When a prison is on a military base, as this one is, we can sometimes see/hear things occuring on the base beyond our fences. Yesterday, a jet owned by the air force (I believe) was flying and the noise was overwhelming. I only hear these things outside, the medical facility and units keep out all outside noise. Too much concrete I imagine.
Everyday, there is a military tradition that we hear as well, if we are outside. The speakers on the base play "The Star Spangled Banner." I'm used to hearing the song at sports events, and love it when crowds roar and clap when whoever is singing it does the line, "the land of the FREE," which they hold that note on the "free" for quite a while. However, when I hear that line here, it brings tears to my eyes. I am not free. In many ways, I will never be "free" again.
Sure, I will be released within the next 6-7 months. I will go home and be "on paper" for three more years. However, I will have more freedom than I will here, or in the prison camp across the street. But then, what? Well, a felony follows one around... work applications, school applications, public assistance, friendships, family, etc. Many will just say, "no," and make you feel you are right back in prison after you've done your time. Not everyone, but some.
What will matter is how we handle that reality. This felony will not define my life. My imprisonment will not define my life. They are chapters of a much bigger life. People will treat me wrong, but that is not about me or anything I did, it is about them and their closed-mindedness. Would I really want to work somewhere that has a boss that won't trust me? Would I want friendships with people who cannot see past the mistakes of one's past?
I figure we can choose to go forward with our lives or we can wallow in our misfortunes. I choose to not let this felony and imprisonment restrict my "freedom" to be and do. Every interaction is an opportunity to educate others about addiction, forgiveness, recovery, compassion, and understanding. I will not "own" other's negativity. I will choose to surround myself by the people who choose love over hate and humility over egoism.
My life will never be the same again, that is very much the truth. But if anyone were to look back in their life 5 years, is it really the exact same? People change. Circumstances change. Struggle happens to everyone. Self-pity is a threat we all face, unless we can acknowledge that while 'different' is hard, there is usually an end to the struggle and a smile/laughter at the other side.
This experience has also helped me better see the value of some people and things in my life. The unconditional love of some, and the self-centeredness of others. Struggle does that... it helps you know who your true friends are. I am very lucky, because I have an incredible network of people who care deeply for me and whom I care deeply for as well. They know everything about me, and still choose to support me. If I didn't trust them with the truth, then that support would be fake. Only being your true self, can ensure the honesty every type of healthy relationship requires.
I also do my very best to stay away from a "why me" attitude. Why did I have addiction? Why did I make such stupid mistakes? Why did I go to prison when so many have not? My answer to these, is "why not me." I am no better than anyone else. I am affected by the same demons, experiences, and emotional turmoil as anyone else. There is no "why me," but rather I see it as I'm glad it is me and not someone else. No one I care about should have to go through this. Maybe my experience can help someone else not go through this. We never know how our interactions may help others. I sometimes think that perhaps I am here to represent all the people who struggle with gambling addiction. So many didn't go to prison "yet." Perhaps my experience, my writing, and my knowledge can help others avoid that 'yet' from every happening. If I save just one person from an experience like this, I've lived a worthy life.
For those not kept away from these walls, who either have been through this experience or are facing it in the near future, I can only say that our attitude is what matters most. We can do time, or we can let time do us. We can humbly face each day, knowing that this will be just one of those times of struggle, or we can keep a "why me" attitude. We can help others, or we can think we are better than others. We can be victims, or we can be survivors.
Missing family and friends is real and hard. But, we need to not take our family and friends into prison with us. It is hard enough on the outside knowing that someone you care about is locked up. We owe it to them to be interested in their lives, and let them try to enjoy their time until we are home again. If we put up expectations and restrictions on them, then we are being selfish. They will show their love and support through the mail, trulincs, prayers, visits, phone calls, and through them making the next right decision for themselves and their family. We are locked up, but we can't lock them up along with us.
It is nearly December and another month is coming to a close. Christmas is everywhere. There is a tree in the foyer. If another religion is celebrated, it occurs in the chapel. People are sad. They want to be with their kids, their spouses and others during the holidays. We do what we can to support one another. We had a great conversation about the foods we miss from our Thanksgiving feasts back home. We laugh at the funniest turkey cooking stories of our lives. I spent the day, yesterday, making something to send T.S. I also made two phone calls. The wait for the phones was long, but important. The food served to us was not "all that good," but it included turkey. They could have fed us anything. We are not "free" here. We are controlled. Our food is controlled. Our entertainment is controlled. We do not live in the "land of the free" when we are in prison, but it's a lot better here than in many other countries. Just take it all a day at a time, and now I'm past my Thanksgiving without family. I am past my first 3 1/2 months incarcerated. I am past my incredibly scary first few weeks. Perhaps, I do have some freedoms... I am writing this. I am wearing a sweatshirt at least 1 size too large for me and it's very comfy. I take a shower when I want to. My hair has blond highlights. I drank a hot cocoa with mini marshmellows yesterday. Maybe I don't have all the freedoms of the outside world, but I still have choice. We all still have some choice.
Friday, November 29, 2013
From Dragonfly: Thanksgiving Thankfulness
It's Thanksgiving at Carswell. The day started with strawberry frosted flakes. I had breakfast with Nurse - who is fighting her "shot" and seems to be on the winning side. Being at Carswell for Thanksgiving, though, makes us all miss our friends and family just a little bit more than usual. We will have a turkey dinner (well, lunch) with all the fixings, I hear. Then, we will stand in line for a boxed dinner, since all the kitchen workers will have dinner off. People have been talking about today's food for over two weeks!
Thanksgiving, to me, is about being grateful. I try to be grateful all the time - it is a part of recovery. I've written lists and more lists of things I'm grateful for in journals, letters, and to the people I love. Since being at Carswell, I have not written too many grateful lists. However, when I was here just a couple weeks and I was threatened by my roommate in the "bus stop," I called Faith, and she told me to write a list of things I'm grateful for. So, I have a list that I look at quite often. Having very little paper available at the time, I wrote the list in the back of my personal phone/address book. I see it daily. It centers me when things are out of control here. No better day, than today, to share it with you:
(this is in no particular order!!!)
1. I am alive.
2. My addiction recovery.
3. My family and friends' support.
4. Sporty getting our home ready so I have a place to go.
5. Survivor taking on my financials and so much more.
6. Traveler handing all my emails.
7. I have T.S. as a daughter.
8. Money for Commissary and FRP.
9. I like to read.
10. South in my room.
11. Chi's kindness.
12. My education and knowledge.
13. The opportunity to help others.
14. I'm relatively healthy.
15. I can call someone to listen/talk.
16. I don't "fit in" in prison.
17. I am kind.
18. I don't hate the world.
19. I like myself.
20. My sentence is short.
21. I self-surrendered.
22. I don't hold anger.
23. I don't need a partner for happiness.
24. I'm not starving.
25. I am loved deeply.
26. I'm a survivor, not a victim.
27. I own nice things.
28. I have travelled to amazing places.
29. I've seen true beauty.
30. Access to TruLincs and email.
31. I am a good person.
32. I do not need "drugs."
33. I am capable of greatness.
34. I have lots of skills and abilities.
35. I can love others.
36. I am able to sleep.
(That is the list that I had written that difficult day in August.)
There is so much MORE to be grateful for, but the most important thing in my life is the love and support I have received from those closest to me - my mom and extended family, Sporty, Survivor, T.S., the group of friends I have from GA, Faith, Traveler, Cache, random GA people I may never have met, people who send me nice messages, my boss in education who gave me a chance, my former supervisors from my university job and my fellowship, my closest friends from my university, everyone who follows my ups and down, my dog, my SIL, the people who choose to write me at least weekly, everyone who has sent me in a book, South, Army, Ark, Danbury, Star, Nurse, Freckles and every person who is kind at Carswell, everyone who put me in their prayers, the people who share a smile or laugh with me, ... and so many more. These are who I am really grateful to.
There is, also, some news to share. The thing about this kind of "news" is that there's no way of knowing when it may occur. I went to the "open house" for my case worker yesterday (since I had the afternoon off). I wanted to know why my PSI wasn't uploaded to the system. I never actually asked. We were talking about my security level. I started here as "minimum in" = the "in" was due to my needing to be inside a medical facility. Well, she forgot that last week she was supposed to tell me that my status was changed to "minimum out" - the status I should have started with to be sent to a camp. And, in fact, they are sending me to a camp... across the street (not closer to home). She was supposed to tell me last week, all she said yesterday was, "oops." She says my transfer to the camp will occur, "before Christmas." Had I not gone to her office yesterday, I would have only had a day's notice (the day I have to pack out my locker). Now, I get to prepare.
The camp across the street is NO "Camp Cupcake." It is an old motel 6 and we see it on the other side of our front fencing. They have 6 people to a room, and each room has a bathroom (think of any motel room you've stayed in). There is NO fence surrounding the property. There is a lake in the back, that I hear is pretty. I love being close to water. There are 300 people in total at the camp. When I move there, it will be a whole new story. I have no idea what life will be like. I will miss the friends I've made in the medical facility, but am so GRATEFUL that I am going to where the violence level is much lower. I will have to wear a really ugly green uniform, but that's okay. The phones, laundry, and all lines (like commissary) are outdoors. I will need to get used to that. I could get a job in the camp's education program, I hope... but many people actually work on the military base that we are located on. The camp has a "puppy program" for people who will be there for a long while (I won't qualify).
So, sometime over the next month, I will be writing of totally new experiences. I guess I am supposed to have a fully rounded out prison experience before I go home. The reason they are not moving me to a camp closer to home is that I am still a medical level 3. They need to keep me near the medical facility. But, I am going to have HOPE that I am going somewhere better - where my serenity can exist - and I can, finally, relax. As always, I will keep you updated.
So Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!! I pray that you and your family/friends have a joyous holiday and try to concentrate on the people in your life and not just on the "black Friday" shopping deals!
Thanksgiving, to me, is about being grateful. I try to be grateful all the time - it is a part of recovery. I've written lists and more lists of things I'm grateful for in journals, letters, and to the people I love. Since being at Carswell, I have not written too many grateful lists. However, when I was here just a couple weeks and I was threatened by my roommate in the "bus stop," I called Faith, and she told me to write a list of things I'm grateful for. So, I have a list that I look at quite often. Having very little paper available at the time, I wrote the list in the back of my personal phone/address book. I see it daily. It centers me when things are out of control here. No better day, than today, to share it with you:
(this is in no particular order!!!)
1. I am alive.
2. My addiction recovery.
3. My family and friends' support.
4. Sporty getting our home ready so I have a place to go.
5. Survivor taking on my financials and so much more.
6. Traveler handing all my emails.
7. I have T.S. as a daughter.
8. Money for Commissary and FRP.
9. I like to read.
10. South in my room.
11. Chi's kindness.
12. My education and knowledge.
13. The opportunity to help others.
14. I'm relatively healthy.
15. I can call someone to listen/talk.
16. I don't "fit in" in prison.
17. I am kind.
18. I don't hate the world.
19. I like myself.
20. My sentence is short.
21. I self-surrendered.
22. I don't hold anger.
23. I don't need a partner for happiness.
24. I'm not starving.
25. I am loved deeply.
26. I'm a survivor, not a victim.
27. I own nice things.
28. I have travelled to amazing places.
29. I've seen true beauty.
30. Access to TruLincs and email.
31. I am a good person.
32. I do not need "drugs."
33. I am capable of greatness.
34. I have lots of skills and abilities.
35. I can love others.
36. I am able to sleep.
(That is the list that I had written that difficult day in August.)
There is so much MORE to be grateful for, but the most important thing in my life is the love and support I have received from those closest to me - my mom and extended family, Sporty, Survivor, T.S., the group of friends I have from GA, Faith, Traveler, Cache, random GA people I may never have met, people who send me nice messages, my boss in education who gave me a chance, my former supervisors from my university job and my fellowship, my closest friends from my university, everyone who follows my ups and down, my dog, my SIL, the people who choose to write me at least weekly, everyone who has sent me in a book, South, Army, Ark, Danbury, Star, Nurse, Freckles and every person who is kind at Carswell, everyone who put me in their prayers, the people who share a smile or laugh with me, ... and so many more. These are who I am really grateful to.
There is, also, some news to share. The thing about this kind of "news" is that there's no way of knowing when it may occur. I went to the "open house" for my case worker yesterday (since I had the afternoon off). I wanted to know why my PSI wasn't uploaded to the system. I never actually asked. We were talking about my security level. I started here as "minimum in" = the "in" was due to my needing to be inside a medical facility. Well, she forgot that last week she was supposed to tell me that my status was changed to "minimum out" - the status I should have started with to be sent to a camp. And, in fact, they are sending me to a camp... across the street (not closer to home). She was supposed to tell me last week, all she said yesterday was, "oops." She says my transfer to the camp will occur, "before Christmas." Had I not gone to her office yesterday, I would have only had a day's notice (the day I have to pack out my locker). Now, I get to prepare.
The camp across the street is NO "Camp Cupcake." It is an old motel 6 and we see it on the other side of our front fencing. They have 6 people to a room, and each room has a bathroom (think of any motel room you've stayed in). There is NO fence surrounding the property. There is a lake in the back, that I hear is pretty. I love being close to water. There are 300 people in total at the camp. When I move there, it will be a whole new story. I have no idea what life will be like. I will miss the friends I've made in the medical facility, but am so GRATEFUL that I am going to where the violence level is much lower. I will have to wear a really ugly green uniform, but that's okay. The phones, laundry, and all lines (like commissary) are outdoors. I will need to get used to that. I could get a job in the camp's education program, I hope... but many people actually work on the military base that we are located on. The camp has a "puppy program" for people who will be there for a long while (I won't qualify).
So, sometime over the next month, I will be writing of totally new experiences. I guess I am supposed to have a fully rounded out prison experience before I go home. The reason they are not moving me to a camp closer to home is that I am still a medical level 3. They need to keep me near the medical facility. But, I am going to have HOPE that I am going somewhere better - where my serenity can exist - and I can, finally, relax. As always, I will keep you updated.
So Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!! I pray that you and your family/friends have a joyous holiday and try to concentrate on the people in your life and not just on the "black Friday" shopping deals!
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
From Dragonfly: Testing
So... For the past 2 hours, I was being tested in reading comprehension, math application, math computation, and language arts. I hope I passed (ha!). Why did I get called for today's test? Because my high school did not send in my transcript AND my PSI (PSR) is not uploaded to the system. I have been here over 3 months and no one has put my PSI in the system. This means that everyone who I meet on my "team" has no idea of my background or anything. That is just crazy.
So, what do I have to do now? I have to have my mom ("hi mom!") go to my high school (luckily the high school I officially graduated from in 1991 is practically next store to where she lives). I actually went to three different high schools, and that high school for only a couple months, but I did graduate from it. I hope they get on it and send in my transcript. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to be on track to take the GED. Lol.
There was actually an advantage to taking the test this morning. I will now know exactly what my students are being tested in when they are "tabe" tested. When I see their results, I will understand the kind of concepts they were supposed to know. For me, the test was mostly at a Junior High level, with just a couple algebra and geometry questions. The reading and language arts were of the kind we would start doing in elementary education. That helps me know that I really need to start curriculum at that low level for some of the students - which is good to know. We do that with math, but not with the science or social studies. If the students can't read a map or a chart, they won't be able to answer the questions. Of the entire test, there was one question I wasn't sure about. I hate the questions where there are two good answers, but only one best answer. Also, a couple math questions resulted in my selecting, "answer is not listed." I never trusted myself to choose that answer the first time and would rework the question, but it the answer wasn't listed, so I had to select that circle. It's been a long time since I've taken a scan tron style test! B and C are NOT always the best "guess" answers!
So, here's the advice. First, make sure your PSR/PSI says that your high school degree is "verified." Also, have a copy of your high school degree mailed directly from the high school into your institution's education department. If you don't, you may just find yourself taking a TABE test to get assessed for your GED class... although, since the wait list is so long to get into a class, it may be years before you start the official classes. That gives me the time I need to get the transcript in and find out why my PSI is not uploaded to my electronic file.
So, what do I have to do now? I have to have my mom ("hi mom!") go to my high school (luckily the high school I officially graduated from in 1991 is practically next store to where she lives). I actually went to three different high schools, and that high school for only a couple months, but I did graduate from it. I hope they get on it and send in my transcript. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to be on track to take the GED. Lol.
There was actually an advantage to taking the test this morning. I will now know exactly what my students are being tested in when they are "tabe" tested. When I see their results, I will understand the kind of concepts they were supposed to know. For me, the test was mostly at a Junior High level, with just a couple algebra and geometry questions. The reading and language arts were of the kind we would start doing in elementary education. That helps me know that I really need to start curriculum at that low level for some of the students - which is good to know. We do that with math, but not with the science or social studies. If the students can't read a map or a chart, they won't be able to answer the questions. Of the entire test, there was one question I wasn't sure about. I hate the questions where there are two good answers, but only one best answer. Also, a couple math questions resulted in my selecting, "answer is not listed." I never trusted myself to choose that answer the first time and would rework the question, but it the answer wasn't listed, so I had to select that circle. It's been a long time since I've taken a scan tron style test! B and C are NOT always the best "guess" answers!
