I haven't had a chance to update Jeff's blog recently. He did send me a quarterly update, which is now about 2 months old. I'm going to add some things that have changed for Jeff over the past couple of months.
First, Jeff left his out crew. The out crew served its purpose of allowing Jeff to apply for and receive a furlough. He gets to leave the camp for 48 hours on Dec. 20. He will spend the two days with his wife and kids. He is really looking forward to that. His new job is back at the camp. He has described it as a clerical job and he monitors safety at the camp. I'm not exactly sure what he does, except that he has to inspect doors, fire extinguishers, etc. to make sure that they are working and not a fire hazard for the inmates. He says that the prison guards are pretty disorganized, and he ends up repeating inspections and wasting a lot of time. I've found this to be a regular grip from him about the prison. It seems that efficiency and common sense disappear there. In my opinion, from reading my brother's letters and some other books written by prisoner and ex-prisoners, it seems that some guards use their positions of authority to belittle and condescend to the prisoners, even when the prisoners make good sense. But, that happens at my job at times, except the guards are middle level managers.
Jeff is also taking some computer courses in excel and word. I would have thought these would be a waste of time for him, but he says it's amazing what you forget when you haven't used excel in over a year. He's learning to use the keyboard again as well. He really enjoys working on the computer. It makes him feel like he's in the 21st century. If you recall, the prisoners aren't able to access email, and the Internet So, just getting to use a computer is a nice bonus for Jeff.
In other news, Jeff was assigned to his pre-release halfway house in Salinas. He won't be able to report to the house until July 21, 2009, but this was an answer to prayer because the other options were Oakland and San Fran. Salinas is a small halfway house, but its close to his home and he can begin to find work right away and we hope get on home confinement after a month or so for the duration of his sentence (which ends next Nov. 21).
That's the last news, Jeff is in his final year. He endured his last Thanksgiving on the inside, and this will be the last year that he misses his son's birthday and Christmas. So, I was thankful for that this Thanksgiving.
Scott
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Musings (#47)
Not much changes from day to day in a prison camp except for the people. Unlike most federal prisons, a prison camp has high turnover. People come in for a few months and then they are gone. Those of us who have a longer stay at camp just continue on with our routine. Sometimes a new guy will fit in somewhere; sometimes they won’t. At the beginning of my time I thought I would try to meet all the new guys that came in. I was baffled by the long-timers who later told me they don’t talk to anybody with a 6 month or less sentence. I now know why they do that.
Surprisingly I actually have a very busy schedule. Because I leave the prison camp everyday, my contact with other inmates is limited. When I’m at the camp I try to follow a schedule of exercise and classes. After a while you realize that inmates with short sentences don’t cross your path. I don’t have the time to seek out all the new inmates and get to know them. Rather, I let the prison routine do that. I still meet new inmates. I might sit with one at a meal or meet one in soccer or in a bible study. It’s convenient to meet a new guy in an activity in which you are involved. The activity you have in common has reduced a barrier. It’s easier to approach a guy and get to know him when you can talk about soccer or the bible study topic.
Sometimes you meet a new guy and you know something isn’t quite right. This happens most often with people who have different values than you. On a rare occasion you will talk to someone who is not mentally stable. This happened to my friend and me the other day at breakfast. We sat down with a new guy (it’s obvious who the new guys are because they have on blue canvas shoes and usually poorly fitting shirt and pants) and my friend starting asking harmless, normal questions. Where did you transfer from, where do you live, etc. Normal stuff that all of us have been asked. Oddly, this guy didn’t answer the questions. He started talking, but it was as if the question was simply a signal for him to start talking. When he left my friend looked at me and said exactly what I was thinking, “that was weird.”
Later I heard that this same guy got into some trouble. Apparently he went into one of the Spanish television rooms and changed the channels while several of the Latino guys were watching a program. First, just changing the channel in a tv room is a risky proposition, and second, this guy is Caucasian. (see previous blog for a discussion of the various tv rooms). This is about the worst non-verbal insult you can make at a prison camp. Normally a camp has very little tension or aggressive behavior, but this was a situation where things could have escalated. I think more fights start over what is on television than any other reason. I wasn’t surprised to hear about this guy doing something social inept. He clearly wasn’t operating by conventional social standards of those in prison.
One thing that remains is the assignment of nicknames to newcomers. (Jeff wrote about nicknames in a prior blog as well). Of course, you need to have a lengthy sentence to get a legitimate nickname, otherwise the catch-all nickname is “short-timer.” A favorite, but uncreative nickname is to call yourself by the name of the city or country from which you came. A few examples I have seen here are: Vegas, Fresno, Panama, and Columbia. I suppose those work. What you don’t want is a derogatory nickname based on something you do or say. My dad has a bunkie that we call “Santa Claus” or “Crazy Santa.” He looks like Santa Claus and sometimes he says and does some odd things. Mydad has yet to be given a nickname. That’s probably good. It means he’s keeping a low profile.
On occasion our commissary or store will change the items they sell. This isn’t always a good thing. Recently they changed the coffee. We now get less coffee with a 35% increase in price. The cookie/snack section changes the most frequently. Recently, they added a generic oreo cookie as well as a generic ho ho. The “swiss rolls,” as they are named, are very popular. I bought a box containing 12 rolls. Within 48 hours they were gone. Needless to say, I cannot afford a habit like that.
Another interesting change to the store list was the addition of rayon basketball shorts. I really like these shorts. I would never buy these in the real world, but for prison, they are ideal for running and sports. Sometimes the changes in what they sell can make you feel a little like you do at Christmas. I was very excited to get these shorts. They have proven to be a good purchase.
Jeff
Surprisingly I actually have a very busy schedule. Because I leave the prison camp everyday, my contact with other inmates is limited. When I’m at the camp I try to follow a schedule of exercise and classes. After a while you realize that inmates with short sentences don’t cross your path. I don’t have the time to seek out all the new inmates and get to know them. Rather, I let the prison routine do that. I still meet new inmates. I might sit with one at a meal or meet one in soccer or in a bible study. It’s convenient to meet a new guy in an activity in which you are involved. The activity you have in common has reduced a barrier. It’s easier to approach a guy and get to know him when you can talk about soccer or the bible study topic.
Sometimes you meet a new guy and you know something isn’t quite right. This happens most often with people who have different values than you. On a rare occasion you will talk to someone who is not mentally stable. This happened to my friend and me the other day at breakfast. We sat down with a new guy (it’s obvious who the new guys are because they have on blue canvas shoes and usually poorly fitting shirt and pants) and my friend starting asking harmless, normal questions. Where did you transfer from, where do you live, etc. Normal stuff that all of us have been asked. Oddly, this guy didn’t answer the questions. He started talking, but it was as if the question was simply a signal for him to start talking. When he left my friend looked at me and said exactly what I was thinking, “that was weird.”
Later I heard that this same guy got into some trouble. Apparently he went into one of the Spanish television rooms and changed the channels while several of the Latino guys were watching a program. First, just changing the channel in a tv room is a risky proposition, and second, this guy is Caucasian. (see previous blog for a discussion of the various tv rooms). This is about the worst non-verbal insult you can make at a prison camp. Normally a camp has very little tension or aggressive behavior, but this was a situation where things could have escalated. I think more fights start over what is on television than any other reason. I wasn’t surprised to hear about this guy doing something social inept. He clearly wasn’t operating by conventional social standards of those in prison.
One thing that remains is the assignment of nicknames to newcomers. (Jeff wrote about nicknames in a prior blog as well). Of course, you need to have a lengthy sentence to get a legitimate nickname, otherwise the catch-all nickname is “short-timer.” A favorite, but uncreative nickname is to call yourself by the name of the city or country from which you came. A few examples I have seen here are: Vegas, Fresno, Panama, and Columbia. I suppose those work. What you don’t want is a derogatory nickname based on something you do or say. My dad has a bunkie that we call “Santa Claus” or “Crazy Santa.” He looks like Santa Claus and sometimes he says and does some odd things. Mydad has yet to be given a nickname. That’s probably good. It means he’s keeping a low profile.
On occasion our commissary or store will change the items they sell. This isn’t always a good thing. Recently they changed the coffee. We now get less coffee with a 35% increase in price. The cookie/snack section changes the most frequently. Recently, they added a generic oreo cookie as well as a generic ho ho. The “swiss rolls,” as they are named, are very popular. I bought a box containing 12 rolls. Within 48 hours they were gone. Needless to say, I cannot afford a habit like that.
Another interesting change to the store list was the addition of rayon basketball shorts. I really like these shorts. I would never buy these in the real world, but for prison, they are ideal for running and sports. Sometimes the changes in what they sell can make you feel a little like you do at Christmas. I was very excited to get these shorts. They have proven to be a good purchase.
Jeff
Outside Soccer (#46)
I recently played in a soccer game against a team from outside of the camp. The team was from the Taft Jr. college, and they traveled to our camp to play a game against several of the inmates. This is similar to the movie “The Longest Yard” where the inmates play the guards in football. In the case of the soccer game, the outside team did not have any guards or any staff members that I know of. However, in some other outside games, the guards have played against the inmates on the outside team. The soccer game was the 4th such outside game played at the camp in the past 14 months I’ve been here. The three previous games were basketball, softball, and a second basketball game.
These outside (outside in this context means “not in prison, as “inside” means incarcerated among the inmates) games are very popular events. Generally, an outside team playing a compound team will draw at least half of the inmates as spectators. Part of this is just plain boredom, and the games are something a bit out of the ordinary. But, part of it is also a sense of pride in the inmates. To compete and do well against and outside team gives the inmates, in my opinion, a sense of pride and accomplishment, and acceptance into regular society. I think it makes the inmates feel human a bit, as the camp, and much more so in higher security levels, tend to make one feel inhuman. The game speaks for the inmates saying, “we can do what you do. We aren’t different from you.” That feeling, although not frequently expressed verbally by individual inmates, is expressed collectively when the compound performs well against the outside team.
For me personally, this soccer game ranked in the top 10 games in attendance in which I have played. There were probably 250 people watching this game, about half of the camp. Ironically, this game ranked in the bottom 10 of any soccer game I’ve played as far as importance in my life. It was a bit strange to have so many people care about a soccer game that, to me, had little to no significance in my life. That does not mean I didn’t care about the game. I always want to play well and do my best, but the outcome meant nothing. I wouldn’t get a trophy or a scholarship offer or paid for playing. It was equivalent to an intramural game in college in terms of importance in my life.
If you had asked me 2 months before the game, I would have told you I had no interest in being on the team at all. I was in the middle of the camp soccer league and genuinely hating it. I didn’t want to play soccer at the camp anymore with the people there. I was constantly criticized for my play and attitude. I had nothing to prove, and was playing injured almost every game. I’m a white guy with a long soccer resume playing in a predominantly Hispanic sport in prison. I was going to decline an invitation to play, but when the best player asked me personally to play, I decided to do it. I thought that my best approach would be to keep my mouth shut and do whatever was asked of me. That’s hard for me to do. Over the next month an a half of training, I did my best to encourage others and not get frustrated. Unfortunately, I couldn’t maintain that self control all of the time.
My frustration surfaced during the game. I did not realize that we would be playing 20 year-olds. These guys could run and run. The average age of our team was probably 30 or so, and the starters’ age was higher than that. It became evident after 30 minutes that we weren’t going to be able to keep pace. I cam down with a cold a day or two before the game and got hit hard with the cold on the day of the game. What stamina I had seemed to disappear. Being constantly exhausted makes one’s play deteriorate. That’s when I got frustrated. I was mostly frustrated with myself, but on occasion that frustration spilled over to my teammates, and that’s not good. For any of the guys who played in that game, I apologize.
The game ended in a loss for my inmate team. I think part of the problem was our coach and best player got injured about 20 minutes into the game. We were up 1-0 at that point. I believe we were the more skilled team, but the loss of our coach got us out of rhythm. The other team had some good players, but I think their biggest strength was their stamina. We ended up losing 5-2. It was difficult to keep up with the constant running.
I enjoyed the experience much more than I thought going into it. I enjoyed playing with the team and for the first time in a long time I experienced some good competition. I had given up competitive soccer in return for the much less stressful recreational soccer. This was the first time in about 10 years that I played with a “select team” against another “select team.” That experience was fun and I would be honored to be selected again.
In case you were wondering, the inmate basketball team lost both of its games, but the inmate softball team destroyed the outside team.
Scott’s addition. Jeff sent this blog to me in early June and I misplaced it. It was attached to a letter he sent to me, and I had forgotten that he attached it. He usually sends blogs separately. At any rate, he has since been selected to play against the same outside team in early Sept., and this time the inmates won 7-3. Jeff played about half of the game, to see his team go up 5-1. He was suffering from an abdominal strain and was having difficulty running and moving without pain. But, he wanted to show that he could be encouraging to his teammates. Unfortunately, he is still hurting from the game as his abdomen didn’t get any better.
