The "F" Word

It's so freeing being able to talk openly with everyone about being a felon. Last night in class, a student made a comment that felons can never get jobs and I went, "hey," and everyone laughed. Just little things like that make life so much better and at the same time, I actually get to catch people when they are using stereotypes and generalizations that are not true.

Now, I will actually agree that most felons have a very hard time gaining decent employment after gaining the big "F" (felon) added to their application. My suggestion is to always try to find ways to use your past as an asset. Also, education should be an option because there are jobs on campus and that could help boost your resume too. If you have a "I can't" attitude, then you won't. If you have an "I can" attitude" then with your hard work, you WILL! 

I think I do still catch people off-guard now when I just "bring it up" in conversation. They may be talking about what the cost of communication from prison to home is and I'll say - well, I generally spent $70 per month on phone calls and email was five cents per minute... Or we will talk about the lack of benefits for felons coming home and I will mention how Obamacare in extended medicaid states ensures that all ex-offenders get medicaid immediately upon release. That's how I continued my care after FMC Carswell.

It's just so freeing to not just think the thoughts, but to share them. I'm their living, breathing example. I'm N=1 in research terms. In the US 2 million people are currently incarcerated and millions more are on parole or supervision and many millions more are ex-felons. Once again, I'm not special nor unique. In my classrooms right now, though, and for me, my experiences are unique and I'm so happy being able to bring insight, and even some laughter at times, into the classroom.

Back to the halfway house?

In class tonight, we discussed a newly published book entitled, "A Halfway House for Women." It was an ethnographic study of a state run halfway house in the northeast and I must say, barely anything about it was like the halfway house experience I had. Then again, from what I've heard, most people's halfway house experiences are nothing like the halfway house experience I had. As I wrote about at the time, I was in a state-run program that was an alternative to jail for most of the people there - they had to do daily programming and most were there for drug/alcohol related offenses. Only four or five of us were there for federal crimes during the short stay I had.

Unlike where I was, there are halfway houses that are entirely federal. Most of those are either all male, or mixed gender. There are very few that are for women only. The mixed gender ones often keep the men and women entirely separate, but some only have a handful of women and mostly serve men. Gender responsive programming is nonexistent in those places. There are also halfway houses that are all female. Some are really small and are like real "houses" and are less transient and women live there for longer periods of time. One women I know lived in a halfway house for 1 1/2 years. Some are very institutional and have 120 beds that look just like they never left prison, except they are wearing their own clothes and once in a while they get to leave.

An interesting conversation tonight was around "smoking." Smoke breaks - specifically in some state run facilities - are quite interesting. Like the place I went to, the book we read, had women going on smoke breaks getting to go outside, where the few women who did not smoke did not get to venture outside at all. The ability to get fresh air, even if it was filled with second hand smoke, is a privilege afforded to only those who have a very unhealthy habit (no offense to my readers who smoke). There should be opportunities for non-smokers to enjoy fresh air without smoke. In fact, there should be more opportunities to be outside without smoking than with smoking. Shouldn't healthy actions be rewarded? Ah, but if the action is not funded by some government or other agency, the halfway house has no reason to consider the rule.

I sometimes hate that I've become so cynical in the last year and a half. I was trying to think of the themes that may run through this blog and so many of them are about how broken the system is. I mean we all know, I guess, that bureaucracy is always going to be troubled, but from the day I entered Carswell to the day I left, my experiences were riddled with cumbersome hurdles that simply made no sense, sights and sounds that no one should ever witness, norms and mores that are quite the opposite of normal, and a true breakdown of my own character. It wasn't until tonight that I was thinking about my second day at Carswell when I proclaimed to my overbearing bunkie, "I am here for my own time, not anybody elses." I was so proud of myself for speaking up for myself. I was so amazed at the voice I found inside myself - that I wasn't passive and that I had not backed down when I was in fact scared.

What I discovered today, looking back, though, is that the system totally broke me, though. Through my many months at FMC Carswell, I did so many things I never thought I would ever do! Things I couldn't even write about on here - because I knew and I was told straight out - that many CO's and some of the Education Staff were reading this blog. I had to be careful what I wrote, yet write the truth at the same time. I couldn't write that I was in fact making bracelets and anklets and selling them on the black market. I couldn't write about the day we saw Lola at the camp and Freckles and I waved like crazy to her hundreds of feet away as she waved like crazy back ---- praying that no one would catch us. I never wrote about who was buying commissary for who or who I ever bought commissary for or why. I didn't write about who was doing my ironing and how I could never do my ironing because there were four irons for 300 women and if you didn't pay someone to do your ironing you didn't get your stuff ironed - even though such things were technically against the rules. I didn't write about the few times I helped out someone with something legal, even though I really did it on the down low --- as down low as I could and how guilty I felt when I couldn't help others. The reality of the SHU and the threats of officers always hanging over me. This blog kept me a known inmate. I had to be careful - especially after the threats in January. I couldn't write the details of those threats and how I called home in tears and scared everyone back at home and told them to take down this blog because I was afraid of what was going to happen to me because I was hearing it from staff and inmates - even people I had never met. It was my birthday weekend. I couldn't write about things that were happening in my rooms - things my roommates were doing. I couldn't write about all the illegal activities I was witnessing. I saw more drug activity than I have ever seen in my lifetime - dealing, snorting, swallowing, begging, hiding, etc. I witnessed many bottles of hooch being made and I have to admit - I took a tiny sip of one once (horrible curiosity) and it was THE most disgusting thing I've ever sipped in my life!!! It tasted like alcohol pads! The makers of such hooch drank the entire cooler of it down in under an hour. I never tried any drugs that were not prescribed to me. I witnessed people stealing from people, from guards, from officers, from education, from medical, from everywhere. I saw more sex in more outrageous places than you could imagine. People get really creative! I never had sex in prison. I saw more officers turn a blind eye to illegal activity, non-illegal but against the rules activity, and the like than when they'd actually stop such activity. It depended on who, what, and where - it also depended on whether there was a security camera, and if another officer was a witness. I watched people intentionally put themselves in the SHU to be locked up with their with girlfriends. I watched people intentionally get other people in trouble and send them off to the SHU.