So, here's the advice. First, make sure your PSR/PSI says that your high school degree is "verified." Also, have a copy of your high school degree mailed directly from the high school into your institution's education department. If you don't, you may just find yourself taking a TABE test to get assessed for your GED class... although, since the wait list is so long to get into a class, it may be years before you start the official classes. That gives me the time I need to get the transcript in and find out why my PSI is not uploaded to my electronic file.
From Dragonfly: Quiet Please
They are yellow, small, oblong, and soft. If pinched in just the right way, they fit comfortably in and do their job 85% of the time. I'm talking about ear plugs. They are a necessity in prison. I've written about all the noise, so when I want to read, sleep, or just relax, the yellow scrunchy plugs are put into my ears and the noise lessens. The noise in my head is harder to deal with.
I'm not talking about voices or anything mental health wise - I'm talking about thinking - nonstop chatter of thoughts that come to me when I am finally settled down for the day. They are the questions of anxiety... When will I get out of here? Where will I work? Will my appeal be successful? What will I do to pay off my restitution and student loans? Will I ever be out of debt? Should I start a business? Will my health allow me to work full-time? Can I keep teaching at the college level? Should I write a book? What's for dinner? Did I forget anyone on my holiday card list? Are my parents okay? Will I ever see my grandma again and have her know who I am? Can I open my locker without having it bang against the bed post pissing off my roommate? Why does my heel hurt? How is it possible that I am losing weight? Why do I have a call-out to take an education test today when I am an education employee? How can I keep my hair looking this good? Do I need another pair of sweat pants or another sweatshirt? Can I face the people in the laundry room tonight? Do I have a good book to read? How is T.S. doing studying for her first college finals? Why haven't I heard from _______? Will my not being a student at my college anymore distant the amazing friendships I have built? Am I fighting a losing battle? When will I get to be in another official GA meeting? Who stole my chapstick? Will I get my crochet project done in time to mail out for the holiday? How should I celebrate Hanukkah? Why hasn't my home been approved by probation yet for home confinement? When will I finally see a rheumatologist here? Who might visit and when? Can I transfer to a camp?
Okay, you get the idea. These are the questions that keep me up at times. So many unknowns.
Prison is all about unknowns. Life is no longer under your control. Not that it ever was --- but with freedom, you have the false belief that you are in control.
Sometimes, I work hard to quiet the noise in my head. I meditate, read, write, or finally fall asleep. It works, I'm exhausted a lot. But, when I wake in the middle of the night - 3am today - I can't fall back asleep. The questions and thoughts fill my head and sleep is far from possible. This morning, I came up with a million reasons I might have the education test call-out -- my guess is that my high school never verified my graduation and I'm getting a GED placement test. I won't have to take my own GED classes, cause if I have to, my mom can go to my former high school and get a copy of my transcript. It's just how crazy things are here. I may be in a PhD program, but if my high school does not verify my graduation, I would have to be in GED courses. I have two students - one who is a college graduate from Germany and another who has a high school degree from California - who could not get verification. They are both over 50 years old and are stuck in GED classes because they forgot their math. It's a federal government mandate that every inmate prove their high school graduation or take GED courses.
Well, off to test...
I'm not talking about voices or anything mental health wise - I'm talking about thinking - nonstop chatter of thoughts that come to me when I am finally settled down for the day. They are the questions of anxiety... When will I get out of here? Where will I work? Will my appeal be successful? What will I do to pay off my restitution and student loans? Will I ever be out of debt? Should I start a business? Will my health allow me to work full-time? Can I keep teaching at the college level? Should I write a book? What's for dinner? Did I forget anyone on my holiday card list? Are my parents okay? Will I ever see my grandma again and have her know who I am? Can I open my locker without having it bang against the bed post pissing off my roommate? Why does my heel hurt? How is it possible that I am losing weight? Why do I have a call-out to take an education test today when I am an education employee? How can I keep my hair looking this good? Do I need another pair of sweat pants or another sweatshirt? Can I face the people in the laundry room tonight? Do I have a good book to read? How is T.S. doing studying for her first college finals? Why haven't I heard from _______? Will my not being a student at my college anymore distant the amazing friendships I have built? Am I fighting a losing battle? When will I get to be in another official GA meeting? Who stole my chapstick? Will I get my crochet project done in time to mail out for the holiday? How should I celebrate Hanukkah? Why hasn't my home been approved by probation yet for home confinement? When will I finally see a rheumatologist here? Who might visit and when? Can I transfer to a camp?
Okay, you get the idea. These are the questions that keep me up at times. So many unknowns.
Prison is all about unknowns. Life is no longer under your control. Not that it ever was --- but with freedom, you have the false belief that you are in control.
Sometimes, I work hard to quiet the noise in my head. I meditate, read, write, or finally fall asleep. It works, I'm exhausted a lot. But, when I wake in the middle of the night - 3am today - I can't fall back asleep. The questions and thoughts fill my head and sleep is far from possible. This morning, I came up with a million reasons I might have the education test call-out -- my guess is that my high school never verified my graduation and I'm getting a GED placement test. I won't have to take my own GED classes, cause if I have to, my mom can go to my former high school and get a copy of my transcript. It's just how crazy things are here. I may be in a PhD program, but if my high school does not verify my graduation, I would have to be in GED courses. I have two students - one who is a college graduate from Germany and another who has a high school degree from California - who could not get verification. They are both over 50 years old and are stuck in GED classes because they forgot their math. It's a federal government mandate that every inmate prove their high school graduation or take GED courses.
Well, off to test...
Sunday, November 24, 2013
From Dragonfly: It is Night in my Soul
I've mentioned Nurse before. She is 59 years old and was a health care administrator before finding herself assigned to Carswell for a crime she wasn't aware she was committing (she sent money to her son being a missionary in Darfur, not knowing that it was a crime to send money to help citizens of Darfur because it is seen as a country of terror... her son was working directly with people camps who had almost no food or water and horrible living conditions due to their government's policies. Her son died two years ago, this last week, from Malaria. He was beautiful!!). Anyway, Nurse has a strong personality (like me), and we talk a lot about the realities of this place. She has been here about a month and a half and her only medical issue is that she needs to eat a special diet due to her bariatric surgery that she chose to have to help control her diabetes. Her dietary needs have not been met - a fight she faces daily with the medical team and staff at Carswell. She is doing everything in her power to get transferred to a camp much closer to home, but if that ever happens, it would be a long ways down her sentence. Nothing happens quickly here.
Anyway, Nurse receives a special meal (that does not necessarily meet the "soft foods" diet she is supposed to be on) at every meal time. She walks up to a special line, where she is handed a hot or cold tray. This is put on an empty tray, so she can get something from the salad "bar" if she wants to enjoy our iceberg lettuce option. Since her arrival in early October, this has been her routine. Last night, some inmates were trying to cause a scene in order to sneak a bag of cheese out of the dining hall. I have no idea who these inmates were, but somehow they told the officer that Nurse (someone they don't know) took two trays of food (not allowed by DOP rules) and turned the C.O.'s attention in Nurse's direction (to distract him from seeing their sneaking of the cheese out of the hall). So, the officer starts yelling at Nurse and she has no idea what she's done wrong. She didn't have two trays of food, she just had the two trays handed to her by the "medical diets" line. Even medical diets stated this, when asked. So, the officer then decides that Nurse must have been the "decoy" for the cheese thieves to get their cheesy goods out of the chow hall. She didn't even know them and was sitting and eating with several of our mutual pals.
So, Nurse, who is not quite as passive as I am, tries to argue her truth (something that is forbidden here) and is taken to the lieutenant's office. She didn't get to fully eat her meal, which she must follow up with water, or it won't dissolve, due to her bariatric surgery, so she starts feeling ill. At the Lieutenant's office, The lieutenant does not allow Nurse to defend herself. He says that his officers tell the truth and inmates lie (we are all just inmates...) and gives her extra duty picking up garbage outside. It is under 30 degrees outside and freezing. Withing the first hour, she vomits (still not feeling well, since she did not properly eat her meal). The officer takes Nurse back to the lieutenant's office and the lieutenant tells her that he is writing her a shot (disciplinary paperwork) which would result in a severe penalty.
Nurse comes back to the unit and finds us and tells us what happened. Later, as we are all getting ready for count, Nurse's name is called and she is brought back to the lieutenant's office and has to "read" the paperwork. I know nothing of what the recourse will be. She was too distraught to come out of her room after count last night, and since she lives upstairs in our unit, I could not go to her. All I know is that she has been treated WRONG in this scenario. She did nothing wrong, but she is being punished anyway.
It reminds me of the day that a lieutenant screamed at me in the chow hall after I did nothing wrong. It was that moment that I realized that I don't have a "voice" in prison. As long as I wear the prison uniform, I am just the same as anyone else. If some inmates lie, we all lie. If some inmates are bad, we are all bad. If some inmates steal, we all steal. It is not the truth, but that's the way we are treated. When something bad happens, all the inmates are punished - either as a compound or as a unit. One inmate will cause trouble over a television and the televisions are cut off from the entire unit for days. One inmate leaves food in a microwave, and the microwave is taken away from everyone. One inmate doesn't go to the lieutenant's office on time and the entire compound is closed and all inmates have to stay in their units. That is how a large place like Carswell and control 1800 inmates. They just see us all as the same.
Anyway, on November 10th (2 weeks ago), Nurse went to her church service and then turned around and wrote something. I want to share it with you: "Since October 10th time has stood still for me here. The sun set on my soul and has not risen yet. The longest night presses on and the daylight has never come. I am learning patience but it is so difficult. I see women drop and hit concrete several times a day and night. We are tortured by punishing circumstances and stand for hours without chairs. Sleeping block cells on metal bunks 3 feet separating us and lights on at all times. I hear about punishment and pain and feel it deeply every moment I am here. It is night in our soul. Thank you for your prayers, .."Every link in the chain..." Romans 7:15-8:2 A chain is only as strong as its weakest link - and so our society - it's future - is at the mercy eventually of its worst members. I see these people every day, it's lowest moral standards, its most elemental cruelty. For human nature, like water, seeks it's lowest level. All without God. If it were not true, America would be emerging better, cleaner, finer - less violent, more loving than she was fifty year ago. After two hundred years of existence she would have by now nearly abolished crime, immortality, perversion, godlessness and all greed. Utopia would be within sight - for never in all of recorded history has a nation been so lavished with material and intellectual blessings. But this hasn't happened, Why? It is natural to blame the demise on the governing parties, economic indiscretion, international faux pas and various groups of society. But the fact remains that what we are experiencing today is the accumulation of the acts of millions of us imperfect people upon each other. Individual greed, selfishness, God-rebellion, immortality, and materialism, all multiplied thousands of times. Take yourself and multiply your weaknesses, your sins by the number of people in the U.S.; then by the number of people in the world, and you will have a picture of the quality of the chain by which we are all trying to life ourselves up. Pray for the sunrise to come. For me to get out of here and be kept safe while I am here. Pray for patience and understanding. Just one of you can make a difference. God's will in any circumstances is more far reaching than we dream. Make good decisions. Look at wikipedia for FMC Carswell and taste my daily/nightly life. Forgive and excuse my indifference by thinking I cannot be used by God. Thank him for your lives and your freedoms. Hug one another and continue to pray. Help us remember we are no better than another without God. Be faithful. Pray for me. I stand in the gap for you. I think of you all often. I wonder if this month has lasted as long for you. Where you think I am or what you think I look like now, having lost 100 pounds (9 this week). They do not give me any supplements, they feed us the worst spoiled foods with sick laughter. They take away prescriptions vital to our existence yet sustain us here to live out our punishment. Some around me are here for life, some for 6 months. Mothers and daughters, murderers, mafia, white collar. I am here too. In disbelief I wake every day and the sunrise has yet to come. There is no place else I can go. I don't know what this week will hold but I know that prayer changes things. Pray for relationships, for the old ones and the babies. Be blessed..." (NURSE).
Nurse and I may have different religions and be here for different crimes, but we all experience the same reality. There is so little good here. We become observers of obscenity, crime, disregard, pain, punishment, and greed every moment of every day. My thoughts are with Nurse at this moment. We all have our lowest moments here, and now it is her turn. There's nothing anyone can do. We can all just acknowledge the unfairness of the darkness in this place and support each other through the roughest patches. How hard it is to explain this to those on the outside. Those whose eyes have not seen such behavior and pain. It is not the worst in society - there are those trying to survive in places like Darfur or on the streets of any major city. There are those who survived the horrors of the Holocaust, and refuse to speak of their memories. Such memories are almost gone forever (except in writings, books, and movies). I write this so that there is record of these memories, here at Carswell. They are not like the horrors of WWII, but they are our own personal wars - wars within ourselves to stay strong and survive - to support each other and even laugh once in a while. For those who are here for life, I don't know how they survive, for the rest of us, we just count down the days and pray that somehow, our time will be shortened. I join Nurse in saying that it is "night in my soul." The darkness never retreats.
Anyway, Nurse receives a special meal (that does not necessarily meet the "soft foods" diet she is supposed to be on) at every meal time. She walks up to a special line, where she is handed a hot or cold tray. This is put on an empty tray, so she can get something from the salad "bar" if she wants to enjoy our iceberg lettuce option. Since her arrival in early October, this has been her routine. Last night, some inmates were trying to cause a scene in order to sneak a bag of cheese out of the dining hall. I have no idea who these inmates were, but somehow they told the officer that Nurse (someone they don't know) took two trays of food (not allowed by DOP rules) and turned the C.O.'s attention in Nurse's direction (to distract him from seeing their sneaking of the cheese out of the hall). So, the officer starts yelling at Nurse and she has no idea what she's done wrong. She didn't have two trays of food, she just had the two trays handed to her by the "medical diets" line. Even medical diets stated this, when asked. So, the officer then decides that Nurse must have been the "decoy" for the cheese thieves to get their cheesy goods out of the chow hall. She didn't even know them and was sitting and eating with several of our mutual pals.
So, Nurse, who is not quite as passive as I am, tries to argue her truth (something that is forbidden here) and is taken to the lieutenant's office. She didn't get to fully eat her meal, which she must follow up with water, or it won't dissolve, due to her bariatric surgery, so she starts feeling ill. At the Lieutenant's office, The lieutenant does not allow Nurse to defend herself. He says that his officers tell the truth and inmates lie (we are all just inmates...) and gives her extra duty picking up garbage outside. It is under 30 degrees outside and freezing. Withing the first hour, she vomits (still not feeling well, since she did not properly eat her meal). The officer takes Nurse back to the lieutenant's office and the lieutenant tells her that he is writing her a shot (disciplinary paperwork) which would result in a severe penalty.
Nurse comes back to the unit and finds us and tells us what happened. Later, as we are all getting ready for count, Nurse's name is called and she is brought back to the lieutenant's office and has to "read" the paperwork. I know nothing of what the recourse will be. She was too distraught to come out of her room after count last night, and since she lives upstairs in our unit, I could not go to her. All I know is that she has been treated WRONG in this scenario. She did nothing wrong, but she is being punished anyway.
It reminds me of the day that a lieutenant screamed at me in the chow hall after I did nothing wrong. It was that moment that I realized that I don't have a "voice" in prison. As long as I wear the prison uniform, I am just the same as anyone else. If some inmates lie, we all lie. If some inmates are bad, we are all bad. If some inmates steal, we all steal. It is not the truth, but that's the way we are treated. When something bad happens, all the inmates are punished - either as a compound or as a unit. One inmate will cause trouble over a television and the televisions are cut off from the entire unit for days. One inmate leaves food in a microwave, and the microwave is taken away from everyone. One inmate doesn't go to the lieutenant's office on time and the entire compound is closed and all inmates have to stay in their units. That is how a large place like Carswell and control 1800 inmates. They just see us all as the same.