Jeff
These outside (outside in this context means “not in prison, as “inside” means incarcerated among the inmates) games are very popular events. Generally, an outside team playing a compound team will draw at least half of the inmates as spectators. Part of this is just plain boredom, and the games are something a bit out of the ordinary. But, part of it is also a sense of pride in the inmates. To compete and do well against and outside team gives the inmates, in my opinion, a sense of pride and accomplishment, and acceptance into regular society. I think it makes the inmates feel human a bit, as the camp, and much more so in higher security levels, tend to make one feel inhuman. The game speaks for the inmates saying, “we can do what you do. We aren’t different from you.” That feeling, although not frequently expressed verbally by individual inmates, is expressed collectively when the compound performs well against the outside team.
For me personally, this soccer game ranked in the top 10 games in attendance in which I have played. There were probably 250 people watching this game, about half of the camp. Ironically, this game ranked in the bottom 10 of any soccer game I’ve played as far as importance in my life. It was a bit strange to have so many people care about a soccer game that, to me, had little to no significance in my life. That does not mean I didn’t care about the game. I always want to play well and do my best, but the outcome meant nothing. I wouldn’t get a trophy or a scholarship offer or paid for playing. It was equivalent to an intramural game in college in terms of importance in my life.
If you had asked me 2 months before the game, I would have told you I had no interest in being on the team at all. I was in the middle of the camp soccer league and genuinely hating it. I didn’t want to play soccer at the camp anymore with the people there. I was constantly criticized for my play and attitude. I had nothing to prove, and was playing injured almost every game. I’m a white guy with a long soccer resume playing in a predominantly Hispanic sport in prison. I was going to decline an invitation to play, but when the best player asked me personally to play, I decided to do it. I thought that my best approach would be to keep my mouth shut and do whatever was asked of me. That’s hard for me to do. Over the next month an a half of training, I did my best to encourage others and not get frustrated. Unfortunately, I couldn’t maintain that self control all of the time.
My frustration surfaced during the game. I did not realize that we would be playing 20 year-olds. These guys could run and run. The average age of our team was probably 30 or so, and the starters’ age was higher than that. It became evident after 30 minutes that we weren’t going to be able to keep pace. I cam down with a cold a day or two before the game and got hit hard with the cold on the day of the game. What stamina I had seemed to disappear. Being constantly exhausted makes one’s play deteriorate. That’s when I got frustrated. I was mostly frustrated with myself, but on occasion that frustration spilled over to my teammates, and that’s not good. For any of the guys who played in that game, I apologize.
The game ended in a loss for my inmate team. I think part of the problem was our coach and best player got injured about 20 minutes into the game. We were up 1-0 at that point. I believe we were the more skilled team, but the loss of our coach got us out of rhythm. The other team had some good players, but I think their biggest strength was their stamina. We ended up losing 5-2. It was difficult to keep up with the constant running.
I enjoyed the experience much more than I thought going into it. I enjoyed playing with the team and for the first time in a long time I experienced some good competition. I had given up competitive soccer in return for the much less stressful recreational soccer. This was the first time in about 10 years that I played with a “select team” against another “select team.” That experience was fun and I would be honored to be selected again.
In case you were wondering, the inmate basketball team lost both of its games, but the inmate softball team destroyed the outside team.
Scott’s addition. Jeff sent this blog to me in early June and I misplaced it. It was attached to a letter he sent to me, and I had forgotten that he attached it. He usually sends blogs separately. At any rate, he has since been selected to play against the same outside team in early Sept., and this time the inmates won 7-3. Jeff played about half of the game, to see his team go up 5-1. He was suffering from an abdominal strain and was having difficulty running and moving without pain. But, he wanted to show that he could be encouraging to his teammates. Unfortunately, he is still hurting from the game as his abdomen didn’t get any better.
Jeff
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Spoons (#45)
I recently had a “remember you are in prison” experience. I thought it was worth sharing. This past weekend I got up at 6 am to go to breakfast. One thing about prison that is as close to constant and reliable as you can get is the menu. Every Saturday morning we have corn flakes and coffee cake. If we ever get a different cereal, I am ecstatic. On occasion we do, but that is not the point of this blog. I digress.
The chow hall is also somewhat consistent in terms of what to expect and the procedures for getting food and eating. The chow hall is very similar to a cafeteria. It reminds me of the chow halls in college. Meals are served at certain times of the day. You almost always stand in a line for 15 minutes. When you get to the serving counter you get your tray and plastic wear. The servers are assigned 1 item and put it on your tray. At the end of the line you take a cup and fill it with your beverage. Even the choice of beverage is consistent meal to meal.
On Saturday morning there was a change in the chow hall routine. At the point where we get our plastic wear, we only had spoons. Typically, there are two rows of utensils with forks on the top row and spoons on the bottom. However, the utensils are placed in the dispensers with only the handle showing, so you do not see whether the utensil you are grabbing is a fork or spoon until you pick it out. You go by routine. Spoons on top, forks on bottom. It’s generally not an issue, unless you our out of a certain utensil. On Saturday morning, the fork row was empty. We only had a choice of spoons. I didn’t think a whole lot about it other than it was weird eating coffee cake with a spoon.
At lunch when I arrived at the utensil dispenser there were the two rows of utensils. Naturally, I thought that the forks would be on top and the spoons on the bottom. To my surprise, both rows were spoons. I couldn’t put the spoon back; that’s a prison rule. Once you touch a tray or a utensil, it’s yours. So, I had two spoons at lunch.
A few seconds after grabbing my second spoon, the guard that overseas the kitchen (yes, there is a guard for this – because the kitchen is a great place to steal food and spices to trade) tell another inmate that he only needed one spoon. As I grabbed my cup and passed the guard she told me, “you don’t need two spoons.” I tried to explain the situation. “Yes, but I had already touched the second spoon. I couldn’t put it back after I had touched it.” That seemed to hit a nerve with her. She got angry and retorted, “What? You think I don’t know that?” I replied meekly, “No, I was simply saying that I had no choice once I took that second spoon. There was nothing I could do.” (Inmates often complain about the dehumanizing aspect of prison. When dealing with guards who neither care to learn the facts, or treat the inmates as beneath them, I’m not amazed to hear about inmate violence at higher security prisons).
That evening at dinner I didn’t take any chances. I only took a spoon. By that time the rumor had spread that we weren’t’ given forks because inmates were either stealing them, or throwing them away. The same guard that lectured me about my excessive spoon issue at lunch was back at dinner. I overheard another inmate ask her when we would get forks back. She replied, “You can buy forks at the commissary,” as if to imply that we should buy them and bring in our own forks if we want to use such a utensil. This was odd because it’s against policy for an inmate to bring anything to a meal except one condiment. We are not allowed to bring our own cups to the chow hall. It’s always humorous (frustratingly so) when a guard tells you to do something that is against policy. Needless to say it was difficult to eat my salad and chicken patty with a spoon. I was late for my softball game because of it.
Epilogue: On Monday morning we had forks again. I have not seen the fork Nazi guard, but she will be back this weekend. We might be deprived of forks for all of our weekend meals.
Other interesting things:
For those of you who don’t know, we get counted, literally, physically counted by the guards, multiple times each day. The two main counts, also called standing counts because we have to stand, and several counts during the middle of the night. I don’t understand these. We can’t go outside because the door is locked. Why bother counting? Anyway, the other day a guard announces over the camp PA system to put our chairs in our cubicles. The guards were going to count our chairs. Oddly our chairs have to be in our cubes on Fri. morning as it is at the 8 am weekly inspection. Why not count the chairs then? Oh well, that’s someone else’s problem.
Jeff
The chow hall is also somewhat consistent in terms of what to expect and the procedures for getting food and eating. The chow hall is very similar to a cafeteria. It reminds me of the chow halls in college. Meals are served at certain times of the day. You almost always stand in a line for 15 minutes. When you get to the serving counter you get your tray and plastic wear. The servers are assigned 1 item and put it on your tray. At the end of the line you take a cup and fill it with your beverage. Even the choice of beverage is consistent meal to meal.
On Saturday morning there was a change in the chow hall routine. At the point where we get our plastic wear, we only had spoons. Typically, there are two rows of utensils with forks on the top row and spoons on the bottom. However, the utensils are placed in the dispensers with only the handle showing, so you do not see whether the utensil you are grabbing is a fork or spoon until you pick it out. You go by routine. Spoons on top, forks on bottom. It’s generally not an issue, unless you our out of a certain utensil. On Saturday morning, the fork row was empty. We only had a choice of spoons. I didn’t think a whole lot about it other than it was weird eating coffee cake with a spoon.
At lunch when I arrived at the utensil dispenser there were the two rows of utensils. Naturally, I thought that the forks would be on top and the spoons on the bottom. To my surprise, both rows were spoons. I couldn’t put the spoon back; that’s a prison rule. Once you touch a tray or a utensil, it’s yours. So, I had two spoons at lunch.
A few seconds after grabbing my second spoon, the guard that overseas the kitchen (yes, there is a guard for this – because the kitchen is a great place to steal food and spices to trade) tell another inmate that he only needed one spoon. As I grabbed my cup and passed the guard she told me, “you don’t need two spoons.” I tried to explain the situation. “Yes, but I had already touched the second spoon. I couldn’t put it back after I had touched it.” That seemed to hit a nerve with her. She got angry and retorted, “What? You think I don’t know that?” I replied meekly, “No, I was simply saying that I had no choice once I took that second spoon. There was nothing I could do.” (Inmates often complain about the dehumanizing aspect of prison. When dealing with guards who neither care to learn the facts, or treat the inmates as beneath them, I’m not amazed to hear about inmate violence at higher security prisons).
That evening at dinner I didn’t take any chances. I only took a spoon. By that time the rumor had spread that we weren’t’ given forks because inmates were either stealing them, or throwing them away. The same guard that lectured me about my excessive spoon issue at lunch was back at dinner. I overheard another inmate ask her when we would get forks back. She replied, “You can buy forks at the commissary,” as if to imply that we should buy them and bring in our own forks if we want to use such a utensil. This was odd because it’s against policy for an inmate to bring anything to a meal except one condiment. We are not allowed to bring our own cups to the chow hall. It’s always humorous (frustratingly so) when a guard tells you to do something that is against policy. Needless to say it was difficult to eat my salad and chicken patty with a spoon. I was late for my softball game because of it.
Epilogue: On Monday morning we had forks again. I have not seen the fork Nazi guard, but she will be back this weekend. We might be deprived of forks for all of our weekend meals.
Other interesting things:
For those of you who don’t know, we get counted, literally, physically counted by the guards, multiple times each day. The two main counts, also called standing counts because we have to stand, and several counts during the middle of the night. I don’t understand these. We can’t go outside because the door is locked. Why bother counting? Anyway, the other day a guard announces over the camp PA system to put our chairs in our cubicles. The guards were going to count our chairs. Oddly our chairs have to be in our cubes on Fri. morning as it is at the 8 am weekly inspection. Why not count the chairs then? Oh well, that’s someone else’s problem.
Jeff
Quarterly Update Summer '08 (#44)
Sorry it has taken me so long to update the blog. Just a busy summer. Here is Jeff's quarterly update from July.
I’ve been at Taft Camp for 15 months now. I’ve actually managed to settle in and the days are much easier. At a camp this is called “institutionalized.” I watch whatever movie we get every Friday at 7 pm just because it’s something to do. I’ve figured out what to buy at the store and I even joined a b-league softball league. Most of the activities in which I participate I would not do in my ordinary life outside of prison. For example, I would never play softball. Most of the movies I watch I would never rent much less pay full price to see in a theater. Most of the books I read I would not be able to read because of a lack of time if I were at home. But, these are the ways to pass time here. I have gotten to a point where I actually look forward to the Friday night movie. When I first arrived, I probably watched 4 movies in the first 4 months. There are some weekends where I watch 4 movies.
One of the toughest things that I have had to do over the past 3 months is adjusting to the psychological impact of the completion of my 1st year here. When you start to see the same activities, repeat weather patterns, seasons, and holidays, it’s a challenge to stay focused. I admire the guys who have to do several years here. The redundancy of it would drive me a little crazy. I understand why I play softball when those who know me wonder what I’m doing. It’s new and different to me, and that keeps me a bit more sane. That’s how guys with long sentences avoid the depressing repetition of it all. They play cards, watch tv, play sports, take classes, and do whatever they can to provide some variety.
