's a former student, and still a GED student, so we have some good familiarity. She spends much of the day in bed.
None of my new roommates are very conscientious of each other. Whether someone is asleep, or they are reading, the roommates don't seem to care. The light goes on and off without warning. Locker doors are banged against bunkbeds. Shoes are left in the middle of the floor to be tripped over. I guess I got spoiled being in a room where we were always getting screamed at by one roommate or another if we did anything that was considered "rude" (whether it was or wasn't actually rude). We had learned to put our blanket over the end of the bed, so that the locker door didn't hit and make a loud sound, keep our shoes under our beds, and ask before turning on/off the light. There were a lot of problems in my past room, but at least this wasn't one of the issues. I'm just going to keep being kind, and making no more noise than necessary.
I'm also getting used to how things work differently on the upper floor. People stop by each other's rooms much more often. It is not allowed to have others in your room, but everyone seems to do it. People watch the televisions in the atrium by sitting just outside their room on their trashcan. We can view 2 televisions from our side of the hallway, so people can select which television they wish to watch. Last night, there must have been 15 people watching the televisions from above. Not a bad idea! It's kind of like being at the drive-in, only with a much smaller screen and no snack shop (except for your commissary goodies).
Taz stops by my room each evening to grab my water bottle and fill it with ice downstairs. We only have a hot water spicket on the second floor. Many friends stop by the room on a daily basis and check to see if I'm going to a meal, want to do something, or just to see what I'm working on. I slept most of yesterday - that's the problem of being on my bed all day. But, I did work on the throw blanket I'm slowly making, as well as a couple bracelets for an acquaintance to send home to her kids. I think I'll catch up on reading as well, since I will be spending less time downstairs in the atrium.
At night, I caught up with Lola at indoor rec and we played games. We are currently enjoying Tri-Ominoes and King's Corner (card game). We usually spend at least an hour each night hanging out at indoor rec. Yesterday, I told Lola, that despite our arthropathy, we should try to do a light workout with our arms. So, next time we are there, we are going to start with some simple small weight baring exercises and see how our joints handle it. We are not going to be able to do full body or legs for now, due to pain, but maybe we can do something. Then we can reward ourselves by playing board and card games.
So, everything is going alright. The stairs are difficult, I had to do them 7x yesterday, but I am doing them - one step at a time - ha! I was even able to carry my laundry bag up and down the stairs yesterday, which I couldn't do when I first got here - so that's good as well.
My third roommate, Longwinded, loves to tell stories, where she never quite gets to the end. You have to keep prompting her, because she wants to tell every last detail. She's a former student, and still a GED student, so we have some good familiarity. She spends much of the day in bed.
None of my new roommates are very conscientious of each other. Whether someone is asleep, or they are reading, the roommates don't seem to care. The light goes on and off without warning. Locker doors are banged against bunkbeds. Shoes are left in the middle of the floor to be tripped over. I guess I got spoiled being in a room where we were always getting screamed at by one roommate or another if we did anything that was considered "rude" (whether it was or wasn't actually rude). We had learned to put our blanket over the end of the bed, so that the locker door didn't hit and make a loud sound, keep our shoes under our beds, and ask before turning on/off the light. There were a lot of problems in my past room, but at least this wasn't one of the issues. I'm just going to keep being kind, and making no more noise than necessary.
I'm also getting used to how things work differently on the upper floor. People stop by each other's rooms much more often. It is not allowed to have others in your room, but everyone seems to do it. People watch the televisions in the atrium by sitting just outside their room on their trashcan. We can view 2 televisions from our side of the hallway, so people can select which television they wish to watch. Last night, there must have been 15 people watching the televisions from above. Not a bad idea! It's kind of like being at the drive-in, only with a much smaller screen and no snack shop (except for your commissary goodies).
Taz stops by my room each evening to grab my water bottle and fill it with ice downstairs. We only have a hot water spicket on the second floor. Many friends stop by the room on a daily basis and check to see if I'm going to a meal, want to do something, or just to see what I'm working on. I slept most of yesterday - that's the problem of being on my bed all day. But, I did work on the throw blanket I'm slowly making, as well as a couple bracelets for an acquaintance to send home to her kids. I think I'll catch up on reading as well, since I will be spending less time downstairs in the atrium.
At night, I caught up with Lola at indoor rec and we played games. We are currently enjoying Tri-Ominoes and King's Corner (card game). We usually spend at least an hour each night hanging out at indoor rec. Yesterday, I told Lola, that despite our arthropathy, we should try to do a light workout with our arms. So, next time we are there, we are going to start with some simple small weight baring exercises and see how our joints handle it. We are not going to be able to do full body or legs for now, due to pain, but maybe we can do something. Then we can reward ourselves by playing board and card games.