Anyway, on November 10th (2 weeks ago), Nurse went to her church service and then turned around and wrote something. I want to share it with you: "Since October 10th time has stood still for me here. The sun set on my soul and has not risen yet. The longest night presses on and the daylight has never come. I am learning patience but it is so difficult. I see women drop and hit concrete several times a day and night. We are tortured by punishing circumstances and stand for hours without chairs. Sleeping block cells on metal bunks 3 feet separating us and lights on at all times. I hear about punishment and pain and feel it deeply every moment I am here. It is night in our soul. Thank you for your prayers, .."Every link in the chain..." Romans 7:15-8:2 A chain is only as strong as its weakest link - and so our society - it's future - is at the mercy eventually of its worst members. I see these people every day, it's lowest moral standards, its most elemental cruelty. For human nature, like water, seeks it's lowest level. All without God. If it were not true, America would be emerging better, cleaner, finer - less violent, more loving than she was fifty year ago. After two hundred years of existence she would have by now nearly abolished crime, immortality, perversion, godlessness and all greed. Utopia would be within sight - for never in all of recorded history has a nation been so lavished with material and intellectual blessings. But this hasn't happened, Why? It is natural to blame the demise on the governing parties, economic indiscretion, international faux pas and various groups of society. But the fact remains that what we are experiencing today is the accumulation of the acts of millions of us imperfect people upon each other. Individual greed, selfishness, God-rebellion, immortality, and materialism, all multiplied thousands of times. Take yourself and multiply your weaknesses, your sins by the number of people in the U.S.; then by the number of people in the world, and you will have a picture of the quality of the chain by which we are all trying to life ourselves up. Pray for the sunrise to come. For me to get out of here and be kept safe while I am here. Pray for patience and understanding. Just one of you can make a difference. God's will in any circumstances is more far reaching than we dream. Make good decisions. Look at wikipedia for FMC Carswell and taste my daily/nightly life. Forgive and excuse my indifference by thinking I cannot be used by God. Thank him for your lives and your freedoms. Hug one another and continue to pray. Help us remember we are no better than another without God. Be faithful. Pray for me. I stand in the gap for you. I think of you all often. I wonder if this month has lasted as long for you. Where you think I am or what you think I look like now, having lost 100 pounds (9 this week). They do not give me any supplements, they feed us the worst spoiled foods with sick laughter. They take away prescriptions vital to our existence yet sustain us here to live out our punishment. Some around me are here for life, some for 6 months. Mothers and daughters, murderers, mafia, white collar. I am here too. In disbelief I wake every day and the sunrise has yet to come. There is no place else I can go. I don't know what this week will hold but I know that prayer changes things. Pray for relationships, for the old ones and the babies. Be blessed..." (NURSE).
Nurse and I may have different religions and be here for different crimes, but we all experience the same reality. There is so little good here. We become observers of obscenity, crime, disregard, pain, punishment, and greed every moment of every day. My thoughts are with Nurse at this moment. We all have our lowest moments here, and now it is her turn. There's nothing anyone can do. We can all just acknowledge the unfairness of the darkness in this place and support each other through the roughest patches. How hard it is to explain this to those on the outside. Those whose eyes have not seen such behavior and pain. It is not the worst in society - there are those trying to survive in places like Darfur or on the streets of any major city. There are those who survived the horrors of the Holocaust, and refuse to speak of their memories. Such memories are almost gone forever (except in writings, books, and movies). I write this so that there is record of these memories, here at Carswell. They are not like the horrors of WWII, but they are our own personal wars - wars within ourselves to stay strong and survive - to support each other and even laugh once in a while. For those who are here for life, I don't know how they survive, for the rest of us, we just count down the days and pray that somehow, our time will be shortened. I join Nurse in saying that it is "night in my soul." The darkness never retreats.
Friday, November 22, 2013
From Dragonfly: Another Week
It's Friday night and I am in the email room for the first time today. I am just moving a little slow today and couldn't get in here earlier. I put in a good day's work. For the past two days, I have been helping in a different classroom since one of the usual tutors is out having surgery. It wasn't much of a choice, but it was a good class to work with. I've now watched how three different classes get students ready for their GED and each time I learn different techniques and meet different students who give me hope. Whatever I find myself doing when I am out of here, I hope I am teaching. I just love the moment when a student "gets" it!
The weekend will bring a couple of days without waking from an alarm (although I wake before 6am on my own), down time to crochet and read, and too much time dealing with unit drama. My need for something different, to see beyond the fences of this prison, is growing. Star pointed out to me the street lights that we can see at a distance from a specific point on the campus. Freckles found a spot where we can see neon purple from a hotel somewhere in the distance. These spots remind me that there is life beyond the limits of this place. Hearing a plane above head or, even, seeing our staff walking through the front building, is evidence of life - real life. I know I've been here for such a short period of time, but it's already hard to imagine being in darkness or having a cuddle or driving a car. My rides on Hope are a distance memory - my life is engulfed entirely in survival. I cannot imagine why this is the punishment for people who are non-violent. The more you are in prison, the more likely you are to become hardened and a real criminal!
Even the staff have bought in to this place. Today, two teachers commented that my uniform is not ironed. I explained the difficulty of laundry and utilizing an iron - everything is a fight and I stay away from fights... best I can. Just his last week at laundry I was called a "f***ing cracker" by a woman who was upset that I wouldn't take my clothes out of the washer until my dryer was ready (5 minutes). I would have had to stand there will my entire wet load of clothes in my arms or put them on a dirty surface --- neither option works. Once the dryer was available, my clothes went in, just like anyone else would do. The irons are practically "owned" by the women who do people's laundry for commissary items. There are women here who do five loads of other people's every day! Try getting around them to get one of the three irons in a unit of 256 women!!!
I informed the staff members that the only way I could get my clothes ironed is if I pay someone - which I do not have the funds for. One teacher piped in that I should charge for tutoring in my unit. I informed them that 1) I am not hustling something that is a good deed; and 2) hustling is not allowed here. They called me back over and said, "I didn't tell you to do that..." fearing the wrong person would know that they said that. That's how things go here - if you want to follow the rules and not lose good time, you are in the minority. I'm often told, "you are in prison now... act like a prisoner!" But, I don't want to fit in here, I want to go home --- that is all I want!!!!!
Okay, heading out to 30 degree weather. It almost feels like home. Here, people are not used to this kind of weather, but those of us from the Midwest feel right at home. I'm just wearing a heavy sweatshirt... it doesn't feel that bad. Off to crochet or read or both... I'm sure I will be sitting with my peers, talking about families, stresses, and inmate.com news. It's what we do every night!
The weekend will bring a couple of days without waking from an alarm (although I wake before 6am on my own), down time to crochet and read, and too much time dealing with unit drama. My need for something different, to see beyond the fences of this prison, is growing. Star pointed out to me the street lights that we can see at a distance from a specific point on the campus. Freckles found a spot where we can see neon purple from a hotel somewhere in the distance. These spots remind me that there is life beyond the limits of this place. Hearing a plane above head or, even, seeing our staff walking through the front building, is evidence of life - real life. I know I've been here for such a short period of time, but it's already hard to imagine being in darkness or having a cuddle or driving a car. My rides on Hope are a distance memory - my life is engulfed entirely in survival. I cannot imagine why this is the punishment for people who are non-violent. The more you are in prison, the more likely you are to become hardened and a real criminal!
Even the staff have bought in to this place. Today, two teachers commented that my uniform is not ironed. I explained the difficulty of laundry and utilizing an iron - everything is a fight and I stay away from fights... best I can. Just his last week at laundry I was called a "f***ing cracker" by a woman who was upset that I wouldn't take my clothes out of the washer until my dryer was ready (5 minutes). I would have had to stand there will my entire wet load of clothes in my arms or put them on a dirty surface --- neither option works. Once the dryer was available, my clothes went in, just like anyone else would do. The irons are practically "owned" by the women who do people's laundry for commissary items. There are women here who do five loads of other people's every day! Try getting around them to get one of the three irons in a unit of 256 women!!!
I informed the staff members that the only way I could get my clothes ironed is if I pay someone - which I do not have the funds for. One teacher piped in that I should charge for tutoring in my unit. I informed them that 1) I am not hustling something that is a good deed; and 2) hustling is not allowed here. They called me back over and said, "I didn't tell you to do that..." fearing the wrong person would know that they said that. That's how things go here - if you want to follow the rules and not lose good time, you are in the minority. I'm often told, "you are in prison now... act like a prisoner!" But, I don't want to fit in here, I want to go home --- that is all I want!!!!!
Okay, heading out to 30 degree weather. It almost feels like home. Here, people are not used to this kind of weather, but those of us from the Midwest feel right at home. I'm just wearing a heavy sweatshirt... it doesn't feel that bad. Off to crochet or read or both... I'm sure I will be sitting with my peers, talking about families, stresses, and inmate.com news. It's what we do every night!
From Dragonfly: Appeal
People in prison are always talking about "appeals." For nearly all of them, it is an appeal of their criminal conviction and/or their sentencing. I don't blame them, they were punished for taking their cases to trial (lose 2 points on conviction) and most had incredibly high mandatory minimums. I know women here for LIFE from dealing drugs. As much as anyone can't stand drugs, giving someone a higher sentence for dealing drugs than a killer who gets 20 years is a bit extreme. In fact, today, congress is talking about these very issues - mandatory minimums and sentence computations. Once the new bills are passed, it will be a madhouse here of people trying to get their sentence reduced. Many people will be going home. I pray, not back to their drug dealing ways.
For me, I am not appealing my case or sentence. I chose to plea, knowing full well that the judge could impose any sentence. I received less time than the guidelines suggested, and none of the new congressional bills will apply to me. I am appealing, though, I just typed up my appeal to my university for revoking my admission. This appeal goes directly to the Provost. Thanks to Sporty, I was able to receive a copy of the Graduate Student Rights and Responsibilities and there were many provisions that I could refer to in my appeal. It makes a strong argument that my due process rights, my privacy rights, and my rights to be treated civilly and professionally have been violated. I was also able to appeal that the revocation of my admission was an inappropriate sanction. I have no idea how the current Provost will handle the information. I want more than anything to remain a student, but I also am protecting my rights for further action, should that have to occur.
Truth is that most appeals are not successful. However, a small number are - a woman in here just learned that her appeal of sentence computation was successful and she is going home ANY day now. Another friend just learned that her appeal for denial of unemployment security benefits was successful - and she received a deposit for over 2 months of back payments. I know my appeal for reconsideration of what has happened to me with school is a stretch, however, if I don't appeal, I would only guarantee that nothing will happen. At least this way, I can always hold on to hope.
I'm working hard at finding my "hope" again. Hope is such an optimistic word. Nurse says that I am a pessimist, I see that my hope has been limited lately. But, I have many things to hope for... I have hope that all my friends and family will be healthy, I have hope that people here will get their release dates soon, I have hope that I will find my new path. I have so much hope.
Plus, I got the best feeling yesterday when one of my students and I learned that she had passed her GED. She thanked and hugged me over and over again. It was just wonderful. She didn't think she could pass the math test. She passed the whole test on her first try. She is a good person and goes home in a couple months. Her mother has terminal cancer. I hope that her success in obtaining her GED helps her mom smile and, maybe, helps her hold out til her daughter can get home to see her.
For me, I am not appealing my case or sentence. I chose to plea, knowing full well that the judge could impose any sentence. I received less time than the guidelines suggested, and none of the new congressional bills will apply to me. I am appealing, though, I just typed up my appeal to my university for revoking my admission. This appeal goes directly to the Provost. Thanks to Sporty, I was able to receive a copy of the Graduate Student Rights and Responsibilities and there were many provisions that I could refer to in my appeal. It makes a strong argument that my due process rights, my privacy rights, and my rights to be treated civilly and professionally have been violated. I was also able to appeal that the revocation of my admission was an inappropriate sanction. I have no idea how the current Provost will handle the information. I want more than anything to remain a student, but I also am protecting my rights for further action, should that have to occur.
Truth is that most appeals are not successful. However, a small number are - a woman in here just learned that her appeal of sentence computation was successful and she is going home ANY day now. Another friend just learned that her appeal for denial of unemployment security benefits was successful - and she received a deposit for over 2 months of back payments. I know my appeal for reconsideration of what has happened to me with school is a stretch, however, if I don't appeal, I would only guarantee that nothing will happen. At least this way, I can always hold on to hope.
I'm working hard at finding my "hope" again. Hope is such an optimistic word. Nurse says that I am a pessimist, I see that my hope has been limited lately. But, I have many things to hope for... I have hope that all my friends and family will be healthy, I have hope that people here will get their release dates soon, I have hope that I will find my new path. I have so much hope.
Plus, I got the best feeling yesterday when one of my students and I learned that she had passed her GED. She thanked and hugged me over and over again. It was just wonderful. She didn't think she could pass the math test. She passed the whole test on her first try. She is a good person and goes home in a couple months. Her mother has terminal cancer. I hope that her success in obtaining her GED helps her mom smile and, maybe, helps her hold out til her daughter can get home to see her.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
From Dragonfly: A Message from England
I recently was written that a person from England sent me a message of support. I find that very interesting. I wonder what would draw someone to reading my words. I suppose it doesn't matter. I SO appreciate the support and comments. I've been told that many people have found their way to my words. I never imagined that would happen. My SIL and Sporty say it's due to my "voice." Interesting.
As newbie's come into my unit on a weekly basis, sometimes I ask them how they "researched" this place before arrival. So many say that they only read the online orientation book. I ask, "did you google Carswell?" and most say, "no." Obviously, I did enough researching for a 1,000 people over, but it still surprises me that they didn't do the same. Not one person I've met has told me that they've read my words. Fascinating.
A woman in my drawing class (yes, I signed up for a drawing class at indoor rec that occurs on Tuesday night's for one month) told me that she does not believe I will be allowed to go to a camp or halfway house. I asked, "why?" She said, well, we can all see your decline. I asked what that meant. She told me that I've slowed down, that my walking is very limited (especially at night and in the a.m.), and that my energy has decreased. I have to admit that the pain in my legs is much, much worse than when I arrived. I just was trying to mask it as much as possible. It's not like I can do anything about it. I still haven't seen the Rheumatologist, even though the consult was ordered in August. Perhaps my methotrexate needs to be increased, or maybe there's something else we can do. I don't want to be back on a cane, or even worse, on these walkers they give out like candy to anyone who has a hard time walking. I'm told I walk like an 80 year old woman. I guess that balances me out, because most people think I'm 20-something... I look half my age and physically I am twice my age.
I wonder what kind of career I could have after all this is over. Now that 3 careers have been taken from me as a result of my past actions, how will I, as a felon, make a living. Some have said that I should write a book. However, everyone in here says they are going to write a book. The difference for me is that my experience at Carswell would be just a chapter of a much larger book about "hope" and my life's experiences. So, I've considered it, but I'm not sure my writing is good enough, that my story is interesting enough, that my P.O. would consider that a job, or that my family would support such a venture. I wish I could write thrillers like John Grisham - then, perhaps, I would be an author.
With my physical limitations and felony status, the one thing I DEFINITELY don't want is to not work. I don't want to depend on public benefits. I want to be productive and give to people. I want decent health insurance, and the money to pay off my restitution. If I thought about what I may be like 5 years from now, I see a blank slate - anything is possible. It is always possible. For now, I'm just letting go and allowing myself to have no specific plan.
Sharing these words with you helps. The biggest difference in my life from 5 years ago is that I was alone. Now, I have incredible friends and community support (even support from England, I suppose). I know that as long as I keep sharing, as long as my recovery stays strong, I will always have a cheering squad wishing me the best. They may be the only ones to buy my book, if I wrote one, but at least it wouldn't be that no one would read it. Perhaps I will find a way to continue my international travels. I've never been to Europe (even if my words have). There's so much possibility for everyone. So, the support means a lot to me - from friends and strangers - and I will keep writing - because it's something I've always done. My voice will stay out for people to read. Maybe that is how I will do some good, maybe.
As newbie's come into my unit on a weekly basis, sometimes I ask them how they "researched" this place before arrival. So many say that they only read the online orientation book. I ask, "did you google Carswell?" and most say, "no." Obviously, I did enough researching for a 1,000 people over, but it still surprises me that they didn't do the same. Not one person I've met has told me that they've read my words. Fascinating.
A woman in my drawing class (yes, I signed up for a drawing class at indoor rec that occurs on Tuesday night's for one month) told me that she does not believe I will be allowed to go to a camp or halfway house. I asked, "why?" She said, well, we can all see your decline. I asked what that meant. She told me that I've slowed down, that my walking is very limited (especially at night and in the a.m.), and that my energy has decreased. I have to admit that the pain in my legs is much, much worse than when I arrived. I just was trying to mask it as much as possible. It's not like I can do anything about it. I still haven't seen the Rheumatologist, even though the consult was ordered in August. Perhaps my methotrexate needs to be increased, or maybe there's something else we can do. I don't want to be back on a cane, or even worse, on these walkers they give out like candy to anyone who has a hard time walking. I'm told I walk like an 80 year old woman. I guess that balances me out, because most people think I'm 20-something... I look half my age and physically I am twice my age.
I wonder what kind of career I could have after all this is over. Now that 3 careers have been taken from me as a result of my past actions, how will I, as a felon, make a living. Some have said that I should write a book. However, everyone in here says they are going to write a book. The difference for me is that my experience at Carswell would be just a chapter of a much larger book about "hope" and my life's experiences. So, I've considered it, but I'm not sure my writing is good enough, that my story is interesting enough, that my P.O. would consider that a job, or that my family would support such a venture. I wish I could write thrillers like John Grisham - then, perhaps, I would be an author.
With my physical limitations and felony status, the one thing I DEFINITELY don't want is to not work. I don't want to depend on public benefits. I want to be productive and give to people. I want decent health insurance, and the money to pay off my restitution. If I thought about what I may be like 5 years from now, I see a blank slate - anything is possible. It is always possible. For now, I'm just letting go and allowing myself to have no specific plan.