One of the more interesting things from my time here happened to me last quarter. A guy who was sentenced to 20 months researched prison camps on the web. He came across my blog. It turned out that he was designated for Taft and he contacted me. He arrived at Taft earlier this month (July) and I’ve spent a lot of time with him. It was an encouraging experience for me to realize that this blog is helping other people. I’ve enjoyed talking with this guy (I don’t want to use his name because I haven’t told him I would use his name) and I look forward to developing a stronger friendship as we progress through this time together. I had been struggling with how God is using me here, but I believe God is teaching me not to look for results, but to just remain obedient and focused on Him.
My wife and I both turned 36 earlier this month (Laura on the 4th and Jeff on the 9th of July). This was a difficult time for both of us because our birthdays are close together. We usually go on vacation for our birthdays. I look back at my last birthday and realize how thankful I should be. My wife and I have both matured in our faith during the past year. My wife sees opportunities to use this struggle for God’s glory almost every day. She leads a women’s support group for those who have loved ones in prison. She also facilitates a bible study and hosts a small group at our home. She is constantly sharing with neighbors and friends of her struggle and here endurance through Jesus Christ. I must say I’m very proud of my wife.
On the lighter side of things, the commissary, or prison store, is selling Dr. Pepper again. It will only last for another month, so I buy a lot and try to save it. The store is also selling generic cocoa puffs. I love cocoa puffs. To put this in perspective, I have to work for 6 days to afford a six-pack of Dr. Pepper and a bag of cocoa puffs. In the “real” world, I worked 10 minutes to buy those same items. Buying a 6-pack of Dr. Pepper and a bag of cocoa puffs is like buying a flat screen television for many of you. In other words, it’s a pretty big purchase and big deal here.
In closing, I’m enjoying my new cube with my new bunking. My cube has a window and my bunkie makes me laugh. It has been much easier doing my time in this cube. That’s it for now.
Jeff
I’ve been at Taft Camp for 15 months now. I’ve actually managed to settle in and the days are much easier. At a camp this is called “institutionalized.” I watch whatever movie we get every Friday at 7 pm just because it’s something to do. I’ve figured out what to buy at the store and I even joined a b-league softball league. Most of the activities in which I participate I would not do in my ordinary life outside of prison. For example, I would never play softball. Most of the movies I watch I would never rent much less pay full price to see in a theater. Most of the books I read I would not be able to read because of a lack of time if I were at home. But, these are the ways to pass time here. I have gotten to a point where I actually look forward to the Friday night movie. When I first arrived, I probably watched 4 movies in the first 4 months. There are some weekends where I watch 4 movies.
One of the toughest things that I have had to do over the past 3 months is adjusting to the psychological impact of the completion of my 1st year here. When you start to see the same activities, repeat weather patterns, seasons, and holidays, it’s a challenge to stay focused. I admire the guys who have to do several years here. The redundancy of it would drive me a little crazy. I understand why I play softball when those who know me wonder what I’m doing. It’s new and different to me, and that keeps me a bit more sane. That’s how guys with long sentences avoid the depressing repetition of it all. They play cards, watch tv, play sports, take classes, and do whatever they can to provide some variety.
One of the more interesting things from my time here happened to me last quarter. A guy who was sentenced to 20 months researched prison camps on the web. He came across my blog. It turned out that he was designated for Taft and he contacted me. He arrived at Taft earlier this month (July) and I’ve spent a lot of time with him. It was an encouraging experience for me to realize that this blog is helping other people. I’ve enjoyed talking with this guy (I don’t want to use his name because I haven’t told him I would use his name) and I look forward to developing a stronger friendship as we progress through this time together. I had been struggling with how God is using me here, but I believe God is teaching me not to look for results, but to just remain obedient and focused on Him.
My wife and I both turned 36 earlier this month (Laura on the 4th and Jeff on the 9th of July). This was a difficult time for both of us because our birthdays are close together. We usually go on vacation for our birthdays. I look back at my last birthday and realize how thankful I should be. My wife and I have both matured in our faith during the past year. My wife sees opportunities to use this struggle for God’s glory almost every day. She leads a women’s support group for those who have loved ones in prison. She also facilitates a bible study and hosts a small group at our home. She is constantly sharing with neighbors and friends of her struggle and here endurance through Jesus Christ. I must say I’m very proud of my wife.
On the lighter side of things, the commissary, or prison store, is selling Dr. Pepper again. It will only last for another month, so I buy a lot and try to save it. The store is also selling generic cocoa puffs. I love cocoa puffs. To put this in perspective, I have to work for 6 days to afford a six-pack of Dr. Pepper and a bag of cocoa puffs. In the “real” world, I worked 10 minutes to buy those same items. Buying a 6-pack of Dr. Pepper and a bag of cocoa puffs is like buying a flat screen television for many of you. In other words, it’s a pretty big purchase and big deal here.
In closing, I’m enjoying my new cube with my new bunking. My cube has a window and my bunkie makes me laugh. It has been much easier doing my time in this cube. That’s it for now.
Jeff
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Know Who You Work For (#43)
The first question I was asked when I started my job as the recreation clerk was, “Who do you work for?” I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn’t thought about it. The other inmate asking the question, seeing the confusion on my face, rephrased, “Do you work for us, or do you work for the guards.” Well, not sane inmate says that they work for the guards. That would not go over well. His question helped me figure some things out.
I had not thought about who I worked for when I watered the plants at my first job here. Another inmate seemed to be my supervisor, but he didn’t like for me to call him that. His only job was to assign inmates to jobs, not to oversee them. That job actually belonged to a guard. It seemed that I worked for both the inmates and the guards and didn’t work for them at the same time. The guards, or at least the institution, paid me. It was only $.12 an hour, but they did pay me. At the same time the inmates were like the customers. They received the benefits of the work. Most inmates could care less about how their job benefits the other inmates. I guess the reality is we worked for ourselves.
Working for yourself is dangerous. You will only work as hard as your ethics and ambition take you. Because there is little reward for an ambitious person in prison, many inmates do the very least they can. I would suggest if this is where you are in your own job, that you consider a different job. You may get paid, even pretty well. You may hate the work you do (a sign of boredom), or your supervisor, or your co-workers, etc. If working for the customers, in other words, providing exceptional customer service both internally and externally, doesn’t do it for you, then you only have two options. You can cleave and get another job that will probably look very similar to what you left, or you can learn to take pride in your work. I would suggest that taking pride in your work is working for yourself, and is the better option.
If you want to show people that you are competent, confident, and trustworthy, then take pride in what you do. Do it well just so that you can leave the job each day and say, “I did my best today.” It’s a lot like a team sport. Your teammates may not play hard and they may not care about their teammates, but if you play your best, then you’ve done your job. You can leave the field or court with pride.
Working in prison is not easy. Many times while I was watering the trees or issuing the recreation equipment (more often than not I was looking all over the yard for stuff that wasn’t returned) I only had my pride in a job well done to get me through.
Another way that I endured a tough job was my belief in God. As a Christian I believe that our actions reflect who we are in relationship to God. I worked hard in part because I was also working for God. In essence, I felt like He was my boss. I didn’t want to let Him down by knowingly doing a poor job. This is part of what gave me pride in my work. It also helped me to accept that other inmates weren’t going to do a good job.
Some inmates take pride in their work without having a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. I’m glad that they do. Some Christians don’t take pride in their work and it bothers me. I wish more people, not just inmates, would work hard, show patience, and be slow to anger. For me, I can only accomplish this through my faith in Christ.
Jeff
I had not thought about who I worked for when I watered the plants at my first job here. Another inmate seemed to be my supervisor, but he didn’t like for me to call him that. His only job was to assign inmates to jobs, not to oversee them. That job actually belonged to a guard. It seemed that I worked for both the inmates and the guards and didn’t work for them at the same time. The guards, or at least the institution, paid me. It was only $.12 an hour, but they did pay me. At the same time the inmates were like the customers. They received the benefits of the work. Most inmates could care less about how their job benefits the other inmates. I guess the reality is we worked for ourselves.
Working for yourself is dangerous. You will only work as hard as your ethics and ambition take you. Because there is little reward for an ambitious person in prison, many inmates do the very least they can. I would suggest if this is where you are in your own job, that you consider a different job. You may get paid, even pretty well. You may hate the work you do (a sign of boredom), or your supervisor, or your co-workers, etc. If working for the customers, in other words, providing exceptional customer service both internally and externally, doesn’t do it for you, then you only have two options. You can cleave and get another job that will probably look very similar to what you left, or you can learn to take pride in your work. I would suggest that taking pride in your work is working for yourself, and is the better option.
If you want to show people that you are competent, confident, and trustworthy, then take pride in what you do. Do it well just so that you can leave the job each day and say, “I did my best today.” It’s a lot like a team sport. Your teammates may not play hard and they may not care about their teammates, but if you play your best, then you’ve done your job. You can leave the field or court with pride.
Working in prison is not easy. Many times while I was watering the trees or issuing the recreation equipment (more often than not I was looking all over the yard for stuff that wasn’t returned) I only had my pride in a job well done to get me through.
Another way that I endured a tough job was my belief in God. As a Christian I believe that our actions reflect who we are in relationship to God. I worked hard in part because I was also working for God. In essence, I felt like He was my boss. I didn’t want to let Him down by knowingly doing a poor job. This is part of what gave me pride in my work. It also helped me to accept that other inmates weren’t going to do a good job.
Some inmates take pride in their work without having a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. I’m glad that they do. Some Christians don’t take pride in their work and it bothers me. I wish more people, not just inmates, would work hard, show patience, and be slow to anger. For me, I can only accomplish this through my faith in Christ.
Jeff
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Lexicon (#42)
I'm quite a bit behind on the blog updates. I apologize. I'm not sure who is reading these nowadays and people don't write Jeff and comment on them, so I have been busy writing Jeff letters instead of updating. But, I promised Jeff I would update his blog, so I will try to do that. This is a blog that Jeff wanted to put in that doesn't fit in any category. It's a bunch of terms that the prisoners use that he thought were amusing.
Superpathologicalexpialapurgerus (adj.) - a derogatory term to describe a Federal agent.
"The agent on my case testified that I had 10 times the amount of dope that I actually had. He's a superpathologicalexpialapergerus jerk."
Rec (v) - to exercise or play sports
"It's a nice day. Are you going to rec while the weather is nice."
Next Door (n) - the low security prison next to the camp.
"I spent three years next door."
The Bubble (n) - The main control room at the low security prison.
"Before we go out on our crew we have to check in at the bubble."
Visitor (n) - An inmate who has a really short sentence.
"You've only got three months. You're a visitor."
The Hole (n) - Segregated housing unit (synonym - "the Shu")
"You shouldn't take food out of the chow hall. You could go to the hole for that."
Roll Up (v) - When the guards come and pack up you property and roll up your mattress.
"The guards came and rolled up Dave. What did he do to end up in the hole."
Pill Call (n) - The process of getting your medication.
"I have to go to pill call at 5 to get my allergy medicine."
Truck (adj.) - Really bad at sports.
"Did you see him drop that fly ball? He's a truck."
Beast (adj.) - Really good at sports.
"Did you see that shot he made? He's a beast."
Short (adj.) - Having only a few months left on your sentence.
"I just hit my 3 month mark. I'm short."
Waterfront (n) - The living cubicles that are close to the bathroom (synonym - beachfront).
"After my time in the hole they put me on the waterfront."
Beverly Hills (n) - the living cubicles in the back of the dorm with windows.
"It took me 9 months of living on the waterfront, but I finally got to Beverly Hills."
Store (n) - Commissary, the place we can shop for ourselves.
"I bought some chicken at the store because I can't stand eating at the chow hall."
Superpathologicalexpialapurgerus (adj.) - a derogatory term to describe a Federal agent.
"The agent on my case testified that I had 10 times the amount of dope that I actually had. He's a superpathologicalexpialapergerus jerk."
Rec (v) - to exercise or play sports
"It's a nice day. Are you going to rec while the weather is nice."
Next Door (n) - the low security prison next to the camp.
"I spent three years next door."
The Bubble (n) - The main control room at the low security prison.
"Before we go out on our crew we have to check in at the bubble."
Visitor (n) - An inmate who has a really short sentence.
"You've only got three months. You're a visitor."
The Hole (n) - Segregated housing unit (synonym - "the Shu")
"You shouldn't take food out of the chow hall. You could go to the hole for that."
Roll Up (v) - When the guards come and pack up you property and roll up your mattress.
"The guards came and rolled up Dave. What did he do to end up in the hole."
Pill Call (n) - The process of getting your medication.
"I have to go to pill call at 5 to get my allergy medicine."
Truck (adj.) - Really bad at sports.
"Did you see him drop that fly ball? He's a truck."
Beast (adj.) - Really good at sports.
"Did you see that shot he made? He's a beast."
Short (adj.) - Having only a few months left on your sentence.
"I just hit my 3 month mark. I'm short."
Waterfront (n) - The living cubicles that are close to the bathroom (synonym - beachfront).
"After my time in the hole they put me on the waterfront."