So, everything is going alright. The stairs are difficult, I had to do them 7x yesterday, but I am doing them - one step at a time - ha! I was even able to carry my laundry bag up and down the stairs yesterday, which I couldn't do when I first got here - so that's good as well.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
From Dragonfly: Smile
Hair - check. Nicest t-shirt - check. Make-up - check. Perhaps some glitter on face - check. Best gym shoes - check. Best fitting sweat pants - check. Best pal - check. Brushed teeth - check. Tickets - check.
It's photo days in prison. Every Saturday and Sunday at indoor rec, inmates line up for getting photos taken. There are countless backgrounds (although only one is set up for the weekend), and the photos are taken on basic digital cameras (no fancy stuff here). Work-out equipment is used for sitting and other poses (like a stepper is perfect as a bench). And, once you are all set up - SMILE!
Tickets for photos are sold at the commissary for $1 each. You wait about 2-3 weeks for your printed photo - just one per ticket. Multiple poses are only allowed with multiple tickets. You do not get to just select your best shots, so smile big, lift up that chin, don't look off at the person on the exercise cycle, give those smiling eyes to the camera. If you want sexy, only one butt cheek (fully clothed) can show and the rest of you must be viewable. You may not wear shorts, it's sweats or your khaki pants. No bearing any skin, other than your face and your arms.
Pictures are taken with roommates, buddies, girlfriends, groups, and by oneself. Many pics tend to be taken right before someone is about to leave. People send the photo home so that their family can make copies for everyone in the picture. Pictures by oneself is usually for someone back home (I took one to send to my mom a couple months ago) or for someone's sweetheart in here. The pictures are nothing fancy, but it is a time when we see some people smile for the first time!
A lot of inmates don't have many teeth, though. Too many years of drugs and other issues have rotted them out. They tend to smile without opening their mouths. Some have dentures, others wait more than 5 years to get their new teeth. They still smile for pictures!
As for me, I've only done photos a couple of times. There's the photos I've taken in visitation, but that's with family and friends. I took a couple pictures with South. One she didn't smile, so I kept pushing on her side the second time, and I got a big smile that time. Last night, I took pictures with Lola and Taz. They should be fun. I prefer upper body only, and certainly, not sexy. But, to each their own!
It's photo days in prison. Every Saturday and Sunday at indoor rec, inmates line up for getting photos taken. There are countless backgrounds (although only one is set up for the weekend), and the photos are taken on basic digital cameras (no fancy stuff here). Work-out equipment is used for sitting and other poses (like a stepper is perfect as a bench). And, once you are all set up - SMILE!
Tickets for photos are sold at the commissary for $1 each. You wait about 2-3 weeks for your printed photo - just one per ticket. Multiple poses are only allowed with multiple tickets. You do not get to just select your best shots, so smile big, lift up that chin, don't look off at the person on the exercise cycle, give those smiling eyes to the camera. If you want sexy, only one butt cheek (fully clothed) can show and the rest of you must be viewable. You may not wear shorts, it's sweats or your khaki pants. No bearing any skin, other than your face and your arms.
Pictures are taken with roommates, buddies, girlfriends, groups, and by oneself. Many pics tend to be taken right before someone is about to leave. People send the photo home so that their family can make copies for everyone in the picture. Pictures by oneself is usually for someone back home (I took one to send to my mom a couple months ago) or for someone's sweetheart in here. The pictures are nothing fancy, but it is a time when we see some people smile for the first time!
A lot of inmates don't have many teeth, though. Too many years of drugs and other issues have rotted them out. They tend to smile without opening their mouths. Some have dentures, others wait more than 5 years to get their new teeth. They still smile for pictures!
As for me, I've only done photos a couple of times. There's the photos I've taken in visitation, but that's with family and friends. I took a couple pictures with South. One she didn't smile, so I kept pushing on her side the second time, and I got a big smile that time. Last night, I took pictures with Lola and Taz. They should be fun. I prefer upper body only, and certainly, not sexy. But, to each their own!
From Dragonfly: View from Up Above
So, I wrote too soon... Yesterday, I came home from my job at 3:30pm and everyone was saying, "your name is on the list...!" They were right, my name, and Lola's, was on the list of people who had to move. I had less than 15 minutes to pack up everything I have into laundry bags and bring it to my new room. The new bed had a crappy mattress, so a friend's friend found me a medical mattress. A newish friend, Taz, moved all my stuff. I couldn't do it... because my new room is back on the second floor - 24 steps up - and we know that stairs and my body don't mesh well. Luckily, Taz can do the stairs running if she wanted to, so she had no problem doing them 4x in a row to get all my stuff to my new room. Someone had been waiting to move into my space for an hour, and she was needing to get the bed made and lie down before 4pm count.