Sharing these words with you helps. The biggest difference in my life from 5 years ago is that I was alone. Now, I have incredible friends and community support (even support from England, I suppose). I know that as long as I keep sharing, as long as my recovery stays strong, I will always have a cheering squad wishing me the best. They may be the only ones to buy my book, if I wrote one, but at least it wouldn't be that no one would read it. Perhaps I will find a way to continue my international travels. I've never been to Europe (even if my words have). There's so much possibility for everyone. So, the support means a lot to me - from friends and strangers - and I will keep writing - because it's something I've always done. My voice will stay out for people to read. Maybe that is how I will do some good, maybe.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
From Dragonfly: Addiction
I'd like to write that addiction does not exist on the inside of prison, but that would be fooling myself and you... Addiction and addictive behavior is rampant. First, there are the drug users. There are a number of ways pills get around - one is the person who puts a bag of pills up a body edifice, I can't imagine, and then passes the strip search, upon entry to the prison. Another way pills are passed around are through people who go through pill line, and then stick the pill to their inside upper gums using denture glue - so when they open their mouth, it looks like they must have swallowed the pill. Some pills are "self-carry," but not the ones that people like to take to get high or numb themselves. I'd like to say that I don't know any of these people who trade pills, take pills, deal pills, or similar - but in fact, I know many. I see students come to the GED classes high, I see people who sleep all day, drugged out of their mind, I see people pass out during count, because they are too "f-d" up to stand up. It happens. It's very sad to me.
Those with drug related offenses on their PSI are usually recommended for the RDAP program (a residential drug abuse program). There is also a weekly program that is less intense. I recently learned that RDAP does not allow the participants to consider their drug use as an "emotional illness" - which is what the 12-step recovery programs stand on. I find it odd, because the emotional illness underlies all the irrational behavior that leads to our addiction. Anyway, even people in these prison programs are taking pills on the side.
Aside from the drug users, there are alcoholics. How, you may ask? There isn't any alcohol allowed in prison. However, I've actually seen people make a jug of "hooch" from alcohol pads. Disgusting!!!! I've seen people let their apples get so old that they make a natural "alcohol." It's non-stop here, the lengths people will go to in order to feed their addictive needs. I can't imagine any desire leading someone to such alcohol off an alcohol pad!!!
There are also nicotine addicts. Okay, smoking is forbidden, but occurs every day and all day. There are ways to sneak the tobacco in (see how people sneak drugs in), and there are people who somehow have access to rolling papers and the like. Somewhere on campus, the people sneak off and light up. They pay as much as $5 for a cig (paid out in commissary). And you thought smoking was an expensive habit on the outside!!!!
Another addiction is the need for sex and affection. Many women use their relationships as escapes from the reality of being in prison. They do risky behavior and get into odd situations to be part of their relationship. The drama is just as addictive as the relationship itself.
A big addiction here is food. The average weight gain is 55 pounds. I've written about that before. There are people who can't hold a bag of chips without eating the entire bag. They always eat everything on their dinner tray, as well as some of their neighbor's tray. Then, there are conversations about "starving" oneself or bulimic activities. These are talked about, as if they are normal behaviors.
So many symbols of addiction are here in prison. So little in terms of real recovery. I miss my GA program SOOOOO much. I miss the understanding of people who have worked hard to lead healthier lives. I am one example, though, of someone who is doing her best to avoid all these kinds of addictive behaviors. It is quite possible and people will pretty much leave you alone if you show no interest in their behaviors. Also, keeping my mouth shut about who, what and where is essential. I just turn my back, and do my best to forget what I'd just seen or heard. It's possible.
Those with drug related offenses on their PSI are usually recommended for the RDAP program (a residential drug abuse program). There is also a weekly program that is less intense. I recently learned that RDAP does not allow the participants to consider their drug use as an "emotional illness" - which is what the 12-step recovery programs stand on. I find it odd, because the emotional illness underlies all the irrational behavior that leads to our addiction. Anyway, even people in these prison programs are taking pills on the side.
Aside from the drug users, there are alcoholics. How, you may ask? There isn't any alcohol allowed in prison. However, I've actually seen people make a jug of "hooch" from alcohol pads. Disgusting!!!! I've seen people let their apples get so old that they make a natural "alcohol." It's non-stop here, the lengths people will go to in order to feed their addictive needs. I can't imagine any desire leading someone to such alcohol off an alcohol pad!!!
There are also nicotine addicts. Okay, smoking is forbidden, but occurs every day and all day. There are ways to sneak the tobacco in (see how people sneak drugs in), and there are people who somehow have access to rolling papers and the like. Somewhere on campus, the people sneak off and light up. They pay as much as $5 for a cig (paid out in commissary). And you thought smoking was an expensive habit on the outside!!!!
Another addiction is the need for sex and affection. Many women use their relationships as escapes from the reality of being in prison. They do risky behavior and get into odd situations to be part of their relationship. The drama is just as addictive as the relationship itself.
A big addiction here is food. The average weight gain is 55 pounds. I've written about that before. There are people who can't hold a bag of chips without eating the entire bag. They always eat everything on their dinner tray, as well as some of their neighbor's tray. Then, there are conversations about "starving" oneself or bulimic activities. These are talked about, as if they are normal behaviors.
So many symbols of addiction are here in prison. So little in terms of real recovery. I miss my GA program SOOOOO much. I miss the understanding of people who have worked hard to lead healthier lives. I am one example, though, of someone who is doing her best to avoid all these kinds of addictive behaviors. It is quite possible and people will pretty much leave you alone if you show no interest in their behaviors. Also, keeping my mouth shut about who, what and where is essential. I just turn my back, and do my best to forget what I'd just seen or heard. It's possible.
Monday, November 18, 2013
From Dragonfly: She says "Goodbye"
Every Monday (and some other days), there are people waking up early, grabbing one small bag of "things" and heading out early. They are the people being released. They go to R&D, are processed out, and walk out the front doors. Every week, I say "goodbye" to a couple people and most importantly - "good luck" or "stay strong." As hard as it is in here, depending on the amount of time one's been in prison, it's really hard on the outside. Imagine the person who is being released after 24 years. The entire world has changed! They have never seen an electric car, highways were not as wide, they haven't driven in all that time, banking is computerized - as is nearly every job. It would be tough.
Today, I said "goodbye" to two women who were not here quite so long. One woman has only been here 3 months. She was sentenced in the same courtroom, on the same day, for the same crime, as South. In fact, there are a bunch of "older" ladies here from that same county with the same "social security fraud" crimes - where SS overpaid them, and now they are in prison for not realizing that their checks were a bit fatter than they should be. Anyway, this woman only had 3 months incarcerated and then 3 months home confinement. She has been all smiles this weekend, knowing she is going home today. She was like a scared little cat here, and now, her husband and son are waiting outside the gates of this prison to pick her up. I'll never understand why she, South, and the others were given prison for what should have been a civil action for repayment of the SS office over payments. South still has 3 months to go.
The other woman I said goodbye to today is a younger woman, probably around my age, who was transferred to Carswell a while ago to undergo intensive cancer treatment for breast cancer. It's a bad case, and she went back into chemo/radiation after her first treatment didn't work. I was told she had beautiful hair, but I've only known her as bald. She was always a daily reminder to me of how lucky we were with Survivor, who underwent a mastectomy earlier this year, but didn't have to go through chemo or radiation. The woman leaving today fought her illness with incredible strength, barely making it when she felt sick all the way to the restroom from her room in our unit that was a bit too far away from the bathrooms. Now, she will undergo the rest of her treatment in freedom, seeing the best doctors, and, hopefully, living a cancer free life.
This woman also has quite the story. She was accused of a financial conspiracy that, she says, she did not do. In fact, since being incarcerated, the feds learned that she had nothing to do with it, and took away her restitution requirements. She says that she has been unlawfully detained. Additionally, her cancer treatments led her and her family to file a medical malpractice case. I don't know the full story of it, but I guess they should have been able to see the cancer much earlier, but never read her films, resulting in the cancer spreading and her treatment being much worse. I didn't know her then, but such stories are common around here. I'm sure some are just "inmate.com," but we see others for our own eyes.
I wish these two, strong, women the best of everything on the outside. Neither showed any inclination toward violence. They spent much of their time quietly in their room, wondering how on earth they found themselves incarcerated and a felon. They are kind, family-oriented, religious, and giving. They've brought smiles to many and a little hope to many more. I pray they are successful in the crazy world outside.
Tomorrow, a new bus, with 40+ more inmates, will arrive at Carswell. They will be from all over the country. Some will be transfers because of health issues, others will start their imprisonment here, because they are from nearby, or had already known health issues. Likely, most of them will be here, still, to say "goodbye" to me, whenever that day comes. It's a revolving door. I just hope the people I say, "goodbye" to, do not find themselves using that door again.
Today, I said "goodbye" to two women who were not here quite so long. One woman has only been here 3 months. She was sentenced in the same courtroom, on the same day, for the same crime, as South. In fact, there are a bunch of "older" ladies here from that same county with the same "social security fraud" crimes - where SS overpaid them, and now they are in prison for not realizing that their checks were a bit fatter than they should be. Anyway, this woman only had 3 months incarcerated and then 3 months home confinement. She has been all smiles this weekend, knowing she is going home today. She was like a scared little cat here, and now, her husband and son are waiting outside the gates of this prison to pick her up. I'll never understand why she, South, and the others were given prison for what should have been a civil action for repayment of the SS office over payments. South still has 3 months to go.
The other woman I said goodbye to today is a younger woman, probably around my age, who was transferred to Carswell a while ago to undergo intensive cancer treatment for breast cancer. It's a bad case, and she went back into chemo/radiation after her first treatment didn't work. I was told she had beautiful hair, but I've only known her as bald. She was always a daily reminder to me of how lucky we were with Survivor, who underwent a mastectomy earlier this year, but didn't have to go through chemo or radiation. The woman leaving today fought her illness with incredible strength, barely making it when she felt sick all the way to the restroom from her room in our unit that was a bit too far away from the bathrooms. Now, she will undergo the rest of her treatment in freedom, seeing the best doctors, and, hopefully, living a cancer free life.
This woman also has quite the story. She was accused of a financial conspiracy that, she says, she did not do. In fact, since being incarcerated, the feds learned that she had nothing to do with it, and took away her restitution requirements. She says that she has been unlawfully detained. Additionally, her cancer treatments led her and her family to file a medical malpractice case. I don't know the full story of it, but I guess they should have been able to see the cancer much earlier, but never read her films, resulting in the cancer spreading and her treatment being much worse. I didn't know her then, but such stories are common around here. I'm sure some are just "inmate.com," but we see others for our own eyes.
I wish these two, strong, women the best of everything on the outside. Neither showed any inclination toward violence. They spent much of their time quietly in their room, wondering how on earth they found themselves incarcerated and a felon. They are kind, family-oriented, religious, and giving. They've brought smiles to many and a little hope to many more. I pray they are successful in the crazy world outside.
Tomorrow, a new bus, with 40+ more inmates, will arrive at Carswell. They will be from all over the country. Some will be transfers because of health issues, others will start their imprisonment here, because they are from nearby, or had already known health issues. Likely, most of them will be here, still, to say "goodbye" to me, whenever that day comes. It's a revolving door. I just hope the people I say, "goodbye" to, do not find themselves using that door again.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
From Dragonfly: Racial Diversity
Okay, in all the media about prisons, they show a separation between the races... in the lunchroom, in the cells, everywhere. Well, at least at Carswell, women's prisons are slightly different. Here, there is so much racial diversity - and everyone finds that we are living, eating, and "playing" together.
For example, I was just at breakfast and four Latina women sat down with me. I do not know them, but there were four open seats, and they needed seats. That is the ultimate factor in the chow hall - where is there an open seat. This place is so overcrowded, that you could stand with your tray for a while scoping down a table of people who are nearly finished, in order to sit down once they are done. Race does not matter on where we eat in the chow hall. At the same time, friendships/relationships do matter. If people are planning to eat together, they will hold seats or a table to accommodate them all. We all do it at times and it is a generally accepted practice. It is not a practice to keep specific people away, just a practice to ensure there's a seat for your friend(s) or girlfriend.
Speaking of girlfriends, interracial couples occur all the time. Most people who do the dating thing, here, are with people of their same race, but not all. Many people seem to "date" people of racial differences. You will see an African American woman dating a Caucasian woman, a Native American woman dating a Latino woman, etc. In fact, some people "play" the dating game here in a way that they have SEVERAL girlfriends - and they are of all different racial backgrounds. Friendships are of the same variety. While most people tend to hang out with people from similar backgrounds, those backgrounds are more about personality than race. Those who "ruled the streets" tend to hang out together. The "white-collar" offenders tend to spend time together. The "drug lords" hang out together. The "junkies" hang out together. The people taking GED courses tend to hang out together. Well, you get the idea.
In our assigned rooms, it is a requirement that every room be racially diverse. For example, my room has one African American woman, a Native American woman, a Caucasian Christian woman, and me. Some rooms have two Caucasian women and two Latina women. It's all different - but no rooms are all of any racial background.
The same is true on outdoor rec teams. For example, the softball teams must be racially diverse or cannot play. Same with the volleyball, soccer, or anything else they have.
There are activities exclusively for specific religions, but anyone can register as that religion. The Native Americans have a weekly "sweat" and smoke traditional tobacco. There are different "services" for different racial groups. Today, there will be a "gospel showcase." The Jews have Tuesday afternoon Torah study, Friday night candle lighting, and special events for holidays. There is similar for Muslims, Catholics, etc.
The one thing that is displayed as majority rules - is any form of Christianity. I had written about how Christmas is huge here, and every unit decks out for the holiday, there are special Christmas treats, and even prayer in the units. I didn't end up posting it, because I didn't like how I wrote it. However, as a member of a minority religion, I am used to Christmas being such a prominent holiday. The holidays are so hard for so many people, at least the strong majority of people here will feel that they have a piece of normalcy during that time of the year.
So, overall, racial background does not really matter, except for one thing... there is racism. I hear slurs out of people's mouths ALL the time. It is overwhelming and horrifying to see people I thought were "cool" use such derogatory terms. There's homophobia at the same level too, which surprises me, given the vast majority of people are at least "gay for the stay." But the racism hits me hard. I've worked most my life helping break down the barriers between racial groups - conducting diversity training, promoting open and safe environments, etc. Here, though, the racism is everywhere and between all groups (just not between all people). I speak up against it when I can - but it is not always safe to do so. Some people are just mean or rude. I am not going to change them - especially in prison. They have built up this hatred on the streets, in their general upbringing, and/or between gang fights. I do my best to avoid these issues. In fact, I am likely more liberal than most people here. This surprised me - I had thought that people who were pushing drugs would likely be liberal, but I'm among predominantly Republicans and people who enjoy Fox news. I'm a CNN watcher. Sometimes, we get into interesting conversations, mostly people just don't talk politics.
So, as a Caucasian, 40-something, Jewish, liberal woman, I fit right in among the vast diversity of this place.
For example, I was just at breakfast and four Latina women sat down with me. I do not know them, but there were four open seats, and they needed seats. That is the ultimate factor in the chow hall - where is there an open seat. This place is so overcrowded, that you could stand with your tray for a while scoping down a table of people who are nearly finished, in order to sit down once they are done. Race does not matter on where we eat in the chow hall. At the same time, friendships/relationships do matter. If people are planning to eat together, they will hold seats or a table to accommodate them all. We all do it at times and it is a generally accepted practice. It is not a practice to keep specific people away, just a practice to ensure there's a seat for your friend(s) or girlfriend.
Speaking of girlfriends, interracial couples occur all the time. Most people who do the dating thing, here, are with people of their same race, but not all. Many people seem to "date" people of racial differences. You will see an African American woman dating a Caucasian woman, a Native American woman dating a Latino woman, etc. In fact, some people "play" the dating game here in a way that they have SEVERAL girlfriends - and they are of all different racial backgrounds. Friendships are of the same variety. While most people tend to hang out with people from similar backgrounds, those backgrounds are more about personality than race. Those who "ruled the streets" tend to hang out together. The "white-collar" offenders tend to spend time together. The "drug lords" hang out together. The "junkies" hang out together. The people taking GED courses tend to hang out together. Well, you get the idea.
In our assigned rooms, it is a requirement that every room be racially diverse. For example, my room has one African American woman, a Native American woman, a Caucasian Christian woman, and me. Some rooms have two Caucasian women and two Latina women. It's all different - but no rooms are all of any racial background.
The same is true on outdoor rec teams. For example, the softball teams must be racially diverse or cannot play. Same with the volleyball, soccer, or anything else they have.
There are activities exclusively for specific religions, but anyone can register as that religion. The Native Americans have a weekly "sweat" and smoke traditional tobacco. There are different "services" for different racial groups. Today, there will be a "gospel showcase." The Jews have Tuesday afternoon Torah study, Friday night candle lighting, and special events for holidays. There is similar for Muslims, Catholics, etc.