Beverly Hills (n) - the living cubicles in the back of the dorm with windows.
"It took me 9 months of living on the waterfront, but I finally got to Beverly Hills."
Store (n) - Commissary, the place we can shop for ourselves.
"I bought some chicken at the store because I can't stand eating at the chow hall."
Retardadorium (n) - The prison camp.
"You meet some odd people at the retardadorium."
Keaster Bunny (n) - someone who smuggles stuff into the prison.
"Where did you get that stuff? What are you, the Keaster Bunny?"
Rack (n, v) - Cubicle or specifically your bed. Also, the act of going to your cube.
"It's count time. Rack it up!"
Skittles (n) - Pills
"I have to go to pill call to get my skittles."
Feed The Warden (v) - Using the restroom.
"Do you have any toilet paper? I have to feed the warden."
Car (n) - A group of guys who cook together.
"Is there going to be a taco car for movie night?"
Driving The Car (v) - The person who is actually cooking.
"Who's driving that taco car on movie night? I want to hitch a ride."
Shot (n) - A disciplinary action.
"I got a shot for gambling."
ITF (n) - Inmate Task Force or an inmate who thinks he's a guard.
"That guy sure talks to the guards a lot. I think he's on the ITF."
Resident Psycho (n) - The strangest person in your dorm.
"That guy might just be the new resident psycho."
Squirrel (v) - To hide contraband.
"I squirreled the weights in the sand by the horseshoe pit."
Day Pass (n) - A 16 hour furlough.
"I finally got my day pass after 18 months here.
Rabbit (v) - To leave the camp without a release (synonym - walk away)
"I heard a guy rabbited last night."
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Make Your Job Work for You (#41)
Make your Job Work for You
I mentioned in a prior blog how at my first job I tended a small rose garden. I could have ignored this garden like most inmates do when assigned jobs, but I chose to make it work for me by learning something that is of interest to my wife. My wife likes to garden, and likes roses. By learning how to grow and tend a rose garden, I became a better husband because I found another way to share in the things my wife enjoys.
Perhaps you are stuck in what seems like a bad job. Making it work for you might be different depending on why you think your job is bad. Does the problem stem from co-workers or management (or both)? Perhaps it is bad because it doesn’t pay well (you are not alone). Perhaps you do not feel challenged or adequately trained. As an inmate, I can still relate to these issue in my prison job, and believe me, I think my co-workers, my pay, my training, and my intellectual opportunities in my prison job by comparison are for worse than most jobs. But, I still think that anyone can make a job work for them, even a lousy prison job.
One thing I regret about my previous jobs is the missed opportunities to learn something new. My first job out of college as a tax accountant provided a plethora of opportunities to learn that I ignored. I remember doing the quarterly payroll and sales tax for a restaurant. Rather than take some time to learn about the restaurant business I simply did the forms I was told to do. It became a rote activity. I took a number from the report and put that number in the computer. I look back at that and think how fascinating it could have been to figure out what that number actually meant to this restaurant, and why it was important. I could have learned something that would have served me well in the future. Two years before I came to prison I had a restaurant as a client for my bookkeeping business. I didn’t keep them very long because that business has some unique aspects to it (liquor licenses for one). I could have done a better job with them if I had made my first job out of college a better learning experience. Instead I viewed it as a dead end, bad job. I was working long hours and only got paid $8.75/hour. Oddly, even the job that ultimately got me in prison was a job where I did try to learn some things, and those helped me start my own bookkeeping business.
My second job at prison was an easy job by prison standards. It was also easy to make the job work for me as well. I was a recreation clerk. I was in charge of issuing equipment to inmates. The best part of the job was that I had a room with a desk to myself. I could write or read without worrying about a sleeping bunkie or taking up someone’s space. I could us the time I had sitting there to achieve personal goals. Because I had to sit there I was able to fill up the time doing things that helped me learn. Of course, the obvious retort is that not everyone just sits at a desk with little responsibility so that they can read all the time. I’ll concede that, but that’s not my point. I know that no one spends 100% of their time at work “working.” Some is spent at lunch, talking on the phone, emailing friends, or just chatting with other employees. I’m not saying don’t do this, I’m just saying that there are snatches of time that we can use to learn on our own. My brother lives in Portland, and during the winter rainy season has decided that he would rather read the Wall St. Journal during his lunch hour than fight the rain going to the local mall to eat for an hour. He eats, but he spends 45 minutes reading, as opposed to 45 minutes going to the mall, waiting in line, finding a table, and then heading back to work. Similarly, use the downtime at your work to read an article in a trade journal, or some other publication you enjoy. I think finding learning activities to do during boring times, or downtime is a good step in making your job work for you.
My current job in the prison is actually a rare job for a prisoner. Out of the 580 or so prisoners here, 15 of us get to leave the camp every weekday and work someplace in town. I found this to be a great job, but I think I have vastly different attitudes about my work than other inmates. True, the out crew does require much more work, and far more strenuous work at that. But, there are benefits that I liked to make the job work for me. First, the church where I go provides us lunch every day. After dreary prison food, having a hamburger, a pizza, or some Chinese takeout makes the work rewarding. Not only that, but the work crew gets to choose what they want. Normally, in prison, you eat what you are served, or you don’t eat. On the outside, if you want a cup of coffee at 6 am, you either have your machine on a time, brew it yourself, or buy a cup. Simple enough. In prison, if you want coffee at 6 am, you have to wait until the chow hall opens, head over there, wait in line, usually for about 20 minutes, then when you get your coffee, it may be sludge. That’s not hyperbole. The coffee here is thick. Anyway, my point is the how I make the out crew work for me.
It is pretty easy to make the out crew work for me. I enjoy the fringe benefits so much and I don’t mind the longer hours and harder work, so it probably is a good job from that perspective, even though my pay is still low, and I get no intellectual stimulation from it. One thing that I did learn from this out crew that I use to my advantage is making the most of my time. I would often work alone. That seems silly, but finding “alone time” at a prison is practically impossible. Yet, on the out crew, there are jobs that you can do by yourself and not see anyone for an hour or more. I use that time to think about things, pray, and just be quiet. The discipline of solitude is something I cherish right now and I’m using my job to get that. So, if you have a job that engages you physically, but not your mind, then use that time to think about something you have read, memorize some verses (I read about a truck driver that did this). Anyway, just think, and you will be surprised at how valuable engaging solitude is, and engaging your mind.
In my next blog, I want to continue the theme of working, and elaborate on a concept I mentioned in an earlier blog, know who you work for.
Jeff
I mentioned in a prior blog how at my first job I tended a small rose garden. I could have ignored this garden like most inmates do when assigned jobs, but I chose to make it work for me by learning something that is of interest to my wife. My wife likes to garden, and likes roses. By learning how to grow and tend a rose garden, I became a better husband because I found another way to share in the things my wife enjoys.
Perhaps you are stuck in what seems like a bad job. Making it work for you might be different depending on why you think your job is bad. Does the problem stem from co-workers or management (or both)? Perhaps it is bad because it doesn’t pay well (you are not alone). Perhaps you do not feel challenged or adequately trained. As an inmate, I can still relate to these issue in my prison job, and believe me, I think my co-workers, my pay, my training, and my intellectual opportunities in my prison job by comparison are for worse than most jobs. But, I still think that anyone can make a job work for them, even a lousy prison job.
One thing I regret about my previous jobs is the missed opportunities to learn something new. My first job out of college as a tax accountant provided a plethora of opportunities to learn that I ignored. I remember doing the quarterly payroll and sales tax for a restaurant. Rather than take some time to learn about the restaurant business I simply did the forms I was told to do. It became a rote activity. I took a number from the report and put that number in the computer. I look back at that and think how fascinating it could have been to figure out what that number actually meant to this restaurant, and why it was important. I could have learned something that would have served me well in the future. Two years before I came to prison I had a restaurant as a client for my bookkeeping business. I didn’t keep them very long because that business has some unique aspects to it (liquor licenses for one). I could have done a better job with them if I had made my first job out of college a better learning experience. Instead I viewed it as a dead end, bad job. I was working long hours and only got paid $8.75/hour. Oddly, even the job that ultimately got me in prison was a job where I did try to learn some things, and those helped me start my own bookkeeping business.
My second job at prison was an easy job by prison standards. It was also easy to make the job work for me as well. I was a recreation clerk. I was in charge of issuing equipment to inmates. The best part of the job was that I had a room with a desk to myself. I could write or read without worrying about a sleeping bunkie or taking up someone’s space. I could us the time I had sitting there to achieve personal goals. Because I had to sit there I was able to fill up the time doing things that helped me learn. Of course, the obvious retort is that not everyone just sits at a desk with little responsibility so that they can read all the time. I’ll concede that, but that’s not my point. I know that no one spends 100% of their time at work “working.” Some is spent at lunch, talking on the phone, emailing friends, or just chatting with other employees. I’m not saying don’t do this, I’m just saying that there are snatches of time that we can use to learn on our own. My brother lives in Portland, and during the winter rainy season has decided that he would rather read the Wall St. Journal during his lunch hour than fight the rain going to the local mall to eat for an hour. He eats, but he spends 45 minutes reading, as opposed to 45 minutes going to the mall, waiting in line, finding a table, and then heading back to work. Similarly, use the downtime at your work to read an article in a trade journal, or some other publication you enjoy. I think finding learning activities to do during boring times, or downtime is a good step in making your job work for you.
My current job in the prison is actually a rare job for a prisoner. Out of the 580 or so prisoners here, 15 of us get to leave the camp every weekday and work someplace in town. I found this to be a great job, but I think I have vastly different attitudes about my work than other inmates. True, the out crew does require much more work, and far more strenuous work at that. But, there are benefits that I liked to make the job work for me. First, the church where I go provides us lunch every day. After dreary prison food, having a hamburger, a pizza, or some Chinese takeout makes the work rewarding. Not only that, but the work crew gets to choose what they want. Normally, in prison, you eat what you are served, or you don’t eat. On the outside, if you want a cup of coffee at 6 am, you either have your machine on a time, brew it yourself, or buy a cup. Simple enough. In prison, if you want coffee at 6 am, you have to wait until the chow hall opens, head over there, wait in line, usually for about 20 minutes, then when you get your coffee, it may be sludge. That’s not hyperbole. The coffee here is thick. Anyway, my point is the how I make the out crew work for me.
It is pretty easy to make the out crew work for me. I enjoy the fringe benefits so much and I don’t mind the longer hours and harder work, so it probably is a good job from that perspective, even though my pay is still low, and I get no intellectual stimulation from it. One thing that I did learn from this out crew that I use to my advantage is making the most of my time. I would often work alone. That seems silly, but finding “alone time” at a prison is practically impossible. Yet, on the out crew, there are jobs that you can do by yourself and not see anyone for an hour or more. I use that time to think about things, pray, and just be quiet. The discipline of solitude is something I cherish right now and I’m using my job to get that. So, if you have a job that engages you physically, but not your mind, then use that time to think about something you have read, memorize some verses (I read about a truck driver that did this). Anyway, just think, and you will be surprised at how valuable engaging solitude is, and engaging your mind.
In my next blog, I want to continue the theme of working, and elaborate on a concept I mentioned in an earlier blog, know who you work for.
Jeff
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Crappy Job (#40)
So You Have a Crappy Job
I had a bad job. Well, I thought it was bad. I got paid well, and not a lot was expected of me, but I wanted more. I wanted a better title, more money, and ultimately, more authority to make decisions. I couldn’t be content with what I had. This was the gateway, the starting point, to my actions that ended in a 3-year prison sentence. I thought I had a crappy job, but I would give anything to have that job back now, considering where I am. Perhaps I can shed some light on some of the things I learned about wanting more in my job and being content with what I have been given.
All prisons expect their inmates to work (at least all Federal prisons do – barring some high security or other extenuating factors). I’ve written about my various jobs in prison, and I still find it to be one of the most interesting situations I have ever experienced. I work for the institution, but it’s the taxpayers who ultimately pay my wages (which would be criminal if I got paid this on the outside, 12 cents an hour). You are supervised by a guard. Yet, in most prison jobs, you will not interact with anyone from the institution. As I have mentioned in an earlier blog, the inmates are your actual customers, and as anyone knows, you really work for the customer. Your customers, while not in direct contact with you, get angry if they have dirty bathroom, poor food, etc. But, in prison, the customers don’t pay for anything. If you can recall back to your basic economics class, the prison is like a communistic economy. Each prisoner should work their best and hardest because the common benefit is the reward, not wages or private ownership. If everyone worked hard, then the food would be better, the restrooms cleaner, the grounds tidier, etc. But, as sinful people, we don’t think like that. The prisoners think, "what kind of effort should I give for 12 cents an hour?" As a result, you get an effort that is the product of 12 cents an hour or what takes the least amount of effort).