There was so much WRONG that I could not write about - because if I did, I could get people in trouble and then I'd be a snitch and a snitch gets in the MOST trouble - not just from other inmates - but CO's HATE snitches. CO's do not want someone making them busy - they are busy enough as it is. If you put a note under the door of a CO's office telling them about some illegal activity, chances are, it will go into the garbage. It may be read, or not, but you will never know. They keep a log - a detailed log - of all the goings ons in the unit - I'm sure their gossip of all of us is quite good. I wonder if this blog was logged at times or bookmarked on their computer, who knows. What I do know, is that I wrote the truth in my blog, but I was not able to write the whole truth. I'm sorry for that. Protection of self and others won out. At the same time, everything you do read is the truth and my feelings were certainly the truth. Sometimes I would write entire paragraphs and then have to delete them because I'd realize that I may be "revealing" too much about something or someone. It sucks to have to monitor one's own blog - one's own experiences.

I hope this blog has been helpful anyway, because what has always made it to the posts of this blog are the realities of the friendships, the communities, the resources, and the lives that made being at Carswell bearable from day to day. So many people are still there and I think about them every day. If I did not have the fear of a violation of my supervision, I would be writing a person every day, yet that fear still exists over my head. I do not want to go back. I do no good for anyone if I am back in prison. I am not allowed to have contact with anyone there. I tried at first, I must admit, but it got messy and it just wasn't something that could be sustained and I don't live in secrets and lies. So, I must follow these rules. They suck and I love my friends, but I do more good for them trying to make a difference and staying out of prison - at least I hope I do. I just pray they know that I have not forgotten them. I promised them I'd write - I did initially - but not for a long time now. It sucks. They probably think I don't care or I've forgotten them. I haven't I think about them everyday --- Lola, Chi, Taz, Nurse, Cali, Glitter, Longwinded, and so many others.... and then there were the ones that are out that I am not allowed to communicate with - Red, My Bunky, South, Danbury, etc. How are they doing? Are they making it okay? I just hate these rules!!

I was not the best follower of rules in prison, although I think I followed the rules more than almost anyone else I knew there. There's just no way to really survive prison without finding ways to show some resistance. I was kidding myself that second day there - I needed to be there for others because I needed them to be there for me! However, being on Supervision is a whole new game. I cannot show resistance. I am not living under the same rules. It's just me and my P.O. now and I don't have a community of norms that build ways to resist all the rules. The rules protect me from going back to prison and I don't want to be back there again.

The cycle of prison to halfway house to home confinement will end here. It's better now to just be reading about the experiences of others and able to compare such experiences to my own and others I know. As for the book I read for class tonight, I honestly do not recommend it. It will scare you more than needed for the halfway house experience. It is even scarier than the one I went to. For most women, their halfway house experience is boring, filled with unnecessary programming, and just more bureaucracy until they can go home. Best thing to do is to find a job, find a place to live if you don't have one yet, and move through the levels of programming at the halfway house quickly. Do what they tell you to do so that soon, you can start doing what you want to do --- hopefully in a healthier/smarter way than before you first got locked up.

Be the Captain of your own Ship

In my preparing for success in the PhD program course today, a professor spoke of how to be successful throughout grad school and rule number one was to be in control of your own destiny. No one is going to hand you anything. You have to go after what you want. Start immediately.

I suppose that's been what I've been doing since my release, and perhaps prior. It does not just apply to grad school, it applies to life. We can't just sit back and wait for life to happen to us, it's our job to make it happen for ourselves.

Sure, there's the rare instance where someone does nothing and great things just come to them, but much more often, people work hard, show motivation, and have initiative, and that's what makes things happen.

Today at my job, I watched five youth get pulled out of their tutoring session to meet with the director. They were super nervous - all high school sophomores. I knew why, but they didn't. I watched their faces as my boss started to talk, their nervousness turning to smiles. They've been selected to be put forward for potential scholarships through our university. It's only offered to sophomores involved in pre-college programs who have earned high enough GPA's in high school so far. These five youth earned their nominations and they may receive their first college scholarships before even taking their ACT's! Hard work and initiative!

I heard a story today from a friend who had to give up custody of his sons, even though he knew he was the best patent for them. The court was biased against him/men. He continued to pay for the boys well-being and was a good man to his ex-wife and sons. Two years later, his ex-wife gave him full custody. He believes this happened because he was doing everything right by everyone. Hard to do, but his ex-wife noticed and decided he would be the better parent.

Getting back in my school was all about motivation and initiative. I guess I would add the willingness to take risks and accept failure and rejection and move beyond it quickly is a plus. 

The other thing is that it is never too late to start. I've started from scratch twice in the last seven years. My friend started from scratch twice as well. We often start over after divorce, loss of job, etc. For us felons, our release is a new start. Remember that you are the captain of your own ship. If you want a new job, go after it. If you want to meet that new cute neighbor, introduce yourself. If you want to go back to school, apply. If you want to reconcile with someone, make the first call. If you want to change your life, change it. No one will do these things for you. Believe in yourself!