The one thing that is displayed as majority rules - is any form of Christianity. I had written about how Christmas is huge here, and every unit decks out for the holiday, there are special Christmas treats, and even prayer in the units. I didn't end up posting it, because I didn't like how I wrote it. However, as a member of a minority religion, I am used to Christmas being such a prominent holiday. The holidays are so hard for so many people, at least the strong majority of people here will feel that they have a piece of normalcy during that time of the year.
So, overall, racial background does not really matter, except for one thing... there is racism. I hear slurs out of people's mouths ALL the time. It is overwhelming and horrifying to see people I thought were "cool" use such derogatory terms. There's homophobia at the same level too, which surprises me, given the vast majority of people are at least "gay for the stay." But the racism hits me hard. I've worked most my life helping break down the barriers between racial groups - conducting diversity training, promoting open and safe environments, etc. Here, though, the racism is everywhere and between all groups (just not between all people). I speak up against it when I can - but it is not always safe to do so. Some people are just mean or rude. I am not going to change them - especially in prison. They have built up this hatred on the streets, in their general upbringing, and/or between gang fights. I do my best to avoid these issues. In fact, I am likely more liberal than most people here. This surprised me - I had thought that people who were pushing drugs would likely be liberal, but I'm among predominantly Republicans and people who enjoy Fox news. I'm a CNN watcher. Sometimes, we get into interesting conversations, mostly people just don't talk politics.
So, as a Caucasian, 40-something, Jewish, liberal woman, I fit right in among the vast diversity of this place.
From Dragonfly: Indian Summer
I'm not sure where the term "Indian Summer" comes from and I sure hope it is not derogatory... so many things are and we just don't know... for example, did you know that, "rule of thumb," comes from an old law where husbands could not beat their wives with anything thicker than their thumb? Crazy, right?
Anyway, it is an "Indian summer" outside this weekend. We recently had a couple days where our temperature fell into the 30's-50's (yes, very mild), but this weekend, our temps are 80 degrees today and about 87 degrees tomorrow. I walked to my breakfast in shorts. It is mid-November. Okay, I am in the south - in Texas - maybe that shouldn't surprise me - but it does. Global Warming anyone?
With it so warm, most inmates will be outdoors today, catching some rays, kicking a hackey sack, playing a game of softball, walking the outdoor track, and/or just sitting on the benches talking. If I choose to go out today, it will be to join Freckles out by Outdoor Rec and sit at a picnic table and do a crossword. Nerd? Why, yes I am. When people see we are doing a crossword, they (for the most part) keep their distance. Ha. Speaking of nerds, Cache sent me a great package of "stuff" that I received yesterday. In it was the full printout of the musical "Rent" - one of my faves. When reading it, I can almost hear the voices of the stage productions I have seen. She also sent me fun jokes - a lot of nerdy, academic jokes. I laugh out loud. My roommates ask what is funny. They understand some of the jokes, but not all of them. I especially loved a picture on a Speed Limit sign that said something like 2(x+4)=108. Oh, such fun. (Need the answer? See end!).
Okay, how will I likely spend my weekend? Well, with everyone outdoors, I will happily be indoors, enjoying finishing some crochet projects (I've gotten much faster) and also enjoying the quiet. Usually, due to my work, I am only in my unit at night. During that time, people "claim" one of the 10 available tables. I always find one, but it is usually crowded and tough to come by. Last night, I heard several people talking - while we were still in our rooms for count - about how all the tables were already "spoken for." No one can "claim" a table, yet they RUN out of their rooms once count clears and grab 5 chairs and hold their chosen table. It's crazy stuff! I mean, we all have equal right to a seat at a table, but those of us who live further away from the location of the tables and/or are unable to run, can't get one. I know, this is stupid stuff to be complaining about, but everything is like this - laundry, tables, tv's, etc. People feel entitled and those of us wanting to avoid a fight or a trip to the SHU, just accept it. We are walked all over. And those who don't give a damn, they get anything they want --- until one day when the C.O. has had enough, and they are written up for something or another. It's like living in a house with all older siblings who ensure they get what they want and don't care what the younger sibling needs/wants. Except, there are hundreds of older siblings to deal with.
When I do sit at an empty table, I can't say that what happens is any better than any other table (although, I don't grab more chairs than I need). Why? Well, just like on the school yard, certain people tend to congregate together. There's a group of us that tend to sit at the same table, work on various craft projects, talk, share snacks/meals, and do our daily complaints about the state of our lives. You've heard about some of them - Danbury, South, Star, Nurse... but there's more, many more. Usually the people sit not just at the table, but one row beyond the table, because the table is full. Most of us are newer to the institution (although, some have been here a long time). Most of us are here for "white collar" crimes - although there are others (arms dealing, drug manufacturing, counterfeiting money, etc.). Sometimes, I can't believe I'm sitting next to someone who got caught with 9 kilos of coke or in their home manufacturing meth. Certainly a life I never anticipated. Here, we are all the same - we all wear Khaki weekdays and grey on weekends. Bad choices, addiction, and life circumstances got us here. I judge no one's crime. I just pray the people find a different path after incarceration. Nearly 70% of felons will find themselves back in prison... the number decreases substantially for those who participate in education programs or apprenticeships.
Anyway, my computer time is running low. I am going to go outside and walk slowly back to my unit. I'm going to enjoy a bit of Indian Summer. I'm going to clean my room (my turn!), and then I will grab a table in the atrium until 10am count. I'll be right back in that Atrium when count clears - perhaps all day - until 4pm count. After dinner, you'll find me there again... perhaps with a finished crochet project, making some friendship bracelets, or just sitting with my peers. That's a Saturday in Carswell.
(The answer to the nerd joke: Step 1 - write out equation: 2(x+4)=108 Step 2 - factor: 2x+8=108 Step 3 - subtract both sides by 8: 2x+8-8=108-8 Step 4 - divide both sides by 2:2x/2=100/2 Final Answer: x=50 --- that's the speed limit - 50 :-))
Anyway, it is an "Indian summer" outside this weekend. We recently had a couple days where our temperature fell into the 30's-50's (yes, very mild), but this weekend, our temps are 80 degrees today and about 87 degrees tomorrow. I walked to my breakfast in shorts. It is mid-November. Okay, I am in the south - in Texas - maybe that shouldn't surprise me - but it does. Global Warming anyone?
With it so warm, most inmates will be outdoors today, catching some rays, kicking a hackey sack, playing a game of softball, walking the outdoor track, and/or just sitting on the benches talking. If I choose to go out today, it will be to join Freckles out by Outdoor Rec and sit at a picnic table and do a crossword. Nerd? Why, yes I am. When people see we are doing a crossword, they (for the most part) keep their distance. Ha. Speaking of nerds, Cache sent me a great package of "stuff" that I received yesterday. In it was the full printout of the musical "Rent" - one of my faves. When reading it, I can almost hear the voices of the stage productions I have seen. She also sent me fun jokes - a lot of nerdy, academic jokes. I laugh out loud. My roommates ask what is funny. They understand some of the jokes, but not all of them. I especially loved a picture on a Speed Limit sign that said something like 2(x+4)=108. Oh, such fun. (Need the answer? See end!).
Okay, how will I likely spend my weekend? Well, with everyone outdoors, I will happily be indoors, enjoying finishing some crochet projects (I've gotten much faster) and also enjoying the quiet. Usually, due to my work, I am only in my unit at night. During that time, people "claim" one of the 10 available tables. I always find one, but it is usually crowded and tough to come by. Last night, I heard several people talking - while we were still in our rooms for count - about how all the tables were already "spoken for." No one can "claim" a table, yet they RUN out of their rooms once count clears and grab 5 chairs and hold their chosen table. It's crazy stuff! I mean, we all have equal right to a seat at a table, but those of us who live further away from the location of the tables and/or are unable to run, can't get one. I know, this is stupid stuff to be complaining about, but everything is like this - laundry, tables, tv's, etc. People feel entitled and those of us wanting to avoid a fight or a trip to the SHU, just accept it. We are walked all over. And those who don't give a damn, they get anything they want --- until one day when the C.O. has had enough, and they are written up for something or another. It's like living in a house with all older siblings who ensure they get what they want and don't care what the younger sibling needs/wants. Except, there are hundreds of older siblings to deal with.
When I do sit at an empty table, I can't say that what happens is any better than any other table (although, I don't grab more chairs than I need). Why? Well, just like on the school yard, certain people tend to congregate together. There's a group of us that tend to sit at the same table, work on various craft projects, talk, share snacks/meals, and do our daily complaints about the state of our lives. You've heard about some of them - Danbury, South, Star, Nurse... but there's more, many more. Usually the people sit not just at the table, but one row beyond the table, because the table is full. Most of us are newer to the institution (although, some have been here a long time). Most of us are here for "white collar" crimes - although there are others (arms dealing, drug manufacturing, counterfeiting money, etc.). Sometimes, I can't believe I'm sitting next to someone who got caught with 9 kilos of coke or in their home manufacturing meth. Certainly a life I never anticipated. Here, we are all the same - we all wear Khaki weekdays and grey on weekends. Bad choices, addiction, and life circumstances got us here. I judge no one's crime. I just pray the people find a different path after incarceration. Nearly 70% of felons will find themselves back in prison... the number decreases substantially for those who participate in education programs or apprenticeships.
Anyway, my computer time is running low. I am going to go outside and walk slowly back to my unit. I'm going to enjoy a bit of Indian Summer. I'm going to clean my room (my turn!), and then I will grab a table in the atrium until 10am count. I'll be right back in that Atrium when count clears - perhaps all day - until 4pm count. After dinner, you'll find me there again... perhaps with a finished crochet project, making some friendship bracelets, or just sitting with my peers. That's a Saturday in Carswell.
(The answer to the nerd joke: Step 1 - write out equation: 2(x+4)=108 Step 2 - factor: 2x+8=108 Step 3 - subtract both sides by 8: 2x+8-8=108-8 Step 4 - divide both sides by 2:2x/2=100/2 Final Answer: x=50 --- that's the speed limit - 50 :-))
Friday, November 15, 2013
From Dragonfly: Changes
I just wrote an email to a good friend. I wish I could call it back, but I can't - once it's sent through Trulincs, it is out of my control. While the way I ended the email was honest, I feel bad for being so negative. This is what I wrote:
"Health wise, I am declining. Mentally, I am declining. Spiritually, I am strong. Emotionally, I am numb."
Why did I write that? I think it goes to how people change in difficult vs. positive times.
In the GA program (as well as other recovery programs), we often tell people that they've changed (for the better). We say that it's not the person who will see the changes in themselves so much, over time, but rather their family, their friends, and the people in the recovery rooms. Change happens too slow for us to always see it in ourselves. Recovery helped me find my voice. It helped me deal with how passive I was and how much I blamed myself for everyone's issues. It helped me become less co-dependent or have a self-esteem based on what OTHERS thought of me, rather than myself. When I was able to tell someone that what they were saying about me was not true, I was shocked that I was able to stand up for myself. GA and recovery helped me do that. I've changed a lot since walking into my first GA meeting (the changes are about the person much more than the stopping of the addiction). If we change, we are much less likely to relapse or even want to do something so unhealthy (addictive behavior) again.
So, I think, I walked into prison much stronger than I would have 5 years ago. I am not "hard," but I am not as "soft" as I used to be.
However, just like in recovery, those around us can see the changes in our behavior, attitude, personality, etc before we realize we've changed. Last night, Danbury told me that I am not the same person she met here a couple months ago. She and South say that I've been "down" and rather "bitchy." I know that behavior is not intentional. Danbury thought I no longer wanted her as a friend because of my attitude.
When I look at my attitude as of late, I know that I am 100% more tired than I was when I walked in 3 months ago, even though I am always tired. My legs hurt. Bad. My walk has slowed considerably, and I've never been a fast walker (especially since getting sick). I keep to myself more. I suppose I've humbled myself to this experience. If anyone ever needs a lesson in humility, just spend one week in prison!
I didn't realize that these changes have come off on my relationships with other people here. I know they've affected my relationships with the people I care about back at home. At first, I wrote letters every day. I called someone most days. I wrote individual emails to different people. Now, there can be long breaks without letters, calls or emails. Why? It is impossible to "fake" it in order to act like everything's okay. It's also unfair to put the stress of my current circumstances on anyone but myself. I must admit, not only have my letters trickled, but the letters I receive have trickled down as well. As you know, at first, I was receiving a lot of mail. Now, I may get 3-5 letters/cards per week. A couple people have been consistent in writing, and I appreciate it sooooooo much. Others, have not. I don't blame them at all. They have their lives and things to do that is much more important than writing me. Plus, since I have not been a good friend back, I cannot have any reason to expect them to be a better friend than I am being.
I do not like the way I am "changing" at this time. I'm not sure if it happens to everyone, or just some people. For me, I'm still far stronger a person than I was 5 years ago. I am just becoming "harder." I am drained emotionally, physically, and mentally. I see scary things every day. I hear frightening stories every day. I sit next to murderers every day. I witness medical neglect every day. I fear doctors and their actions. The only place I feel safe is my twin bed. Even there, I hear fighting. I hear crying. I hear people gasping for breaths. I hear C.O.'s screaming. I hear constant noise.
I suppose it's inevitable that such experiences will change a person. I pray that my current changes are just temporary. I know that I am just becoming a product of prison life. I move slowly through each day, wearing the same khaki as every other inmate, go to my job, eat three meals, and pray that I get a good night's sleep.
So, I suppose what I wrote to my friend is as true as it gets. I just wish it weren't so.
"Health wise, I am declining. Mentally, I am declining. Spiritually, I am strong. Emotionally, I am numb."
Why did I write that? I think it goes to how people change in difficult vs. positive times.
In the GA program (as well as other recovery programs), we often tell people that they've changed (for the better). We say that it's not the person who will see the changes in themselves so much, over time, but rather their family, their friends, and the people in the recovery rooms. Change happens too slow for us to always see it in ourselves. Recovery helped me find my voice. It helped me deal with how passive I was and how much I blamed myself for everyone's issues. It helped me become less co-dependent or have a self-esteem based on what OTHERS thought of me, rather than myself. When I was able to tell someone that what they were saying about me was not true, I was shocked that I was able to stand up for myself. GA and recovery helped me do that. I've changed a lot since walking into my first GA meeting (the changes are about the person much more than the stopping of the addiction). If we change, we are much less likely to relapse or even want to do something so unhealthy (addictive behavior) again.
So, I think, I walked into prison much stronger than I would have 5 years ago. I am not "hard," but I am not as "soft" as I used to be.
However, just like in recovery, those around us can see the changes in our behavior, attitude, personality, etc before we realize we've changed. Last night, Danbury told me that I am not the same person she met here a couple months ago. She and South say that I've been "down" and rather "bitchy." I know that behavior is not intentional. Danbury thought I no longer wanted her as a friend because of my attitude.
When I look at my attitude as of late, I know that I am 100% more tired than I was when I walked in 3 months ago, even though I am always tired. My legs hurt. Bad. My walk has slowed considerably, and I've never been a fast walker (especially since getting sick). I keep to myself more. I suppose I've humbled myself to this experience. If anyone ever needs a lesson in humility, just spend one week in prison!
I didn't realize that these changes have come off on my relationships with other people here. I know they've affected my relationships with the people I care about back at home. At first, I wrote letters every day. I called someone most days. I wrote individual emails to different people. Now, there can be long breaks without letters, calls or emails. Why? It is impossible to "fake" it in order to act like everything's okay. It's also unfair to put the stress of my current circumstances on anyone but myself. I must admit, not only have my letters trickled, but the letters I receive have trickled down as well. As you know, at first, I was receiving a lot of mail. Now, I may get 3-5 letters/cards per week. A couple people have been consistent in writing, and I appreciate it sooooooo much. Others, have not. I don't blame them at all. They have their lives and things to do that is much more important than writing me. Plus, since I have not been a good friend back, I cannot have any reason to expect them to be a better friend than I am being.
I do not like the way I am "changing" at this time. I'm not sure if it happens to everyone, or just some people. For me, I'm still far stronger a person than I was 5 years ago. I am just becoming "harder." I am drained emotionally, physically, and mentally. I see scary things every day. I hear frightening stories every day. I sit next to murderers every day. I witness medical neglect every day. I fear doctors and their actions. The only place I feel safe is my twin bed. Even there, I hear fighting. I hear crying. I hear people gasping for breaths. I hear C.O.'s screaming. I hear constant noise.
I suppose it's inevitable that such experiences will change a person. I pray that my current changes are just temporary. I know that I am just becoming a product of prison life. I move slowly through each day, wearing the same khaki as every other inmate, go to my job, eat three meals, and pray that I get a good night's sleep.
So, I suppose what I wrote to my friend is as true as it gets. I just wish it weren't so.