When I was a supervisor, one of the most common complaints was about the employee’s level of pay. The management’s response was always find another way to motivate them beyond their pay. The reality is you have to motivate yourself. Even if you have a bad job, finding a new job probably won’t solve the problem. You have to learn to find the positives about the job. Do the job you have and do it well regardless of who is looking or if you are rewarded. Take pride in what you do. I look at this like I would look at dating or self-esteem. If you like who you are, if you are confident in who you are, it will be noticeable. The same is true with your job. You don’t have to necessarily like data entry or like cooking French fries, but by doing it well you can be proud of what you did. If you adopt this attitude people will notice. You can’t do it to be noticed though. You have to just do your job well for the simple reason that you want to take pride in doing your job well.
Finding the right job in prison was important. However, the right job depended largely on what you wanted to do with all the time. There are jobs in prison that take 30 minutes a day. There are jobs that take 3-4 hours. There are jobs that may require you to be up all night and there are jobs that require you to get up at 4am. There are disgusting jobs like cleaning toilets, hauling trash, or washing 500 dishes. There are easy jobs like dusting phones or mopping a small room. There are challenging jobs that require specialized skills. There are even jobs that allow you to leave the prison. It’s important for an inmate to find a job that works with the inmate’s personal objectives. This is true on the outside as well. I’m not saying that you need to change jobs. But, try to make your job work for you. Develop a skill set through your job that can help you be a better person, or a more efficient worker.
Let me give you some examples of my jobs in prison and how I made them work for me. Inmates are assigned their first job by the institution. My first job was as a recreation orderly. After 3 or 4 months, an inmate can change jobs to something they might like better. As a recreation orderly, I was responsible for weeding, watering, and picking up trash in a certain area of the recreation yard. This was not my ideal job. I was supposed to work from 8 – 10 am and then again from 12 – 2 pm. Now this job didn't take four hours, and many inmates made it take an hour or less. Fortunately, the rec jobs do not have a guard who is constantly monitoring the inmate’s every move, so you could do your job in 30 minutes or you could take more time. I figured this job would take about 2 1/2 hours to do well. So, I made it work. I went to an exercise class from 8 – 9 am and then after already getting sweaty, I would proceed to do my weeding work from 9 – 10.
When I came back out at noon, I would water the plants while I walked the track. I also brought out books to read or wrote letters. I could read while I picked up trash. I made the job fit with what I wanted to accomplish while still doing my job and doing it well (this based on the fact that no one else weeded and rarely did anyone pick up trash). Did I do this to be noticed? No, I wanted to look at my work each day and say, “The rose garden looks good.” I got to enjoy the rose garden because I worked on it. I know other guys appreciated it too, but that wasn’t why I did it. It was an unintended benefit to them. The job itself was not difficult, but I tried to do it well, and better myself while doing it.
I made this job work for me by getting exercise, writing, reading, and enjoying the rose garden. My family and in-laws are gardeners. Even if I only had time to work on the rose garden, I would have made the job work for me because I would have learned something that would have helped me relate to my wife and in-laws. I would have become a better husband simply by learning something about gardening. Most guys in prison wouldn’t view their job as a way to become a better husband and probably many of you don’t look at your job as a way of learning something that can make you a better person. I’m not necessarily talking about the actual skills you need to do your job. I’m talking about other skills you can learn from your job.
Jeff
I had a bad job. Well, I thought it was bad. I got paid well, and not a lot was expected of me, but I wanted more. I wanted a better title, more money, and ultimately, more authority to make decisions. I couldn’t be content with what I had. This was the gateway, the starting point, to my actions that ended in a 3-year prison sentence. I thought I had a crappy job, but I would give anything to have that job back now, considering where I am. Perhaps I can shed some light on some of the things I learned about wanting more in my job and being content with what I have been given.
All prisons expect their inmates to work (at least all Federal prisons do – barring some high security or other extenuating factors). I’ve written about my various jobs in prison, and I still find it to be one of the most interesting situations I have ever experienced. I work for the institution, but it’s the taxpayers who ultimately pay my wages (which would be criminal if I got paid this on the outside, 12 cents an hour). You are supervised by a guard. Yet, in most prison jobs, you will not interact with anyone from the institution. As I have mentioned in an earlier blog, the inmates are your actual customers, and as anyone knows, you really work for the customer. Your customers, while not in direct contact with you, get angry if they have dirty bathroom, poor food, etc. But, in prison, the customers don’t pay for anything. If you can recall back to your basic economics class, the prison is like a communistic economy. Each prisoner should work their best and hardest because the common benefit is the reward, not wages or private ownership. If everyone worked hard, then the food would be better, the restrooms cleaner, the grounds tidier, etc. But, as sinful people, we don’t think like that. The prisoners think, "what kind of effort should I give for 12 cents an hour?" As a result, you get an effort that is the product of 12 cents an hour or what takes the least amount of effort).
When I was a supervisor, one of the most common complaints was about the employee’s level of pay. The management’s response was always find another way to motivate them beyond their pay. The reality is you have to motivate yourself. Even if you have a bad job, finding a new job probably won’t solve the problem. You have to learn to find the positives about the job. Do the job you have and do it well regardless of who is looking or if you are rewarded. Take pride in what you do. I look at this like I would look at dating or self-esteem. If you like who you are, if you are confident in who you are, it will be noticeable. The same is true with your job. You don’t have to necessarily like data entry or like cooking French fries, but by doing it well you can be proud of what you did. If you adopt this attitude people will notice. You can’t do it to be noticed though. You have to just do your job well for the simple reason that you want to take pride in doing your job well.
Finding the right job in prison was important. However, the right job depended largely on what you wanted to do with all the time. There are jobs in prison that take 30 minutes a day. There are jobs that take 3-4 hours. There are jobs that may require you to be up all night and there are jobs that require you to get up at 4am. There are disgusting jobs like cleaning toilets, hauling trash, or washing 500 dishes. There are easy jobs like dusting phones or mopping a small room. There are challenging jobs that require specialized skills. There are even jobs that allow you to leave the prison. It’s important for an inmate to find a job that works with the inmate’s personal objectives. This is true on the outside as well. I’m not saying that you need to change jobs. But, try to make your job work for you. Develop a skill set through your job that can help you be a better person, or a more efficient worker.
Let me give you some examples of my jobs in prison and how I made them work for me. Inmates are assigned their first job by the institution. My first job was as a recreation orderly. After 3 or 4 months, an inmate can change jobs to something they might like better. As a recreation orderly, I was responsible for weeding, watering, and picking up trash in a certain area of the recreation yard. This was not my ideal job. I was supposed to work from 8 – 10 am and then again from 12 – 2 pm. Now this job didn't take four hours, and many inmates made it take an hour or less. Fortunately, the rec jobs do not have a guard who is constantly monitoring the inmate’s every move, so you could do your job in 30 minutes or you could take more time. I figured this job would take about 2 1/2 hours to do well. So, I made it work. I went to an exercise class from 8 – 9 am and then after already getting sweaty, I would proceed to do my weeding work from 9 – 10.
When I came back out at noon, I would water the plants while I walked the track. I also brought out books to read or wrote letters. I could read while I picked up trash. I made the job fit with what I wanted to accomplish while still doing my job and doing it well (this based on the fact that no one else weeded and rarely did anyone pick up trash). Did I do this to be noticed? No, I wanted to look at my work each day and say, “The rose garden looks good.” I got to enjoy the rose garden because I worked on it. I know other guys appreciated it too, but that wasn’t why I did it. It was an unintended benefit to them. The job itself was not difficult, but I tried to do it well, and better myself while doing it.
I made this job work for me by getting exercise, writing, reading, and enjoying the rose garden. My family and in-laws are gardeners. Even if I only had time to work on the rose garden, I would have made the job work for me because I would have learned something that would have helped me relate to my wife and in-laws. I would have become a better husband simply by learning something about gardening. Most guys in prison wouldn’t view their job as a way to become a better husband and probably many of you don’t look at your job as a way of learning something that can make you a better person. I’m not necessarily talking about the actual skills you need to do your job. I’m talking about other skills you can learn from your job.
Jeff
Monday, May 19, 2008
Quarterly Update (#39)
This is about a month old now. I'm a bit behind on the updates- Scott.
This past Sunday (April 13th) marked my 1-year anniversary in prison. I had strange feelings as I approached my anniversary. Until now, everything was still new. I had not spent an Easter in prison until this past March. What would that be like? What would the weather be like in March (the winter wasn’t too bad). When will the trees turn green again? These questions seem mundane, but in a place where very little changes from day to day, change, in any form, helps one cope. As I started to see things that were the same from last year after I had just arrived, that sense of change and newness left. I could no longer say, “tomorrow will bring something new.” I know look at the calendar and say, “I know what April will look like.” This kind of made me depressed, because the newness of things helps the time pass. The mundane unchanging elements make the stay here feel as though time is slowing or stopped. As much as the routine gets you through the day (if you keep busy), it’s the little changes that keep you sane. It reminds me of that saying about how change is the spice of life. Every so often you need change to keep things interesting.
The other thing that I noticed as I approached my anniversary is that everyone pointed out that I had been here for 1 year. Probably the one thing every inmate does is track how much time they have served and how much time they have left. I’ve calculated the number of weeks I have left, the exact date that represents my halfway point, and just about every possible milestone you can imagine regarding my stay in Taft.
I’ve been fortunate that I’ve had some small changes since my last quarterly update. I’ve had some big changes too, although you don’t always want that. My last quarterly update – based on my 9 months here, was January 13. Since then, one of the biggest changes that has been both sweet and sour was my dad’s arrival to the Taft Camp. I’m happy that there is a friendly face, but it’s never fun to see a family member go through what I’ve been through or taken away from family and friends. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. My dad had one of the more difficult 3-4 weeks after arrival of anyone I know here. A few days after he got here, his brother (my uncle) passed away suddenly. My uncle was sick and in the hospital before my dad arrived, and my dad was able to visit before he reported to Taft, but no one, not even the doctors, thought his illness was life threatening. That was pretty hard on my dad. It left his mom without any help. I was really sad for my dad, because the first month or so, prison is a hard enough adjustment, but my dad had the weight of his mom and her care on his mind, not to mention the grieving of his brother to deal with. I was able to get my dad moved into my dorm. That was good. In that same week, we had a shakedown. A shakedown is when the guards come through the dorms looking for contraband. In this instance, they were looking for people with extra blankets, pillows, cardboard, etc. in their lockers. It was not a very serious shakedown, but it was my first experience with (and this after almost 9 months) that and I know my dad was nervous. In your first week, everything seems crazy, and a shakedown just adds to the stress.
I have been able to help my dad get adjusted. I’ve tried to spend some time with him walking, but because of my job, I’m away from the camp most of the day. We do eat breakfast and lunch together on the weekend and I do manage to spend some time with him every day mainly to catch up on things.
I’m still working on the “out crew.” Working with inmates poses some interesting challenges (of which I will write soon), but I enjoy the work. I find that it prepares me mentally to be back in the workplace. Oddly, you adjust to working a couple of hours a day. When you go back to a regular 8 hour job schedule, it’s a shock. On the out crew I work about six hours a day. So, not only does it help pass the time, but I am getting used to working a normal work day schedule. I work on the out crew 5 days a week, so it makes the weekends feel like weekends. I think that is one of the things I enjoy most, that the weeks are separated by work and then rest. That didn’t happen in here with my previous job.
There was a small change to the out crew schedule that I really enjoyed. One day we went to the mountains to clean a camp that the church runs. The change of scenery was uplifting. We actually saw and walked in snow. We were surrounded by pine trees. This is a drastic change from the Taft landscape and welcome one in my opinion. I hope that I will get to go the camp again before my next update.
Another small change that is helping me stay sane is my recent move to another cubicle and a new bunkie. I’m pleased to announce that I have a window in my new cubicle. My window faces East and I have already enjoyed numerous sunrises. I write most of my letters by the sunrise light. The window also faces a grove a trees that the Native Americans at the camp use as their meeting place. Most of the time the grove of trees is devoid of inmates, so I get to enjoy a somewhat more scenic view than the arid dirt that makes up Taft.
I’ve started and almost completed another soccer season. I’m not enjoying my soccer as much as I did before. I find that people are extremely critical, and I get too competitive. Not to mention that I’m older than most of the guys, and my body can’t take the beating like it could when I was 20 or 25. It’s not a positive or enjoyable environment when you are injured all the time and other players can’t understand why you are not playing. I do like the exercise and the game, but the chronic injuries are not worth the trouble right now. Before I play in another league, I plan on taking a break and allowing my body to recover from the myriad of injuries.