My new room has two people I am familiar with and one person I am not. I'm glad to say that I don't believe any illegal activity is occurring in this room. That will be a very nice change. One of the ladies is a former student of mine, who now is in a different classroom. That's a little awkward, but alright. Another lady is someone I've seen making out with and fighting with her girlfriend on numerous occasions around the compound. I believe her girlfriend was just recently transferred to a different prison. The fourth new roomie is my bunky. I think she speaks Spanish primarily (so, she can speak well with my former student who is also Latina), but has not said two words to me since my move in yesterday.
My new room, also, has three early risers. My bunky works in the kitchen on breakfast shift. On week days, she needs to be there at 5am, on weekends, 6am. The one whose girlfriend recently left, I'll call her Blondie, wakes up early every day and spends most of her day in pill line - 3x/day for 1-3 hours each time. Then, there's me. I wake early every day as well. I am up by 5:30 am most weekdays and by 6:30 am on weekends. So, it may be a good room in that way (no more being yelled at for making noise in the a.m.).
The problem remains the stairs. I am great getting up the stairs (as long as I am not hauling anything), but I really have difficulty getting down the stairs. My enthesitis causes pain at my Achilles region and the way we bend our legs for stairs just causes pain. I'll take it one day at a time, but I may have to go back to the dreaded "sick call" to get a lower tier or elevator pass. Neither is easy with the P.A. who I am currently assigned to.
I guess I got luckier than Lola, though. She was moved back to 1 South. I am devastated that we are no longer on the same unit. Since just before South left, Lola became my pal, and the person I most hang out with. Now, we can't just hang on the unit together, which is what we mostly did. Different units means that we can no longer eat our meals in together. She literally has the peanut butter to my jelly. We would share our commissary and eat together. I have the BBQ sauce, she has the packaged beef. I have the tortilla wraps, she has the stuff that goes inside them. Ugh. We never planned for being in different units, because we are both "chronic care." She has rheumatoid arthritis, so we have a lot of pain in common.
Okay, I want to end this with something positive. I have a view from my barred window for the first time. I look over the compound, directly at the camp that I should be at, but am not. I can watch the sunset, a bit, off to the west. That's something I'll enjoy. I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot more time in my bed, and a lot less time in the atrium, now that I am back upstairs.
My new room has two people I am familiar with and one person I am not. I'm glad to say that I don't believe any illegal activity is occurring in this room. That will be a very nice change. One of the ladies is a former student of mine, who now is in a different classroom. That's a little awkward, but alright. Another lady is someone I've seen making out with and fighting with her girlfriend on numerous occasions around the compound. I believe her girlfriend was just recently transferred to a different prison. The fourth new roomie is my bunky. I think she speaks Spanish primarily (so, she can speak well with my former student who is also Latina), but has not said two words to me since my move in yesterday.
My new room, also, has three early risers. My bunky works in the kitchen on breakfast shift. On week days, she needs to be there at 5am, on weekends, 6am. The one whose girlfriend recently left, I'll call her Blondie, wakes up early every day and spends most of her day in pill line - 3x/day for 1-3 hours each time. Then, there's me. I wake early every day as well. I am up by 5:30 am most weekdays and by 6:30 am on weekends. So, it may be a good room in that way (no more being yelled at for making noise in the a.m.).
The problem remains the stairs. I am great getting up the stairs (as long as I am not hauling anything), but I really have difficulty getting down the stairs. My enthesitis causes pain at my Achilles region and the way we bend our legs for stairs just causes pain. I'll take it one day at a time, but I may have to go back to the dreaded "sick call" to get a lower tier or elevator pass. Neither is easy with the P.A. who I am currently assigned to.
I guess I got luckier than Lola, though. She was moved back to 1 South. I am devastated that we are no longer on the same unit. Since just before South left, Lola became my pal, and the person I most hang out with. Now, we can't just hang on the unit together, which is what we mostly did. Different units means that we can no longer eat our meals in together. She literally has the peanut butter to my jelly. We would share our commissary and eat together. I have the BBQ sauce, she has the packaged beef. I have the tortilla wraps, she has the stuff that goes inside them. Ugh. We never planned for being in different units, because we are both "chronic care." She has rheumatoid arthritis, so we have a lot of pain in common.
Okay, I want to end this with something positive. I have a view from my barred window for the first time. I look over the compound, directly at the camp that I should be at, but am not. I can watch the sunset, a bit, off to the west. That's something I'll enjoy. I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot more time in my bed, and a lot less time in the atrium, now that I am back upstairs.