From Dragonfly: GED Countdown
So, as you know, I work as a GED tutor. What that means is that I spend my days working with students on the 5 subject areas: math, science, social studies, writing (test and essay), and reading. Students tend to move at their own pace, even though we do have full-class assignments most days. Every couple months, students are submitted for TABE tests. There are three levels of TABE - an easy, a medium, and an advanced. If students do well on the easy TABE, the next time they test, they will take the medium or the advanced. Once a student scores well on either the medium or advanced TABE, the student is signed up for an official GED Pre-Test. The Pre-Test is closer to the actual GED test in most ways than the TABE. Once a student scores well enough on the Pre-Test (which we do every 1-2 months), they are signed up for the official GED Test. Om order to pass, students have to receive a 410 minumum score on all subject areas with at least a 450 average. Each subject test is out of 800 points. Sometimes, students are doing well in several subjects, but struggling in just one - usually math. When that happens, we do more intensive teaching on the subject. Well, that's how we usually do things.
For the past week, I have had a class of 10 students who are taking the GED next week. Instead of keeping them in the classroom assigned, the instructors pulled them out and put them in a math-intensive, all-day GED study class. All but one of the students is not so excited to sit in a classroom all day. The GED test changes early in 2014, and it is important they pass before that time, or they will have to start all over again with some harder material. Why I was selected to put together the curriculum and spend my full days with these students, I'm not sure, but I am enjoying it. The white board in the room we are using looks like one from "A brilliant mind" or "good will hunting" where there are equations everywhere and numbers and answers and geometric shapes... it's kind of cool! I spent 2 hours this morning helping students set up how to solve algebraic word problems. If I took the GRE (graduate record examination) again (since I last took it in 2010), I would imagine my math score will increase 10 fold!!! In fact, I may just do that, if I have to start applying all over again for grad school... I hope I don't!
So, for 4 days, I have been with these students. Although, we are down to 8 students as of today. The teacher in charge officially kicked 2 students out of the intensive study class and won't test them next week. Not because they aren't capable, but due to attitude. They were disruptive to everyone and didn't want to be there. One thing the tutors and teachers agree on, is that we can't want the students to get their GED more than the student does. They won't be tested unless they have the right attitude.
I try to focus the students away from their low self-esteem on what they didn't learn earlier in life and struggle with today. To me, it is not about what they don't know (they do not need a perfect 800 on the test). It is about how much they DO know, and how much more they've learned since starting these classes. That's what matters! I hope to celebrate in a couple months when we officially learn how many of these students pass the test before the end of December. I'll know that I may have helped them understand a new concept or as happened yesterday in class, "I just had an epiphany.... I get it!!!" one of the students yelled out. A worthwhile job indeed.
For the past week, I have had a class of 10 students who are taking the GED next week. Instead of keeping them in the classroom assigned, the instructors pulled them out and put them in a math-intensive, all-day GED study class. All but one of the students is not so excited to sit in a classroom all day. The GED test changes early in 2014, and it is important they pass before that time, or they will have to start all over again with some harder material. Why I was selected to put together the curriculum and spend my full days with these students, I'm not sure, but I am enjoying it. The white board in the room we are using looks like one from "A brilliant mind" or "good will hunting" where there are equations everywhere and numbers and answers and geometric shapes... it's kind of cool! I spent 2 hours this morning helping students set up how to solve algebraic word problems. If I took the GRE (graduate record examination) again (since I last took it in 2010), I would imagine my math score will increase 10 fold!!! In fact, I may just do that, if I have to start applying all over again for grad school... I hope I don't!
So, for 4 days, I have been with these students. Although, we are down to 8 students as of today. The teacher in charge officially kicked 2 students out of the intensive study class and won't test them next week. Not because they aren't capable, but due to attitude. They were disruptive to everyone and didn't want to be there. One thing the tutors and teachers agree on, is that we can't want the students to get their GED more than the student does. They won't be tested unless they have the right attitude.
I try to focus the students away from their low self-esteem on what they didn't learn earlier in life and struggle with today. To me, it is not about what they don't know (they do not need a perfect 800 on the test). It is about how much they DO know, and how much more they've learned since starting these classes. That's what matters! I hope to celebrate in a couple months when we officially learn how many of these students pass the test before the end of December. I'll know that I may have helped them understand a new concept or as happened yesterday in class, "I just had an epiphany.... I get it!!!" one of the students yelled out. A worthwhile job indeed.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
From Dragonfly: Cold Shower
Every so often, you get into the shower here and there's only cold water. Our water has been exclusively freezing since last night. I still took a shower this morning, but it was awfully fast... most people did not do the shower route. Anyway, I did not expect this day to go anywhere good after a morning cold shower, but I was pleasantly surprised, and it is only 7:15am.
While eating a pop tart and watching the morning news in my unit, a woman sitting next to me and I started talking. Turns out that she was born in the city where I was prosecuted for my crimes... then it turns out that she was also a compulsive gambler. And, she is here for wire fraud for crimes connected to her gambling... first person who has my story.
Unfortunately, she has never been to a GA meeting and knows nothing about recovery. So, I offered her some materials. I lent her one of the books sent to me, as well as some materials my counselor sent my way. Although she hasn't gambled in 2 years, it is like a dry drunk, you need the recovery program to help you - especially once released from prison. Also, many people outside of G.A. don't recognize that contests, raffles, etc are also gambling. They may say they haven't been to a casino, but they may still be feeding their gambling action needs through different forms of gambling (which are plentiful in prison). So, I hope Ska decides to talk with me more about her gambling. She gambled in the same casinos as me - as well as the ones up in Alaska. We were surprised by our similar stories that led us in to prison. I hope she chooses to seek recovery. Whether or not she does, I know that I've armed her with some great reading materials and hope that she tries to understand the underlying gambling addiction. Only then, can she be able to make the changes necessary to ensure that she does not find herself going back to gambling, or, as happens with so many, switching to a different addiction.
So, cold water was just a disguise for a day where I was able to do something for someone else. It felt good.
While eating a pop tart and watching the morning news in my unit, a woman sitting next to me and I started talking. Turns out that she was born in the city where I was prosecuted for my crimes... then it turns out that she was also a compulsive gambler. And, she is here for wire fraud for crimes connected to her gambling... first person who has my story.
Unfortunately, she has never been to a GA meeting and knows nothing about recovery. So, I offered her some materials. I lent her one of the books sent to me, as well as some materials my counselor sent my way. Although she hasn't gambled in 2 years, it is like a dry drunk, you need the recovery program to help you - especially once released from prison. Also, many people outside of G.A. don't recognize that contests, raffles, etc are also gambling. They may say they haven't been to a casino, but they may still be feeding their gambling action needs through different forms of gambling (which are plentiful in prison). So, I hope Ska decides to talk with me more about her gambling. She gambled in the same casinos as me - as well as the ones up in Alaska. We were surprised by our similar stories that led us in to prison. I hope she chooses to seek recovery. Whether or not she does, I know that I've armed her with some great reading materials and hope that she tries to understand the underlying gambling addiction. Only then, can she be able to make the changes necessary to ensure that she does not find herself going back to gambling, or, as happens with so many, switching to a different addiction.
So, cold water was just a disguise for a day where I was able to do something for someone else. It felt good.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
From Dragonfly: Three Foot Locker
What would you hold precious if all your belongings had to fit in a locker that was 3' tall by 1.5' wide? Imagine looking at all your belongings and making the decisions of what to keep with you. Would it be your cell phone? computer? For me, I would probably include my grandfather's pipe and pictures of the people I am closest with. Many would choose their sunglasses, perhaps some paper and pens. Maybe an Mp3 full of favorite tunes. Some favorite books may be held. But don't forget, all your clothing also must fit in this locker. How would you organize? How would you manage?
That's what the truth is in prison. Some prison's give inmates tall lockers and/or under the bed storage. At Carswell, we have a small locker and that's it. What we can keep outside our locker is one uniform, one towel, and our bedding (our beds made perfectly). We also can keep our dirty clothing in a bag under the bed and our shoes lined up against the back wall. So, everything else, must go in the locker. The locker has three shelves on one side and is open on the other. Inmates can not have the metal hanging bar that would normally go on the open side, so we make bars out of rolled up magazines and hang our hangers from that. Until I had a magazine bar, I used yarn pulled through the side holes a bunch of times to hold the weight of the hangers.
My locker has all my clothing, water bottle, puzzle magazines, books, cards mailed to me, handmade calendar, medication, toiletries and all hygiene products, lined paper, craft paper, yarn, embroidery string, snack food, address book, address labels, envelopes, extra batteries, book light, peanut butter & jelly, my winter cap, radio, legal documents, letters, scissors, pens and pencils, folders, crochet needles, finished crochet projects waiting for mail out, towels, wash clothes, cheese, juice cans, sprite, work calculator, my i.d., commissary bag, pictures, two reader's digests, people magazine, school books, lotion, ear plugs, utensils, 7 cup Tupperware bowl and lid... well, you get the idea.
These are the items I value while in prison. So, how do we organize all this? We make ourselves locker organizers. They are made of plastic needle point squares that fit in our inside locker door. I have one and am making a second one. I cross stitch the design onto the plastic that is about 70 holes tall and 70 holes wide. It takes about 2 1/2 to fill the entire locker door. I'm making one that is 2 pieces of plastic long. I am having fun building small, medium, and large pocket attachments out of additional pieces of plastic (cut to the sizes I want). I am long stitching the background and the accents are in burgundy. Here's a skill I never knew I would learn! I stitched my name into the top of the organizer. The other organizer I have is not as fancy, I'll start fixing it when I finish the one I started this weekend (will be done tonight or tomorrow). Small items fit well in the pockets, which allows the inside of the locker to be more organized with larger items.
Another thing I made was a can holder. Every time I would reach in my locker for something, one of my juice cans would fall out. I took some of that plastic, and designed a long can holder so that they cannot fall out (it makes the cans fit the same as a 12-pack cardboard container for the fridge, but mine fits 6 cans. It's helped a lot.
Finally, I made 3 small shelves for part of the empty side of the locker. They hang off of 2 hangers and hold my panties, socks, and bras. I'm the only person I know who has done that. A lot of people make one of their door organizers into crochet pockets for their underclothes. I like my shelves - very convenient.
I'd like to say that all this stuff makes my locker incredibly organized, but no matter how many pockets, boxes, or unique item holders I make, I still have too many items for the small locker. Nearly every time I reach into the lock, something falls. I'm not giving up on it, though. I clean the locker every weekend. I organize, organize, organize... until I no longer can find the thing I need to find (whoops...). The locker may have an area of 4.5', but to me, it's the most important 4.5' in this entire institution.
That's what the truth is in prison. Some prison's give inmates tall lockers and/or under the bed storage. At Carswell, we have a small locker and that's it. What we can keep outside our locker is one uniform, one towel, and our bedding (our beds made perfectly). We also can keep our dirty clothing in a bag under the bed and our shoes lined up against the back wall. So, everything else, must go in the locker. The locker has three shelves on one side and is open on the other. Inmates can not have the metal hanging bar that would normally go on the open side, so we make bars out of rolled up magazines and hang our hangers from that. Until I had a magazine bar, I used yarn pulled through the side holes a bunch of times to hold the weight of the hangers.
My locker has all my clothing, water bottle, puzzle magazines, books, cards mailed to me, handmade calendar, medication, toiletries and all hygiene products, lined paper, craft paper, yarn, embroidery string, snack food, address book, address labels, envelopes, extra batteries, book light, peanut butter & jelly, my winter cap, radio, legal documents, letters, scissors, pens and pencils, folders, crochet needles, finished crochet projects waiting for mail out, towels, wash clothes, cheese, juice cans, sprite, work calculator, my i.d., commissary bag, pictures, two reader's digests, people magazine, school books, lotion, ear plugs, utensils, 7 cup Tupperware bowl and lid... well, you get the idea.
These are the items I value while in prison. So, how do we organize all this? We make ourselves locker organizers. They are made of plastic needle point squares that fit in our inside locker door. I have one and am making a second one. I cross stitch the design onto the plastic that is about 70 holes tall and 70 holes wide. It takes about 2 1/2 to fill the entire locker door. I'm making one that is 2 pieces of plastic long. I am having fun building small, medium, and large pocket attachments out of additional pieces of plastic (cut to the sizes I want). I am long stitching the background and the accents are in burgundy. Here's a skill I never knew I would learn! I stitched my name into the top of the organizer. The other organizer I have is not as fancy, I'll start fixing it when I finish the one I started this weekend (will be done tonight or tomorrow). Small items fit well in the pockets, which allows the inside of the locker to be more organized with larger items.
Another thing I made was a can holder. Every time I would reach in my locker for something, one of my juice cans would fall out. I took some of that plastic, and designed a long can holder so that they cannot fall out (it makes the cans fit the same as a 12-pack cardboard container for the fridge, but mine fits 6 cans. It's helped a lot.
Finally, I made 3 small shelves for part of the empty side of the locker. They hang off of 2 hangers and hold my panties, socks, and bras. I'm the only person I know who has done that. A lot of people make one of their door organizers into crochet pockets for their underclothes. I like my shelves - very convenient.
I'd like to say that all this stuff makes my locker incredibly organized, but no matter how many pockets, boxes, or unique item holders I make, I still have too many items for the small locker. Nearly every time I reach into the lock, something falls. I'm not giving up on it, though. I clean the locker every weekend. I organize, organize, organize... until I no longer can find the thing I need to find (whoops...). The locker may have an area of 4.5', but to me, it's the most important 4.5' in this entire institution.
From Dragonfly: A Horror Story
Last night, while my room was waiting for 9:30pm count (which occurred after 10pm), we were all telling stories about our first days incarcerated. I am going to share a story, which I verified with the individual (as I gave her a hug that I think I needed after hearing her story even more than she did). When she came to Carswell, she was designated to the camp across the street. In addition to the FMC, Carswell has a small women's prison camp (about 200 inmates) that live at an old motel on the military base. We can see the facility outside our gates. The camp has no fencing, the inmates can walk around a lake, work on the base, and have no "closed" moves. That's what those of us who are "minimum" security, but stranded in the FMC, are supposed to get for treatment - but the medical center treats every inmate the same - at a medium security level (except for the few women in MAX, the SHU, or in some administrative type status).
Anyway, this inmate has severe kidney issues. I believe she was born with only one kidney, and at the time of her incarceration, her kidney was not well-functioning and she had an outer bag to help her. When R&D learned about the kidney issue and bag, she was told that she could not go to the camp, but rather would be in the medical unit. I guess they were not expecting her, so they needed to do the redesignation, so they put her in an administrative cell - single cell, large metal door, small hole that opens to the hallway, a small window to the hallway, no control of lighting, metal bed with no mattress, one sheet, no blanket or pillow... and she had the bible that she brought with her from home. Well, they forgot about her in that cell... for two days. She self-surrendered on a Monday and no one gave her any food or water until someone opened her cell on Wednesday and asked, "Are you ______ (last name)?" She was then moved to a regular housing unit.
The inmate says that while in the cell, she figured that her time in Carswell would be that experience and that she would spend 2 years in the cell, with no interaction with others. She did not understand why they weren't feeding her. She would bang on the door, begging for water, but none came. She prayed a lot - and her bible gave her comfort. She was in shock.
At one point, they were doing "count" on the floor, and someone screamed into her door to "stand count" (which she did not yet know what that meant). So she stood up and then waited for when she would be told she could once again sit... 45 minutes later, someone came by and asked why she was still standing. She didn't know that the standing was just for the time of count.
I nearly cried hearing this story. My first days here were so very scary. I can not imagine having an experience such as this woman. She was locked up with no ability to communicate with loved ones and lost in the system. Terrifying doesn't begin to explain the emotions one would go through. I hugged her last night, because, to me, she is a survivor. You would never know that she faced such terrifying beginnings here. She usually is a very positive person - the kind of woman who you know only found her way to prison by a real mistake and intends to never find her way back. She is religious, kind, and giving (qualities that are not all that common in prison). I know that I am privileged to have met her.
Since it is a holiday, today is a day they feed us "special" food. For breakfast, we had strawberry frosted flakes and some turnovers. What a treat! They say that later it will be bacon cheeseburgers. I've only seen bacon here once (on another holiday). I don't really want yet another HAMBURGER, but we will see. Yesterday, I had a wonderful lunch in my unit - tuna. Sometimes, it's just better to make one's own meals - expensive, but better!
Finally, I am actually becoming a 'decent' crocheter. I've finished two projects so far (both with mistakes, but the second is far better than the first) and I'm going to keep crocheting. Who knows, maybe it will be a skill I will need as I make my way through the world once released.
Well, my best to all the veterans - including Army!
Anyway, this inmate has severe kidney issues. I believe she was born with only one kidney, and at the time of her incarceration, her kidney was not well-functioning and she had an outer bag to help her. When R&D learned about the kidney issue and bag, she was told that she could not go to the camp, but rather would be in the medical unit. I guess they were not expecting her, so they needed to do the redesignation, so they put her in an administrative cell - single cell, large metal door, small hole that opens to the hallway, a small window to the hallway, no control of lighting, metal bed with no mattress, one sheet, no blanket or pillow... and she had the bible that she brought with her from home. Well, they forgot about her in that cell... for two days. She self-surrendered on a Monday and no one gave her any food or water until someone opened her cell on Wednesday and asked, "Are you ______ (last name)?" She was then moved to a regular housing unit.