I have also had a couple of opportunities to speak in church. I had wanted to do this when I first arrived, but I don’t feel that way now. I think that we have many people here with gifts for teaching, and I’m not one of them. Being on the out crew does not afford me the time to prepare the talks as well as I would like. That makes me anxious and I think the men deserve and can get better. At this point, I doubt I will pursue opportunities to speak. Maybe when I get out I will look into that, but at this point, I don’t feel like that is what God wants me to do.
Please pray for my relationship with my dad. I want to develop a stronger friendship with him. That’s my priority right now.
Thanks for all of your letters, prayer, and support. I’m doing fairly well all things considered. I hpe that by the next update I can write to you about a furlough. But maybe not until the Fall.
Jeff
This past Sunday (April 13th) marked my 1-year anniversary in prison. I had strange feelings as I approached my anniversary. Until now, everything was still new. I had not spent an Easter in prison until this past March. What would that be like? What would the weather be like in March (the winter wasn’t too bad). When will the trees turn green again? These questions seem mundane, but in a place where very little changes from day to day, change, in any form, helps one cope. As I started to see things that were the same from last year after I had just arrived, that sense of change and newness left. I could no longer say, “tomorrow will bring something new.” I know look at the calendar and say, “I know what April will look like.” This kind of made me depressed, because the newness of things helps the time pass. The mundane unchanging elements make the stay here feel as though time is slowing or stopped. As much as the routine gets you through the day (if you keep busy), it’s the little changes that keep you sane. It reminds me of that saying about how change is the spice of life. Every so often you need change to keep things interesting.
The other thing that I noticed as I approached my anniversary is that everyone pointed out that I had been here for 1 year. Probably the one thing every inmate does is track how much time they have served and how much time they have left. I’ve calculated the number of weeks I have left, the exact date that represents my halfway point, and just about every possible milestone you can imagine regarding my stay in Taft.
I’ve been fortunate that I’ve had some small changes since my last quarterly update. I’ve had some big changes too, although you don’t always want that. My last quarterly update – based on my 9 months here, was January 13. Since then, one of the biggest changes that has been both sweet and sour was my dad’s arrival to the Taft Camp. I’m happy that there is a friendly face, but it’s never fun to see a family member go through what I’ve been through or taken away from family and friends. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. My dad had one of the more difficult 3-4 weeks after arrival of anyone I know here. A few days after he got here, his brother (my uncle) passed away suddenly. My uncle was sick and in the hospital before my dad arrived, and my dad was able to visit before he reported to Taft, but no one, not even the doctors, thought his illness was life threatening. That was pretty hard on my dad. It left his mom without any help. I was really sad for my dad, because the first month or so, prison is a hard enough adjustment, but my dad had the weight of his mom and her care on his mind, not to mention the grieving of his brother to deal with. I was able to get my dad moved into my dorm. That was good. In that same week, we had a shakedown. A shakedown is when the guards come through the dorms looking for contraband. In this instance, they were looking for people with extra blankets, pillows, cardboard, etc. in their lockers. It was not a very serious shakedown, but it was my first experience with (and this after almost 9 months) that and I know my dad was nervous. In your first week, everything seems crazy, and a shakedown just adds to the stress.
I have been able to help my dad get adjusted. I’ve tried to spend some time with him walking, but because of my job, I’m away from the camp most of the day. We do eat breakfast and lunch together on the weekend and I do manage to spend some time with him every day mainly to catch up on things.
I’m still working on the “out crew.” Working with inmates poses some interesting challenges (of which I will write soon), but I enjoy the work. I find that it prepares me mentally to be back in the workplace. Oddly, you adjust to working a couple of hours a day. When you go back to a regular 8 hour job schedule, it’s a shock. On the out crew I work about six hours a day. So, not only does it help pass the time, but I am getting used to working a normal work day schedule. I work on the out crew 5 days a week, so it makes the weekends feel like weekends. I think that is one of the things I enjoy most, that the weeks are separated by work and then rest. That didn’t happen in here with my previous job.
There was a small change to the out crew schedule that I really enjoyed. One day we went to the mountains to clean a camp that the church runs. The change of scenery was uplifting. We actually saw and walked in snow. We were surrounded by pine trees. This is a drastic change from the Taft landscape and welcome one in my opinion. I hope that I will get to go the camp again before my next update.
Another small change that is helping me stay sane is my recent move to another cubicle and a new bunkie. I’m pleased to announce that I have a window in my new cubicle. My window faces East and I have already enjoyed numerous sunrises. I write most of my letters by the sunrise light. The window also faces a grove a trees that the Native Americans at the camp use as their meeting place. Most of the time the grove of trees is devoid of inmates, so I get to enjoy a somewhat more scenic view than the arid dirt that makes up Taft.
I’ve started and almost completed another soccer season. I’m not enjoying my soccer as much as I did before. I find that people are extremely critical, and I get too competitive. Not to mention that I’m older than most of the guys, and my body can’t take the beating like it could when I was 20 or 25. It’s not a positive or enjoyable environment when you are injured all the time and other players can’t understand why you are not playing. I do like the exercise and the game, but the chronic injuries are not worth the trouble right now. Before I play in another league, I plan on taking a break and allowing my body to recover from the myriad of injuries.
I have also had a couple of opportunities to speak in church. I had wanted to do this when I first arrived, but I don’t feel that way now. I think that we have many people here with gifts for teaching, and I’m not one of them. Being on the out crew does not afford me the time to prepare the talks as well as I would like. That makes me anxious and I think the men deserve and can get better. At this point, I doubt I will pursue opportunities to speak. Maybe when I get out I will look into that, but at this point, I don’t feel like that is what God wants me to do.
Please pray for my relationship with my dad. I want to develop a stronger friendship with him. That’s my priority right now.
Thanks for all of your letters, prayer, and support. I’m doing fairly well all things considered. I hpe that by the next update I can write to you about a furlough. But maybe not until the Fall.
Jeff
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Don't be a Rat (#38)
Jeff just finished his first year at Taft Prison Camp on April 13th. He is sending a quarterly update soon. Here is his latest blog
I’m kind of jumping around a bit in my entries. In a previous blog, I wrote about how the little things matter. That principle pervades all of prison life. I want to comment on one aspect of that principle specifically as it applies to prison living (I guess among criminals in general). That is, don’t be a rat. Being stigmatized as a “rat” in prison is not the way you want to spend your time. In fact, whether justified or not, being labeled a rate is about the worst way to go through prison.
How does one define a rat, or get the label of rat? This starts with the details of your case. The assumption is that if you accepted a plea bargain, then you agreed to testify against someone or did actually provide information against someone to lessen your own sentence. This seems to be most true of drug cases, which are an extraordinarily high percentage of all the federal cases, well over 75%. In cases like mine, white collar crime, accepting a plea bargain does not necessarily mean you testified against someone, or volunteered information. In fact, the government would rather have a plea bargain in white collar crime because the cases are often far more complex than drug cases. The prosecutors don’t have time to delve into the intricacies of the general business transaction that led to the indictment much less proving that actions were criminal. It is much easier to have the indicted just accepted a plea bargain and save everyone a lengthy and complicated trial. Fortunately, at a prison camp, you can find many more white collar criminals than in higher levels of prison. So, a white collar criminal is not automatically assumed to be a rat because of accepting a plea offer (as I did).
At my camp (and I assume in all prisons), the inmates are watched closely by other inmates to see what kind of person the inmate is. The dumbest thing an inmate can do is write a negative note to the prison staff about another inmate or group of inmates. This is called writing a “cop out.” You write “cop outs” for all kinds of complaints, from food to lack of heat. However, if you write too many “cop outs” other inmates will assume that some are complaints about your inmate peers. One of the most frequent “cop out” complaints is when an inmate is offended by a movie and complains about it. Too many of these and the staff stops showing movies, which in turn, irritates the inmates.
Another example that hits me closely involves a group of inmates who live in bunks in the back corner of the dorm, also where I happen to bunk. These guys have decided to have all the lights out in this corner by 9 pm. This is fine, except that the prison does not require lights to be out until 10 pm. Technically the inmates have no authority to do this or enforce it. I could write a “cop out” complaining about it, but what would that accomplish? I would be labeled as a rat. I could leave my light on and get the ire of the other guys too. Not much better. The solution I arrived at was to be flexible and live with the early lights out. It’s not a big problem and there are worse things I could worry about. By not complaining, my reputation as a guy who can “get along” increases. Like I said, you are always being watched and evaluated. The other inmates want to know what kind of person you are, and because of the small living areas, it doesn’t take long for them to figure it out if you do something to earn their distrust.
There are legitimate “rats” here. Some guys do get benefits by helping the guards and counselors find contraband. In a situation where weapons are drugs are involved, I’m not sure I mind having an insider around. Those things can threaten my safety. Despite the constant accusations though, I cannot say for certain whether I know who is an insider. The most blatant thing I’ve seen that would cause concern is a guy who has been accused of being a rat by numerous people took cuts in line in plain view of 4 guards whose job was to watch for people taking cuts. They caught several people that day, at least 5 while I was waiting in line. They did nothing to this particular guy. There are probably numerous explanations for this and it doesn’t confirm that he’s a rat, but for the first time, I was suspicious of someone.
There is one situation where I have no problem being a rat. This is when one inmate is trying to cheat another inmate. In higher security institutions, you would still not be a rat in this situation. You would stick with your group. In a camp, you don’t really have a group. You just try to stay out of trouble. Well, if I know a guy who is getting cheated, and I know both parties, I generally bring it up. This might make me disliked by the guy trying to cheat the other, but the guy who was getting cheated feels like he can trust me. Again, you are always being evaluated. The guy trying to cheat people will establish a bad reputation. I don’t want to earn his trust by keeping quiet. I don’t want to be “in” with a cheater. I would rather establish a reputation as a guy who is fair. I think that my reputation has helped with guys that I don’t know. If someone thinks I’m trying to do something to them that is cheating, hustling or whatever, most of the time they will ask around. Most guys know that I give when I can, help out when I can, and repay what I borrow. They know I’m a Christian and that I try to live to those standards. When another inmate vouches for you and who your are, you have achieved a very noble compliment. I’m proud that I have established an honest and fair reputation in a place where everyone failed in these circumstances at some point.
Jeff
I’m kind of jumping around a bit in my entries. In a previous blog, I wrote about how the little things matter. That principle pervades all of prison life. I want to comment on one aspect of that principle specifically as it applies to prison living (I guess among criminals in general). That is, don’t be a rat. Being stigmatized as a “rat” in prison is not the way you want to spend your time. In fact, whether justified or not, being labeled a rate is about the worst way to go through prison.
How does one define a rat, or get the label of rat? This starts with the details of your case. The assumption is that if you accepted a plea bargain, then you agreed to testify against someone or did actually provide information against someone to lessen your own sentence. This seems to be most true of drug cases, which are an extraordinarily high percentage of all the federal cases, well over 75%. In cases like mine, white collar crime, accepting a plea bargain does not necessarily mean you testified against someone, or volunteered information. In fact, the government would rather have a plea bargain in white collar crime because the cases are often far more complex than drug cases. The prosecutors don’t have time to delve into the intricacies of the general business transaction that led to the indictment much less proving that actions were criminal. It is much easier to have the indicted just accepted a plea bargain and save everyone a lengthy and complicated trial. Fortunately, at a prison camp, you can find many more white collar criminals than in higher levels of prison. So, a white collar criminal is not automatically assumed to be a rat because of accepting a plea offer (as I did).
At my camp (and I assume in all prisons), the inmates are watched closely by other inmates to see what kind of person the inmate is. The dumbest thing an inmate can do is write a negative note to the prison staff about another inmate or group of inmates. This is called writing a “cop out.” You write “cop outs” for all kinds of complaints, from food to lack of heat. However, if you write too many “cop outs” other inmates will assume that some are complaints about your inmate peers. One of the most frequent “cop out” complaints is when an inmate is offended by a movie and complains about it. Too many of these and the staff stops showing movies, which in turn, irritates the inmates.
Another example that hits me closely involves a group of inmates who live in bunks in the back corner of the dorm, also where I happen to bunk. These guys have decided to have all the lights out in this corner by 9 pm. This is fine, except that the prison does not require lights to be out until 10 pm. Technically the inmates have no authority to do this or enforce it. I could write a “cop out” complaining about it, but what would that accomplish? I would be labeled as a rat. I could leave my light on and get the ire of the other guys too. Not much better. The solution I arrived at was to be flexible and live with the early lights out. It’s not a big problem and there are worse things I could worry about. By not complaining, my reputation as a guy who can “get along” increases. Like I said, you are always being watched and evaluated. The other inmates want to know what kind of person you are, and because of the small living areas, it doesn’t take long for them to figure it out if you do something to earn their distrust.
There are legitimate “rats” here. Some guys do get benefits by helping the guards and counselors find contraband. In a situation where weapons are drugs are involved, I’m not sure I mind having an insider around. Those things can threaten my safety. Despite the constant accusations though, I cannot say for certain whether I know who is an insider. The most blatant thing I’ve seen that would cause concern is a guy who has been accused of being a rat by numerous people took cuts in line in plain view of 4 guards whose job was to watch for people taking cuts. They caught several people that day, at least 5 while I was waiting in line. They did nothing to this particular guy. There are probably numerous explanations for this and it doesn’t confirm that he’s a rat, but for the first time, I was suspicious of someone.
There is one situation where I have no problem being a rat. This is when one inmate is trying to cheat another inmate. In higher security institutions, you would still not be a rat in this situation. You would stick with your group. In a camp, you don’t really have a group. You just try to stay out of trouble. Well, if I know a guy who is getting cheated, and I know both parties, I generally bring it up. This might make me disliked by the guy trying to cheat the other, but the guy who was getting cheated feels like he can trust me. Again, you are always being evaluated. The guy trying to cheat people will establish a bad reputation. I don’t want to earn his trust by keeping quiet. I don’t want to be “in” with a cheater. I would rather establish a reputation as a guy who is fair. I think that my reputation has helped with guys that I don’t know. If someone thinks I’m trying to do something to them that is cheating, hustling or whatever, most of the time they will ask around. Most guys know that I give when I can, help out when I can, and repay what I borrow. They know I’m a Christian and that I try to live to those standards. When another inmate vouches for you and who your are, you have achieved a very noble compliment. I’m proud that I have established an honest and fair reputation in a place where everyone failed in these circumstances at some point.
Jeff
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Working in Prison (#37)
I’ve gone over rules about living with other inmates and some rules that the institution imposes. There are even more rules for when you work with other inmates. Quite frankly, working with inmates stinks. It reminds me of the television show Survivor. I remember from watching Survivor that generally, in the first few episodes, anyone who tried to be a leader, or to organize the group was usually sent off quickly. Some comments would be, “who did he think he was telling me to do this or that”, or “she thinks she’s better than everyone”, etc. The players didn’t want leaders who were efficient and who would delegate tasks, mainly they didn’t want other people to tell them what to do, when to do it, or how to do it. The players wanted to do their own thing. This is what happens in prison with inmates and work. Very few inmates will actually listen to another inmate, much less do what he suggests when it comes to doing work. It’s an inmate rule. Never tell another inmate how to do his job. This makes working with inmates difficult. I currently work on an “out crew.” I go out to a church in the community and work at the church doing various odd tasks like gardening, cleaning, and set up and tear down for special events. We don’t have any guards with us when we work. Rather, we are supervised by someone from the church. On occasion our supervisor will not be prepared with work details, and instead just says find something to do. Well, there is always something that needs work, so it shouldn’t be a difficult task. However, an inmate cannot tell another inmate what to do, so the directive essentially becomes, sit around and do nothing until I catch you. I made the mistake once of telling an inmate what a good project would be, because I thought we were a team. The supervisor had told us some jobs that needed to be done, and I suggested that one inmate do one part, and I do the other. My suggestion bothered the other inmate. I later discovered that all the other guys on my crew didn’t want to be in a position to tell the other guys what to do. They all felt like that was the supervisor’s job. So much for the team. I’ll help the team out only if that’s what I’m told to do.
In order to adapt to this work environment, I have a couple of personal rules that I follow. First, I do my job, and I try to do it well. I can’t complain about how other people do their job (or don’t do it) if I don’t do my own job. Some inmates don’t do their jobs. I’m not saying that they just do poor work or don’t work hard, but really, some inmates don’t even show up for work. It’s and important rule for me not only to show up, but to do my job as best I can.
Another rule that I follow is “figure out who you work for.” This is different from figuring out why you work. Knowing who you work for is important. In one of my jobs at prison I was asked by an inmate, “do you work for us or for the guards?” Of course I said, “For us.” But, I had to think about that. I didn’t really know what he meant. I got paid by the prison and a guard supervised the department, but did that mean I worked for them? The inmates are the customers here, and my job was to issue recreational equipment to other inmates. To do this, had to collect their card and hold it until the inmate returned the equipment. I later learned that inmates are not supposed to give their cards to other inmates. This posed a problem. By following one directive, I would be disobeying another. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was working for the customers. I had to find a way to not take their cards, but to track who took what equipment. That’s easy enough. I just made a list of people who used the equipment on my shift. This way I was doing my job and working for the people who needed the service.
This rule is a little different on my out crew. I still get paid by the prison, but I work for the church. Who is the customer? Since the church receives my services, then I work for the church. We have a supervisor at work, but she answers to the pastor. So, I ultimately work for the pastor. My supervisor is more like a part of the team. I work hard so that she and the rest of my team look good to the pastor.
Another rule I try to follow is to take pride in my work regardless of who is watching. I’m able to do this because I want to be faithful in the smallest things. I know that God is watching me and that I am pleasing him and obeying him when I work hard and do my best just because of who I am. I didn’t always view work this way. When I was an employee, I didn’t particularly care about the company for whom I worked, and I cut corners all the time. I wasn’t so concerned about the work I was producing. I was doing enough to get by. Some people will work hard to get noticed and when they don’t then they do just enough. That was me. I’ve learned in prison what you have to do your best work regardless of who notices. Nobody notices work in prison. You will never hear a guard say, “that’s excellent work.” In fact, most guys don’t do excellent work, or efficient work because they don’t want to be given harder or more work later. They view that as working too hard for nothing.
The guards, staff, and inmates don’t care about your work. There is no corporate ladder, or reward, or incentive. You either work hard and do a good job because you have integrity and you care about those around you or you don’t. If you are lucky you may find that someone does care. It’s rare, but a few people will notice and you will have earned their respect. The respect comes from the integrity and not the expectation of reward. As I said, if you work here expecting a reward, you won’t receive one, and will get frustrated. You don’t get rewarded in prison. You have to decide, do you work hard because you want to or do you work enough to just get by.
Jeff
In order to adapt to this work environment, I have a couple of personal rules that I follow. First, I do my job, and I try to do it well. I can’t complain about how other people do their job (or don’t do it) if I don’t do my own job. Some inmates don’t do their jobs. I’m not saying that they just do poor work or don’t work hard, but really, some inmates don’t even show up for work. It’s and important rule for me not only to show up, but to do my job as best I can.
Another rule that I follow is “figure out who you work for.” This is different from figuring out why you work. Knowing who you work for is important. In one of my jobs at prison I was asked by an inmate, “do you work for us or for the guards?” Of course I said, “For us.” But, I had to think about that. I didn’t really know what he meant. I got paid by the prison and a guard supervised the department, but did that mean I worked for them? The inmates are the customers here, and my job was to issue recreational equipment to other inmates. To do this, had to collect their card and hold it until the inmate returned the equipment. I later learned that inmates are not supposed to give their cards to other inmates. This posed a problem. By following one directive, I would be disobeying another. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was working for the customers. I had to find a way to not take their cards, but to track who took what equipment. That’s easy enough. I just made a list of people who used the equipment on my shift. This way I was doing my job and working for the people who needed the service.
This rule is a little different on my out crew. I still get paid by the prison, but I work for the church. Who is the customer? Since the church receives my services, then I work for the church. We have a supervisor at work, but she answers to the pastor. So, I ultimately work for the pastor. My supervisor is more like a part of the team. I work hard so that she and the rest of my team look good to the pastor.
Another rule I try to follow is to take pride in my work regardless of who is watching. I’m able to do this because I want to be faithful in the smallest things. I know that God is watching me and that I am pleasing him and obeying him when I work hard and do my best just because of who I am. I didn’t always view work this way. When I was an employee, I didn’t particularly care about the company for whom I worked, and I cut corners all the time. I wasn’t so concerned about the work I was producing. I was doing enough to get by. Some people will work hard to get noticed and when they don’t then they do just enough. That was me. I’ve learned in prison what you have to do your best work regardless of who notices. Nobody notices work in prison. You will never hear a guard say, “that’s excellent work.” In fact, most guys don’t do excellent work, or efficient work because they don’t want to be given harder or more work later. They view that as working too hard for nothing.
The guards, staff, and inmates don’t care about your work. There is no corporate ladder, or reward, or incentive. You either work hard and do a good job because you have integrity and you care about those around you or you don’t. If you are lucky you may find that someone does care. It’s rare, but a few people will notice and you will have earned their respect. The respect comes from the integrity and not the expectation of reward. As I said, if you work here expecting a reward, you won’t receive one, and will get frustrated. You don’t get rewarded in prison. You have to decide, do you work hard because you want to or do you work enough to just get by.
Jeff
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Institution Rules (#36)
Just as inmates have their little, seemingly insignificant rules, but actually very important rules, so the institution here at Taft has it’s own little rules that a man ignores at his own peril. If breached, one finds out quickly that there are consequences for the slightest infraction.
I had probably been at the camp for about a month when I discovered the severe consequence of not following a little institution rule. The rule, which I knew about from one of my first days here, is that an inmate must have his shirt tucked into his pants from 8 am to 4 pm (the prison’s operating or business hours). I had been working in the Rec. yard and was getting hot (Taft is pretty warm, and this was in May). I went back to the dorm to change. I was in a hurry and forgot to tuck in my shirt on my way back out. I probably took 15 steps out of the door before I remembered that I hadn’t tucked in my shirt. A guard was coming toward me and noticed my un-tucked shirt and accosted me about the infraction. The guard asked me for my card. I told him my card was in my locker. I was quite fortunate that I had left my ID card in my locker because he let me go without incident. Ironically, another rule, which I have a difficult time remembering, is to keep your ID card with you at all times. So, somehow I got away with violating one rule by violating another. That’s the way prison is sometimes: nonsensical.
Usually the punishment for not tucking in your shirt is extra work duty. The idea of extra duty is humorous because if every inmate did his job you would have nothing extra to do. The prison would be immaculate. I think about 1/3 of the inmates do no work whatsoever. So, rather than punish the guys who don’t work, they guys who forget to tuck in their shirts do the jobs of those guys who don’t work. It’s similar to the outside world. Still, it makes little sense to me.
Another rule that we need to follow here is that we are required to wear pants around the compound between 8 am and 4 pm. Failing to wear pants during this time can result in various disciplinary actions from a “shot” (a basic derogatory statement on your record), to not being allowed to eat. The punishment depends on where you are, what you are doing, and which guard catches you. If you go to work in shorts, you could get extra duty or a disciplinary “shot” depending on the guard. If you go to the chow hall in shorts, you probably will be send back to the dorm to change.
One of my favorite nonsensical rules is the prohibition from walking on the grass. I don’t know what the consequences would be if the rule were breached. The grass isn’t particularly nice, and I have seen inmates walk on it from time to time. I haven’t seen anyone punished for the infraction yet. Actually, very few inmates walk on the grass. So, the penalty must not be worth the infraction.
Another seemingly insignificant rule that has mild to severe consequences is that one must stand during the standing count. I’m not sure why we have to stand. Some guys think it is to make sure we are still alive. I think this is the way it’s always done, so it has become habit. We stand because as far as the guards know, we have always stood. The reason is no longer relevant. I personally think it is just another way to dehumanize the prisoners. My dad allegedly violated this rule in his first few weeks in and had to do extra work duty. He and his bunkies claim he was standing the whole time. My dad got a mild punishment. You can get thrown into the “SHU,” the segregated housing unit, for not standing. It mostly depends on the guard, and the mood they are in. If you argue with the guard when you weren’t in your cube or asleep, you could get sent to segregated housing. This is usually the punishment for the guys who have been around. The newer guys, like my dad, get extra duty.
I’m sure most of these rules seem petty. They are, for the most part. However, learning and following the rules are part of the learning process every inmate experiences, and since we are here for not following society’s rules, it’s probably a good thing. If I had followed the rules at my job, I wouldn’t be here. These rules are easy to follow. Tucking in one’s shirt is not complicated, but it does make a guy be part of a system and requires humility. You feel like a child being told to tuck in your shirt, or to stay off the grass. But, for the guys here who couldn’t be trusted with bigger rules, it’s a good place to start (even if the guards sometimes abuse their authority).
The little, insignificant, petty, arbitrary, and sometimes meaningless rules are still important. They are the easiest to ignore, bend, and break. Sometimes we break them so frequently that we forget a rule even exists. I’m continually reminded that my character and integrity start with the little rules in life. It might be a rule at work, such as “don’t leave the computer on when you leave.” Maybe it’s a rule at home, “never leave the toilet paper role empty.” These rules are there to show who has integrity and the respect for others. Those that do will follow the rules, even if doing some requires humility.
In prison, it’s easy to spot the selfish people. I have pointed this out before, but all one has to do is look at the rule breakers. Who cuts in line? Who walks on the grass? The inmate that doesn’t respect the institution with simple rules won’t respect the other inmates either. If you can’t trust someone to follow a simple rule, why would you trust them as a co-worker, partner, supervisor, or spouse? You can’t.