The inmate says that while in the cell, she figured that her time in Carswell would be that experience and that she would spend 2 years in the cell, with no interaction with others. She did not understand why they weren't feeding her. She would bang on the door, begging for water, but none came. She prayed a lot - and her bible gave her comfort. She was in shock.
At one point, they were doing "count" on the floor, and someone screamed into her door to "stand count" (which she did not yet know what that meant). So she stood up and then waited for when she would be told she could once again sit... 45 minutes later, someone came by and asked why she was still standing. She didn't know that the standing was just for the time of count.
I nearly cried hearing this story. My first days here were so very scary. I can not imagine having an experience such as this woman. She was locked up with no ability to communicate with loved ones and lost in the system. Terrifying doesn't begin to explain the emotions one would go through. I hugged her last night, because, to me, she is a survivor. You would never know that she faced such terrifying beginnings here. She usually is a very positive person - the kind of woman who you know only found her way to prison by a real mistake and intends to never find her way back. She is religious, kind, and giving (qualities that are not all that common in prison). I know that I am privileged to have met her.
Since it is a holiday, today is a day they feed us "special" food. For breakfast, we had strawberry frosted flakes and some turnovers. What a treat! They say that later it will be bacon cheeseburgers. I've only seen bacon here once (on another holiday). I don't really want yet another HAMBURGER, but we will see. Yesterday, I had a wonderful lunch in my unit - tuna. Sometimes, it's just better to make one's own meals - expensive, but better!
Finally, I am actually becoming a 'decent' crocheter. I've finished two projects so far (both with mistakes, but the second is far better than the first) and I'm going to keep crocheting. Who knows, maybe it will be a skill I will need as I make my way through the world once released.
Well, my best to all the veterans - including Army!
Saturday, November 9, 2013
From Dragonfly: Reader's Digest
I grew up in a home, where my mom got Reader's Digest monthly. After reading it, she would put it on a shelf in the den. We had a shelf full of Reader's Digest magazines. I never opened one of them to see what was inside. I have no idea if it is like it was when it started in the 1920's or if it has changed a lot over the years, but I recently received my second monthly issue, and must say, it is the perfect reading for someone in prison. Why?
It is full of laughter! This last issue had over 100 funny stories, jokes, cartoons and more. These were not "stupid" humor items, but the kind of comedy I like - smart humor. Some were so good, I laughed out loud and/or shared them with my roommates.
The reading is quick. The digest is full of short stories, articles, and and commentaries. These are easy to pick up and read while waiting in line for the clinic, waiting for stand-up count, or for some, waiting in pill line.
The magazine has a lot of content. While each story is relatively short, there's a lot of it. It's not a magazine you look through for 30 minutes and put down. For me, it took me two days to ingest all the great materials.
Speaking of which, the non-joke material is wonderful to read. They have sections of books, personal stories, and educational stories. For example, I just read a wonderful story written by a mother who lost her young son in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting. I also read a piece about 10 things that make your home a home (family, art, etc.). I read something about signs someone may have a stroke (did you know that a crease in your earlobe may be a telltale sign?). The content is interesting, covers many topics, and is well written. Even the ads are interesting (I loved one that had a thumbprint and it was full of about 100 funny sayings). Okay, I do admit, I'm dying for good entertainment and reading materials (prison sucks, if you didn't know that).
Now, I certainly do not work for Reader's Digest. I am getting no "kick-back" for this plug for the magazine. I'm just saying it may be a magazine to start re-looking at - and a great one to send loved ones in prison.
It is full of laughter! This last issue had over 100 funny stories, jokes, cartoons and more. These were not "stupid" humor items, but the kind of comedy I like - smart humor. Some were so good, I laughed out loud and/or shared them with my roommates.
The reading is quick. The digest is full of short stories, articles, and and commentaries. These are easy to pick up and read while waiting in line for the clinic, waiting for stand-up count, or for some, waiting in pill line.
The magazine has a lot of content. While each story is relatively short, there's a lot of it. It's not a magazine you look through for 30 minutes and put down. For me, it took me two days to ingest all the great materials.
Speaking of which, the non-joke material is wonderful to read. They have sections of books, personal stories, and educational stories. For example, I just read a wonderful story written by a mother who lost her young son in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting. I also read a piece about 10 things that make your home a home (family, art, etc.). I read something about signs someone may have a stroke (did you know that a crease in your earlobe may be a telltale sign?). The content is interesting, covers many topics, and is well written. Even the ads are interesting (I loved one that had a thumbprint and it was full of about 100 funny sayings). Okay, I do admit, I'm dying for good entertainment and reading materials (prison sucks, if you didn't know that).
Now, I certainly do not work for Reader's Digest. I am getting no "kick-back" for this plug for the magazine. I'm just saying it may be a magazine to start re-looking at - and a great one to send loved ones in prison.
From Dragonfly: Inmate.com
Inmate.com is the rumor mill. The first time I heard an inmate say that they heard something on inmate.com, I asked, "where do I access that?" Okay, I am gullible. All it means is that it's going around as a rumor. All sorts of things are on inmate.com. There's news of an inmate recall (which is only usually 20% accurate), sending people home (which is only about 10% accurate), transferring a lot of people to other facilities (which is about 45% accurate), health scares (which is usually about 99% accurate), fights (which is about 100% accurate), new items in commissary (about 70% accurate), well, you get the idea. There are constant rumors. We always hear about C.O.'s having affairs with inmates (probably about 0.1% accurate). But the rumors that really bother me, are the rumors about grandiose opportunities upon our release.
From early in my time here in Carswell, I started to hear the rumors. Inmates from all walks of life talk about them. The first rumor is that once we are released from prison, we can go to social security, file some documents about PTSD from prison, and have like $1,600 within a couple days. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is!
Another is that we automatically qualify for disability upon release. Well, that is true for those who were on disability PRIOR to imprisonment, but not so much for the general population. Again, too good to be true.
People say that social security will put us on their rolls. Ummm, social security starts at age 65, so for most of us, we wouldn't even qualify. Too good...
Finally, there's a rumor on inmate.com that we are eligible for a government grant for up to $16,000 to help us start our own business. Does anyone realize we are criminals? The government is not going to just hand us money - UNLESS we continue our manipulative ways and do, yet, another illegal thing. Money is not just handed to ex-felons. (Oh, there is the possibility of $100 given to us as we head home --- but that's all).
So, I decided to research all the above items. I asked friends at home to do research and I went to the library and read books about getting started again, once released from prison. I can now verify that inmate.com is wrong when it comes to beliefs about "free money" upon release from prison. We need to find jobs, pay our own rent, feed ourselves, and take care of our own families. Oh, and pay our restitution.
That's not to say that some states may have special programs, but that would be state to state, so I cannot verify whether it's true or not. Also, there are federal programs we can APPLY for and possibly QUALIFY for. These include food stamps, welfare, unemployment, disability, emergency funding, emergency housing, and more. However, these are not guaranteed, some of these programs are only going to be for families with children, and nothing will happen overnight. That's one of the reasons almost all inmates go through a halfway house prior to full community re-entry.
I, also, read in a book that some states, not sure if it is most states or not, will not allow anyone still on supervised released to live in Section 8 housing. Many people here come from section 8 housing, so this may surprise them. Also, at least New York (I couldn't find books on other states yesterday), will not allow anyone to live in section 8 housing until they are off supervision AND done paying their restitution. Had that been my only option, it would have been closed to me, as the amount of my restitution is beyond my ability to pay off without a good job. Since section 8 is a federal program, I imagine New York's rules are similar to those in other states.
Don't be too discouraged, though. I did hear a news story this morning about a new home being built for women just recently released from prison. There are places like that throughout the country. There are community programs that help us. There are food pantries to feed us. Many of us have family and friends to help us out until we get ourselves settled. I just request that people think through what inmate.com is saying. If it sounds too good to be true (i.e. "they are sending 800 of us home within two months") it probably is too good to be true!
From early in my time here in Carswell, I started to hear the rumors. Inmates from all walks of life talk about them. The first rumor is that once we are released from prison, we can go to social security, file some documents about PTSD from prison, and have like $1,600 within a couple days. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is!
Another is that we automatically qualify for disability upon release. Well, that is true for those who were on disability PRIOR to imprisonment, but not so much for the general population. Again, too good to be true.
People say that social security will put us on their rolls. Ummm, social security starts at age 65, so for most of us, we wouldn't even qualify. Too good...
Finally, there's a rumor on inmate.com that we are eligible for a government grant for up to $16,000 to help us start our own business. Does anyone realize we are criminals? The government is not going to just hand us money - UNLESS we continue our manipulative ways and do, yet, another illegal thing. Money is not just handed to ex-felons. (Oh, there is the possibility of $100 given to us as we head home --- but that's all).
So, I decided to research all the above items. I asked friends at home to do research and I went to the library and read books about getting started again, once released from prison. I can now verify that inmate.com is wrong when it comes to beliefs about "free money" upon release from prison. We need to find jobs, pay our own rent, feed ourselves, and take care of our own families. Oh, and pay our restitution.
That's not to say that some states may have special programs, but that would be state to state, so I cannot verify whether it's true or not. Also, there are federal programs we can APPLY for and possibly QUALIFY for. These include food stamps, welfare, unemployment, disability, emergency funding, emergency housing, and more. However, these are not guaranteed, some of these programs are only going to be for families with children, and nothing will happen overnight. That's one of the reasons almost all inmates go through a halfway house prior to full community re-entry.
I, also, read in a book that some states, not sure if it is most states or not, will not allow anyone still on supervised released to live in Section 8 housing. Many people here come from section 8 housing, so this may surprise them. Also, at least New York (I couldn't find books on other states yesterday), will not allow anyone to live in section 8 housing until they are off supervision AND done paying their restitution. Had that been my only option, it would have been closed to me, as the amount of my restitution is beyond my ability to pay off without a good job. Since section 8 is a federal program, I imagine New York's rules are similar to those in other states.
Don't be too discouraged, though. I did hear a news story this morning about a new home being built for women just recently released from prison. There are places like that throughout the country. There are community programs that help us. There are food pantries to feed us. Many of us have family and friends to help us out until we get ourselves settled. I just request that people think through what inmate.com is saying. If it sounds too good to be true (i.e. "they are sending 800 of us home within two months") it probably is too good to be true!
Thursday, November 7, 2013
From Dragonfly: Team 2
Today was my second team meeting. Team, again, is when inmates meet with their case worker, unit manager, and unit counselor all together. Since I leave in less than a year, I have team 3-4 times total before I leave. My next one is scheduled in March, 2014.
Anyway, during team, they talk about any issues within the institution (like if I have been getting in trouble --- which I have not), they update my paperwork (now shows I have a job and that I got off kosher fare), and talk about anything necessary happening on the outside. They are surprised that Sporty has not yet heard from probation to approve my release home. Once the home is approved, my case manager can put in for my halfway house date. They are still hoping for it to be longer than just good time, but rather several months. Nothing can happen until my home is approved, though. So, it may be a long while for any changes to my out date. If I get a longer halfway house stay, I would be able to go through the halfway house quickly and then move to home confinement. I'm willing to do anything to lawfully free myself from prison!
Anyway, during team, they talk about any issues within the institution (like if I have been getting in trouble --- which I have not), they update my paperwork (now shows I have a job and that I got off kosher fare), and talk about anything necessary happening on the outside. They are surprised that Sporty has not yet heard from probation to approve my release home. Once the home is approved, my case manager can put in for my halfway house date. They are still hoping for it to be longer than just good time, but rather several months. Nothing can happen until my home is approved, though. So, it may be a long while for any changes to my out date. If I get a longer halfway house stay, I would be able to go through the halfway house quickly and then move to home confinement. I'm willing to do anything to lawfully free myself from prison!
From Dragonfly: No Matter
No matter how bad I think I have it, there's always people who have it worse. Here, in prison, I see people fighting cancer, with bald heads, and no family around. I see people carried down two flights of stairs (the elevator is broken), while having a seizure. I see women standing 3+ hours in lines to get their medication that keeps them alive. I see people having spent 20+ years in prison, with no hope of dying anywhere else. I see women who belong in a psychiatric hospital, not a prison. I see women who have lost custody of their babies, even though their prison sentence is not long and others who have lost their entire families. I see women who never got the help they need, and are still battling drug addiction - willing to do anything to get that next high. I see women unable to attend the funerals of their most beloved people - spouses, parents, siblings and children. I see many people who have given up on hope.
Not just here, but throughout the world, there are people so much less fortunate than I (even though most would think my current circumstances grants me "unfortunate" status). In South Africa, I walked through townships filled with shacks (made of scraps and tarps) without electricity or running water, attempting to raise generations of family in one or two rooms. In Vietnam, I met families who could not afford shoes for their children and whose only mode of transportation was a hand built canoe with holes. I've met countless homeless throughout the U.S. and the world. So many can only live day to day, yet they do not give up hope - and neither shall I.
I open with all this because I learned in a letter last night, that my admission to my University, where I have given two years of quality study, research, and work, has officially revoked my admission. This news is devastating to me. It is impossible for people here to understand why my education would cause such feelings - they say things like, "Can't you just go somewhere else?" I truly gave my heart and soul into my PhD program and in return, I was given amazing opportunities and set goals for my future. Having lost two careers due to my addiction and crime associated with it's downfall, as well as family, reputation, community, friends, etc to the devastation of my gambling addiction, going back to school was my opportunity at a second chance. It was a very rigorous application process and my final decision on where to attend was not made lightly. I officially started a new life, moving to a new state, leaving all my friends and family, to attend this school. Now, T.S. and Sporty have joined me. T.S. is a freshman at the University and Sporty moved there to be there for both me and T.S. My home is now with Sporty in that town. My three years of supervision will be there, just a 5 minute drive from my campus, living with Sporty. I'm leaving here at 41 years of ago and it is a LONG process to start over again. I would have to go to a new school, go through the application process, and would now need to reveal that I am a felon. When I went through the last application process, it was years before any of these federal charges. I do not think it likely that another program will accept me after I need to reveal the truth on why I am no longer at my former University.
I am allowed to appeal the decision. I can't even try to do this without a lawyer, which I do not have. They gave me 30 days, and the letter I write would go to the supervisor of Dr. P. in her new position and since she is part of this story, it would be a conflict to go against her wishes. So, this leaves me with a lot of unknowns. What I had hoped was that I was coming home to - my classes, my old job that I loved, health insurance - all that is no more. Thank god for my recovery program and my trust that, somehow, things will work out for me in the end - as long as I keep doing the right next thing. I must release control and concentrate on all I am grateful for.
I am not fighting cancer. I get visitors. I don't have seizures. I don't have to stand in pill line. I will be out of prison in less than 9 months. I will die someday and somewhere outside of prison. I am not mentally ill. I am surrounded by support and love from biological and chosen family. I no longer battle addiction. I can focus on recovery. I have not given up hope. I have a home to go to - with Sporty there to support me. I can count on food on the table and heat to keep me warm. I have enough shoes for my lifetime (if needed), and I have a scooter to get me around.
So, yesterday, was a bad day. In my life, the letter withdrawing my status as a doctoral student was yet another reminder of how much addiction and it's consequences can destroy lives. Of course, I will keep fighting, but I must have the wisdom to also know when I can change things and when I cannot.
I know, no matter what, this is not an end for me. I am on a journey called life. It may not go exactly as I saw my life as a child, or in my 20's or even just a year ago, but I'm still here. I get to write. I get to help people. As long as I am still able to make a positive contribution to the world, I know I'll be okay. Never give up Hope.
I just read an incredible book by Mitch Abrams. The last sentence was, "I am in love with hope." Being lost is not the end, it's what we find next that can bring us back to a smile, a laugh, and new goals.
Not just here, but throughout the world, there are people so much less fortunate than I (even though most would think my current circumstances grants me "unfortunate" status). In South Africa, I walked through townships filled with shacks (made of scraps and tarps) without electricity or running water, attempting to raise generations of family in one or two rooms. In Vietnam, I met families who could not afford shoes for their children and whose only mode of transportation was a hand built canoe with holes. I've met countless homeless throughout the U.S. and the world. So many can only live day to day, yet they do not give up hope - and neither shall I.
I open with all this because I learned in a letter last night, that my admission to my University, where I have given two years of quality study, research, and work, has officially revoked my admission. This news is devastating to me. It is impossible for people here to understand why my education would cause such feelings - they say things like, "Can't you just go somewhere else?" I truly gave my heart and soul into my PhD program and in return, I was given amazing opportunities and set goals for my future. Having lost two careers due to my addiction and crime associated with it's downfall, as well as family, reputation, community, friends, etc to the devastation of my gambling addiction, going back to school was my opportunity at a second chance. It was a very rigorous application process and my final decision on where to attend was not made lightly. I officially started a new life, moving to a new state, leaving all my friends and family, to attend this school. Now, T.S. and Sporty have joined me. T.S. is a freshman at the University and Sporty moved there to be there for both me and T.S. My home is now with Sporty in that town. My three years of supervision will be there, just a 5 minute drive from my campus, living with Sporty. I'm leaving here at 41 years of ago and it is a LONG process to start over again. I would have to go to a new school, go through the application process, and would now need to reveal that I am a felon. When I went through the last application process, it was years before any of these federal charges. I do not think it likely that another program will accept me after I need to reveal the truth on why I am no longer at my former University.
I am allowed to appeal the decision. I can't even try to do this without a lawyer, which I do not have. They gave me 30 days, and the letter I write would go to the supervisor of Dr. P. in her new position and since she is part of this story, it would be a conflict to go against her wishes. So, this leaves me with a lot of unknowns. What I had hoped was that I was coming home to - my classes, my old job that I loved, health insurance - all that is no more. Thank god for my recovery program and my trust that, somehow, things will work out for me in the end - as long as I keep doing the right next thing. I must release control and concentrate on all I am grateful for.
I am not fighting cancer. I get visitors. I don't have seizures. I don't have to stand in pill line. I will be out of prison in less than 9 months. I will die someday and somewhere outside of prison. I am not mentally ill. I am surrounded by support and love from biological and chosen family. I no longer battle addiction. I can focus on recovery. I have not given up hope. I have a home to go to - with Sporty there to support me. I can count on food on the table and heat to keep me warm. I have enough shoes for my lifetime (if needed), and I have a scooter to get me around.
So, yesterday, was a bad day. In my life, the letter withdrawing my status as a doctoral student was yet another reminder of how much addiction and it's consequences can destroy lives. Of course, I will keep fighting, but I must have the wisdom to also know when I can change things and when I cannot.
I know, no matter what, this is not an end for me. I am on a journey called life. It may not go exactly as I saw my life as a child, or in my 20's or even just a year ago, but I'm still here. I get to write. I get to help people. As long as I am still able to make a positive contribution to the world, I know I'll be okay. Never give up Hope.
I just read an incredible book by Mitch Abrams. The last sentence was, "I am in love with hope." Being lost is not the end, it's what we find next that can bring us back to a smile, a laugh, and new goals.
From Draglonfly: Education
If you walked through the education department in this prison (and probably other prisons), it would not be like most educational facilities. We have 8 "teachers." That is their title. 5 have classrooms and teach when they want. The classrooms are staffed by tutors, who are the primary teachers. The teachers approve the curriculum, the tutors write the lessons and carry out the work. The teachers decide who is ready to test (tabe, pre-test, official GED test), based on the information provided by the tutors. The teachers are out of the department with other duties at least 25% of the time. It is really self-study environment, except that the tutors are there the whole time and also teach some lessons. All the classrooms are different sizes and hold different amounts of students. Students are placed in specific classrooms for specific reasons (don't ask me the reasons - I know one classroom is specifically for people who struggled the most - although, most the students struggle significantly). Some classrooms have three tutors assigned, some just one. Why? Not sure.
The department is constantly making changes, new furniture, new computers, big TVs... but then everything is changed a month later. Not sure why. We have a new education resource center that was put together in September. They are moving it to a new room before the end of the year. We have a computer classroom that has not been used for computer classes the entire time I've been here. Why? Not sure. But, these students need typing and basic computing classes. The GED testing will be 100% computerized come January. Those tests will be in the newly built testing room - which looks nice.
Every so often, like at least 1 time per month, students are told not to come to classes from anywhere of 1 day to 3 days. Last week, students had 1 1/2 days off, this week, 3 days off. The tutors still come to work, which is fine with me. I would go crazy with nothing to do. They don't tell us why we have no students, sometimes we never know what's happening. I do know that, at least sometimes, it is when we are having important visitors to the department (judges, accreditation, etc.). Sometimes, they set up one mock class to be occurring while they do their education walk-through... I guess we need to make it "look good."
In reality, I think our education department does good work. In addition to the GED courses, we have apprenticeships that self-study for their boards 2 afternoons/week. We have inmates apprenticing in many of the traditional blue collar roles. They walk out of here ready for a career. Pretty great. We also have the cosmo department - practicing by doing inmates hair for free. My next appointment, I am getting highlights. Finally, we have our ACE (adult continuing education courses). I'm a huge fan of those. People take 6 weeks in a subject they sign up for. If they complete it, they get a certificate and century points. Century points can actually decrease a person's security level over time. The certificate is good to bring home and show our probation supervisors. Shows we did something productive in prison.
I am currently teaching an ACE course and taking an ACE course. My PSR said that I have to take a personal finance class. So, I am taking it now. It may be information I already know, but I must be able to show that certificate at the end to my probation officer. I am teaching U.S. Government. Tonight is the third class. It is on state and local governments. I try to make my class as interactive as possible. In two weeks, students will sign up for the next 6 week ACE sessions. I will be teaching Essay Writing in that go-round. Many of the ACE classes are not as "academic" in nature. Many are actually video series based. One class right now is watching a variety of National Geographic videos about the rain forest. Another class is learning about "Big Cats." There will be a Jacques Cousteau class in the next session of course. These ACE classes tend to fill and fast... although, the academic courses are not as full as the rain forest type courses.
A lot of women have to take parenting courses as part of their incarceration. We offer those in English and Spanish every 6 week session. They are always filled up completely. The inmates need to show that certification to their probation officer.
I'm glad I am part of the education department. I am treated with respect, most of the time, and I am able to give back to my community. I have great co-tutors and we all work very hard, for little pay - just like teachers on the outside. Students have even brought an apple and placed it on my desk... corny, but shows their appreciation. I can ask nothing more!
The department is constantly making changes, new furniture, new computers, big TVs... but then everything is changed a month later. Not sure why. We have a new education resource center that was put together in September. They are moving it to a new room before the end of the year. We have a computer classroom that has not been used for computer classes the entire time I've been here. Why? Not sure. But, these students need typing and basic computing classes. The GED testing will be 100% computerized come January. Those tests will be in the newly built testing room - which looks nice.
Every so often, like at least 1 time per month, students are told not to come to classes from anywhere of 1 day to 3 days. Last week, students had 1 1/2 days off, this week, 3 days off. The tutors still come to work, which is fine with me. I would go crazy with nothing to do. They don't tell us why we have no students, sometimes we never know what's happening. I do know that, at least sometimes, it is when we are having important visitors to the department (judges, accreditation, etc.). Sometimes, they set up one mock class to be occurring while they do their education walk-through... I guess we need to make it "look good."
In reality, I think our education department does good work. In addition to the GED courses, we have apprenticeships that self-study for their boards 2 afternoons/week. We have inmates apprenticing in many of the traditional blue collar roles. They walk out of here ready for a career. Pretty great. We also have the cosmo department - practicing by doing inmates hair for free. My next appointment, I am getting highlights. Finally, we have our ACE (adult continuing education courses). I'm a huge fan of those. People take 6 weeks in a subject they sign up for. If they complete it, they get a certificate and century points. Century points can actually decrease a person's security level over time. The certificate is good to bring home and show our probation supervisors. Shows we did something productive in prison.
I am currently teaching an ACE course and taking an ACE course. My PSR said that I have to take a personal finance class. So, I am taking it now. It may be information I already know, but I must be able to show that certificate at the end to my probation officer. I am teaching U.S. Government. Tonight is the third class. It is on state and local governments. I try to make my class as interactive as possible. In two weeks, students will sign up for the next 6 week ACE sessions. I will be teaching Essay Writing in that go-round. Many of the ACE classes are not as "academic" in nature. Many are actually video series based. One class right now is watching a variety of National Geographic videos about the rain forest. Another class is learning about "Big Cats." There will be a Jacques Cousteau class in the next session of course. These ACE classes tend to fill and fast... although, the academic courses are not as full as the rain forest type courses.
A lot of women have to take parenting courses as part of their incarceration. We offer those in English and Spanish every 6 week session. They are always filled up completely. The inmates need to show that certification to their probation officer.
I'm glad I am part of the education department. I am treated with respect, most of the time, and I am able to give back to my community. I have great co-tutors and we all work very hard, for little pay - just like teachers on the outside. Students have even brought an apple and placed it on my desk... corny, but shows their appreciation. I can ask nothing more!
From Dragonfly: Beep, Beep, Beep
At least twice per month, the sound of the fire alarm fills our ears in our housing units. It is one of those sounds that stays within your head for hours after the alarm stops. This morning, a Saturday, it was 5:15am when it was going off. I was one of the lucky ones, I was already awake and just exiting the restroom. Most were still fast asleep, others were in the shower. It was cold outside, so I can't imagine having to go out there wet!! I wasn't dressed for the weather, either, shorts, shower shoes (crocs), tshirt and sweatshirt... My legs and face were downright shivering. It takes more than 10 minutes for everyone to exit the towers (housing units not attached to the medical facility). There are almost 1,000 women living in them. Some have to walk down 4 double flights of stairs --- 96 stairs in total. When the alarm is over, they need to walk right back up those same stairs. Others have to be put in their wheel chairs and hope that someone will assist them out of the building (one thing people are good about here, is helping out those in wheelchairs - especially the elderly). I know that it's part of the safety record to do fire drills... and some are during daylight hours, but many are in the middle of the night. To me, that seems like corporal punishment. I'm not sure how often they do the housing units within the medical facility, but since there would be so much dependence on staff (people in hospital beds, etc.), it can't be all that often. Since my job is in the medical facility, I have yet to hear a fire alarm (drill) during the normal work hours in the medical facility.
I couldn't fall back asleep, so I laid in my bed and read using my book light. I am so grateful that I could purchase a book light in the commissary. It is actually decent quality and I use it every night. Last night I didn't use it much, because I went to sleep just after dinner (around 6 pm). I woke for count (which was late at 10pm) and then again just before this morning's fire drill. Guess I needed my sleep. Acquaintances, here, say that I seem a lot more tired these days, but I know that's normal with my physical condition. I took a lot of naps in the last year, and here, I don't get naps.
I am very grateful to many friends on the outside who decided to give me subscriptions to magazines. They are the perfect read for waiting in the clinic lobby, resting, and more! I recently received my first copies of "Reader's Digest," "National Geographic," and "People." I read them all cover to cover. They remind me of life outside of these walls! I highly recommend magazine subscriptions for anyone going to prison!
I couldn't fall back asleep, so I laid in my bed and read using my book light. I am so grateful that I could purchase a book light in the commissary. It is actually decent quality and I use it every night. Last night I didn't use it much, because I went to sleep just after dinner (around 6 pm). I woke for count (which was late at 10pm) and then again just before this morning's fire drill. Guess I needed my sleep. Acquaintances, here, say that I seem a lot more tired these days, but I know that's normal with my physical condition. I took a lot of naps in the last year, and here, I don't get naps.
I am very grateful to many friends on the outside who decided to give me subscriptions to magazines. They are the perfect read for waiting in the clinic lobby, resting, and more! I recently received my first copies of "Reader's Digest," "National Geographic," and "People." I read them all cover to cover. They remind me of life outside of these walls! I highly recommend magazine subscriptions for anyone going to prison!
Friday, November 1, 2013
From Dragonfly: Names
Many books/shows state that all inmates go by their last names in prison. This is certainly true when we interact with staff of the prison. Most just refer to us without any salutation. If my last name was Smith, I would be "Smith" when they need anything. In education, they add a little respect, and would refer to us with a salutation, "Ms. Smith." A good number of the staff can't pronounce our last names correctly, and they don't like to be corrected, so we just have to get used to being called by the wrong last name. If we don't respond, it is on us, not them.
Inmates, here, tend to refer to each other by first names. I wasn't anticipating that. The only people I hear inmates calling by last name, are those much older, and the salutation is added, "Ms. Thompson." Other than that, everyone just goes by their first name. I think it may be different in other prisons, but that's the way it is here.
There are also many nicknames, including the family relationships I wrote about before coming to prison. There are many, many women here in "family" relationships - calling each other, "sister," "mother," "daughter," and "daddy," among other names. These are not people related to one another, it is merely a family structure they put together while being incarcerated. They may eat meals together, help each other out with commissary, and protect one another. Some are in relationships that go beyond that, many are not.
There is one exception to the above paragraph, there is a mother and daughter in my unit who are actually mother and daughter. They just recently transferred the daughter to our unit. Her mom has been here for several months, but the daughter was still being sentenced. When sentenced, the judge actually said that daughter and mother should be at the same institution. The daughter is very early 20's, and the mother can keep an eye on her. They both have 10 or so years to do. I was very surprised that not only the judge wanted them at the same institution, but that the DOP actually followed through on that recommendation. I am glad that they can maintain their loving relationship - especially with so much time to do. It's funny to hear the two of them squabble like normal mother/daughter relationships.
There are at least six women in my unit who share my first name. One woman has a girlfriend who screams our name all the time to get her attention from upstairs. I can't help but turn around every time, knowing full well that no one screams my name in the unit (my acquaintances tend to be a little more respectful of everyone). I considered a nickname, but I just went back to my name 5 years ago, after going more than a decade with a nickname. I don't need to get started with another nickname. I guess it would be easier if everyone just called me by my last name - I am the only one here with it - but then it would be like I was playing on a sports team. That's the last time in my life where people all referred to me by my last name.
I was glad that no one gave me their own "nickname" upon my arrival. There are a couple people who call me "genius," which I am not, but for some reason, since they think I'm 20-something, and I know more than a 20-something person should know (I'm 40 after all), it's just a nickname of assumptions that are not true. Plus, there are the students who call me "Ms. Tutor." I don't mind that name. It's the way that they see me.
Names are really important to people and their identities. My identity is not necessarily attached to my name, as I share my full name with someone who is famous, has published under the name, and even owns a URL under my name. If people don't know me, they actually think I could be her. I've often thought about changing my name, even if just my last name, which I may still do, so I am no longer confused with this other more-famous woman (whose politics are very different than my own). Perhaps marriage will one day change my last name, or I will just use Dragonfly Hazel for a while. Although, I may seem a bit flighty with the name Dragonfly. It's a good pen name and I love that so many appreciate my writing. I think what I do in my life and for others is much more important than the name I am known by.
Inmates, here, tend to refer to each other by first names. I wasn't anticipating that. The only people I hear inmates calling by last name, are those much older, and the salutation is added, "Ms. Thompson." Other than that, everyone just goes by their first name. I think it may be different in other prisons, but that's the way it is here.
There are also many nicknames, including the family relationships I wrote about before coming to prison. There are many, many women here in "family" relationships - calling each other, "sister," "mother," "daughter," and "daddy," among other names. These are not people related to one another, it is merely a family structure they put together while being incarcerated. They may eat meals together, help each other out with commissary, and protect one another. Some are in relationships that go beyond that, many are not.
There is one exception to the above paragraph, there is a mother and daughter in my unit who are actually mother and daughter. They just recently transferred the daughter to our unit. Her mom has been here for several months, but the daughter was still being sentenced. When sentenced, the judge actually said that daughter and mother should be at the same institution. The daughter is very early 20's, and the mother can keep an eye on her. They both have 10 or so years to do. I was very surprised that not only the judge wanted them at the same institution, but that the DOP actually followed through on that recommendation. I am glad that they can maintain their loving relationship - especially with so much time to do. It's funny to hear the two of them squabble like normal mother/daughter relationships.
There are at least six women in my unit who share my first name. One woman has a girlfriend who screams our name all the time to get her attention from upstairs. I can't help but turn around every time, knowing full well that no one screams my name in the unit (my acquaintances tend to be a little more respectful of everyone). I considered a nickname, but I just went back to my name 5 years ago, after going more than a decade with a nickname. I don't need to get started with another nickname. I guess it would be easier if everyone just called me by my last name - I am the only one here with it - but then it would be like I was playing on a sports team. That's the last time in my life where people all referred to me by my last name.
I was glad that no one gave me their own "nickname" upon my arrival. There are a couple people who call me "genius," which I am not, but for some reason, since they think I'm 20-something, and I know more than a 20-something person should know (I'm 40 after all), it's just a nickname of assumptions that are not true. Plus, there are the students who call me "Ms. Tutor." I don't mind that name. It's the way that they see me.
Names are really important to people and their identities. My identity is not necessarily attached to my name, as I share my full name with someone who is famous, has published under the name, and even owns a URL under my name. If people don't know me, they actually think I could be her. I've often thought about changing my name, even if just my last name, which I may still do, so I am no longer confused with this other more-famous woman (whose politics are very different than my own). Perhaps marriage will one day change my last name, or I will just use Dragonfly Hazel for a while. Although, I may seem a bit flighty with the name Dragonfly. It's a good pen name and I love that so many appreciate my writing. I think what I do in my life and for others is much more important than the name I am known by.
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