Jeff
I had probably been at the camp for about a month when I discovered the severe consequence of not following a little institution rule. The rule, which I knew about from one of my first days here, is that an inmate must have his shirt tucked into his pants from 8 am to 4 pm (the prison’s operating or business hours). I had been working in the Rec. yard and was getting hot (Taft is pretty warm, and this was in May). I went back to the dorm to change. I was in a hurry and forgot to tuck in my shirt on my way back out. I probably took 15 steps out of the door before I remembered that I hadn’t tucked in my shirt. A guard was coming toward me and noticed my un-tucked shirt and accosted me about the infraction. The guard asked me for my card. I told him my card was in my locker. I was quite fortunate that I had left my ID card in my locker because he let me go without incident. Ironically, another rule, which I have a difficult time remembering, is to keep your ID card with you at all times. So, somehow I got away with violating one rule by violating another. That’s the way prison is sometimes: nonsensical.
Usually the punishment for not tucking in your shirt is extra work duty. The idea of extra duty is humorous because if every inmate did his job you would have nothing extra to do. The prison would be immaculate. I think about 1/3 of the inmates do no work whatsoever. So, rather than punish the guys who don’t work, they guys who forget to tuck in their shirts do the jobs of those guys who don’t work. It’s similar to the outside world. Still, it makes little sense to me.
Another rule that we need to follow here is that we are required to wear pants around the compound between 8 am and 4 pm. Failing to wear pants during this time can result in various disciplinary actions from a “shot” (a basic derogatory statement on your record), to not being allowed to eat. The punishment depends on where you are, what you are doing, and which guard catches you. If you go to work in shorts, you could get extra duty or a disciplinary “shot” depending on the guard. If you go to the chow hall in shorts, you probably will be send back to the dorm to change.
One of my favorite nonsensical rules is the prohibition from walking on the grass. I don’t know what the consequences would be if the rule were breached. The grass isn’t particularly nice, and I have seen inmates walk on it from time to time. I haven’t seen anyone punished for the infraction yet. Actually, very few inmates walk on the grass. So, the penalty must not be worth the infraction.
Another seemingly insignificant rule that has mild to severe consequences is that one must stand during the standing count. I’m not sure why we have to stand. Some guys think it is to make sure we are still alive. I think this is the way it’s always done, so it has become habit. We stand because as far as the guards know, we have always stood. The reason is no longer relevant. I personally think it is just another way to dehumanize the prisoners. My dad allegedly violated this rule in his first few weeks in and had to do extra work duty. He and his bunkies claim he was standing the whole time. My dad got a mild punishment. You can get thrown into the “SHU,” the segregated housing unit, for not standing. It mostly depends on the guard, and the mood they are in. If you argue with the guard when you weren’t in your cube or asleep, you could get sent to segregated housing. This is usually the punishment for the guys who have been around. The newer guys, like my dad, get extra duty.
I’m sure most of these rules seem petty. They are, for the most part. However, learning and following the rules are part of the learning process every inmate experiences, and since we are here for not following society’s rules, it’s probably a good thing. If I had followed the rules at my job, I wouldn’t be here. These rules are easy to follow. Tucking in one’s shirt is not complicated, but it does make a guy be part of a system and requires humility. You feel like a child being told to tuck in your shirt, or to stay off the grass. But, for the guys here who couldn’t be trusted with bigger rules, it’s a good place to start (even if the guards sometimes abuse their authority).
The little, insignificant, petty, arbitrary, and sometimes meaningless rules are still important. They are the easiest to ignore, bend, and break. Sometimes we break them so frequently that we forget a rule even exists. I’m continually reminded that my character and integrity start with the little rules in life. It might be a rule at work, such as “don’t leave the computer on when you leave.” Maybe it’s a rule at home, “never leave the toilet paper role empty.” These rules are there to show who has integrity and the respect for others. Those that do will follow the rules, even if doing some requires humility.
In prison, it’s easy to spot the selfish people. I have pointed this out before, but all one has to do is look at the rule breakers. Who cuts in line? Who walks on the grass? The inmate that doesn’t respect the institution with simple rules won’t respect the other inmates either. If you can’t trust someone to follow a simple rule, why would you trust them as a co-worker, partner, supervisor, or spouse? You can’t.
Jeff
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Little Rules (#35)
As one begins to become more acclimated to prison one starts to pick up on more of the subtle rules. There are rules as innocuous as how to make one’s bed. The prison handbook says your bed has to be made by 8 am. The dorm orderly, an inmate, determines what the correctly made bad should look like. The reason an inmate determines this is based on the weekly inspection. Either our dorm, or the dorm orderly, looks better to the guards if all the beds are made the same way. The guards who inspect the beds call this look “clean.” I was not making my bed correctly and I was subtly told to fix that. I wasn’t told how to make my bed “correctly” but I figured I should make it look like everyone else’s bed. For those who are curious to know how the prison bed should be made, you basically take the blanket that substitutes for a comforter and stuff it in the metal frame. The blanket then wraps around your mattress nice and snug with no ends hanging out. I think this is how they make beds in the military, but I wouldn’t know. Actually, if you go to a hotel an take the comforter off, that is what the prison bed would look like, except much smaller.
Another little rule I discovered was where to take a shower. I know, you think this would be obvious. But there are rules for this simple task as well just about everything we do. Our shower room has 8 shower stalls on each side. The stalls are lined up perfectly across from each other. If you stand with the water hitting your back, you would be looking directly into the stall across from you. We do have chest high doors, but I’m 5’6”, so the door isn’t higher than my chest than for most. Needless to say, it’s very annoying when someone is in a shower stall directly across from you. To avoid this, the rule is to take showers only on one side. Typically, new guys learn this in two ways, either by observation, like I did, or from various belligerent comments like, “Hey pervert, why are you watching me take a shower.”
There are a lot of rules about personal hygiene. The whole process of washing one’s clothes has rules. Keeping one’s cubicle clean has a set of guidelines. I typically don’t mop my cubicle as much as some other guys, but as a generic rule you should mop at least once a week.
The subtle little rules aren’t limited to hygiene. One good rule to follow is “don’t be the first person out of the door and the last person back in.” Obviously, someone has to be first, and someone has to be last. But, you don’t have to be that someone, or at least regularly. The guys know the system. Most of us don’t want to know when the yard is open because we are on a first name basis with the guard. The majority of inmates, if they want to avoid trouble, should wait until someone else goes out and get back to the dorm before a guard notices that you are last.
Another dorm rule that is of extreme importance is to never change the television channel. Again, leave this for the guys who have been around a while. Oddly, you can sit in someone’s chair (I wrote about how you get assigned chairs in an earlier blog), at least at our camp, anyway, unless they want to use it. Every inmate gets a chair. These are usually in your cube. The tv rooms have no chairs. If you want to watch tv, you have to bring your chair. The chairs are marked with your bunk assignment. Lots of guys leave their chairs in the tv rooms for several days. So, if a chair is empty, you can use it. However, don’t try putting your chair in a reserved tv room during movie night. That will get you in trouble just like changing the channel will. Strangely, with this fascination with tv rules, one would think that talking during a movie or tv show would be taboo. It’s not. I don’t get that one.
Most of these little rules seem petty, and they are. But, the bigger rule that encompasses all of these petty rules is that the little things matter. I’ve mentioned this a few times, and I think it’s because it’s a lesson I didn’t learn that got me here, and once I got here, I learned that people watch how you respond to the little things. Following even the most ridiculous of rules still shows what kind of person you are and how other inmates view you. One of the things the inmates here hate the most (besides a rat) is an inmate who thinks he is above the system, because he is better than the other inmates, or doesn’t believe that he is a criminal. By not following the simple, but oftentimes, petty and silly rules, the inmate portrays a self-righteous attitude that such pettiness does not apply to him. Such an inmate doesn’t get too many friends.
So, the little things matter in life and in prison. The little rules I discussed are handy for interpersonal relationships with other inmates. There are other rules that the institution places on us that are important to follow too. I’ll discuss these in the next installment.
Jeff
Another little rule I discovered was where to take a shower. I know, you think this would be obvious. But there are rules for this simple task as well just about everything we do. Our shower room has 8 shower stalls on each side. The stalls are lined up perfectly across from each other. If you stand with the water hitting your back, you would be looking directly into the stall across from you. We do have chest high doors, but I’m 5’6”, so the door isn’t higher than my chest than for most. Needless to say, it’s very annoying when someone is in a shower stall directly across from you. To avoid this, the rule is to take showers only on one side. Typically, new guys learn this in two ways, either by observation, like I did, or from various belligerent comments like, “Hey pervert, why are you watching me take a shower.”
There are a lot of rules about personal hygiene. The whole process of washing one’s clothes has rules. Keeping one’s cubicle clean has a set of guidelines. I typically don’t mop my cubicle as much as some other guys, but as a generic rule you should mop at least once a week.
The subtle little rules aren’t limited to hygiene. One good rule to follow is “don’t be the first person out of the door and the last person back in.” Obviously, someone has to be first, and someone has to be last. But, you don’t have to be that someone, or at least regularly. The guys know the system. Most of us don’t want to know when the yard is open because we are on a first name basis with the guard. The majority of inmates, if they want to avoid trouble, should wait until someone else goes out and get back to the dorm before a guard notices that you are last.
Another dorm rule that is of extreme importance is to never change the television channel. Again, leave this for the guys who have been around a while. Oddly, you can sit in someone’s chair (I wrote about how you get assigned chairs in an earlier blog), at least at our camp, anyway, unless they want to use it. Every inmate gets a chair. These are usually in your cube. The tv rooms have no chairs. If you want to watch tv, you have to bring your chair. The chairs are marked with your bunk assignment. Lots of guys leave their chairs in the tv rooms for several days. So, if a chair is empty, you can use it. However, don’t try putting your chair in a reserved tv room during movie night. That will get you in trouble just like changing the channel will. Strangely, with this fascination with tv rules, one would think that talking during a movie or tv show would be taboo. It’s not. I don’t get that one.
Most of these little rules seem petty, and they are. But, the bigger rule that encompasses all of these petty rules is that the little things matter. I’ve mentioned this a few times, and I think it’s because it’s a lesson I didn’t learn that got me here, and once I got here, I learned that people watch how you respond to the little things. Following even the most ridiculous of rules still shows what kind of person you are and how other inmates view you. One of the things the inmates here hate the most (besides a rat) is an inmate who thinks he is above the system, because he is better than the other inmates, or doesn’t believe that he is a criminal. By not following the simple, but oftentimes, petty and silly rules, the inmate portrays a self-righteous attitude that such pettiness does not apply to him. Such an inmate doesn’t get too many friends.
So, the little things matter in life and in prison. The little rules I discussed are handy for interpersonal relationships with other inmates. There are other rules that the institution places on us that are important to follow too. I’ll discuss these in the next installment.
Jeff
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Dealing with Other Inmates (#34)
This is part 3 of Jeff’s chronological story of his time.
You learn a lot from your bunkies (or “cellies”) about how to get by in prison. Not all of what your are told works. One of my bunkies was on his third prison sentence and had served in both federal and state prisons of different security levels at various times in his life. He taught me the most important lesson I’ve learned. You are instructed not to borrow anything or give anything of value from other inmates (I wrote about this in my second installment). Of course, borrowing, giving, and receiving items of value occurs all the time. It is so prevalent that I don’t think the guards could stop it. Sometimes the guards inadvertently take part in it. For example, some jobs that inmates are assigned will have access to rubber bands or paper clips. These are contraband. Yet, a rubber band or paper clip can be very helpful for storing food (like a bag of chips) or for, well, attaching paper together. One of the more ironic pieces of contraband that guards unwittingly partake in distributing is scotch tape. The mail room will seal your mail with scotch tape, which inmates are not allowed to have. Tape has quite a bit of value, mainly for attaching pictures to your locker.
So, you have this black market in various sundries, and trade occurs with people who are in a place for some transgression. You learn a lot about other inmates through this system, the same people with whom you will be doing your time. My first bunkie was a nice guy who would lend out cigarettes to the new inmates. He went into this arrangement without any expectation of anything in return. However, he would not tell the new inmate this, so after a few weeks, he would go back to that inmate and ask if he could spare a cigarette. He could tell by the response whether the guy was someone to be trusted. Some guys would not give him one. Others would gladly give him one. Still others would repay the cigarette without even being asked, a few giving him more than the one cigarette they had received.
I don’t think that the first and last types are qualities you learn. They reveal who you are. The second may to a degree be something you can learn, repay in kind what you owe. So, this helped me learn about myself and others around me. I try to repay more than I owe, that is, give something greater value in return. I think I just want to show my appreciation for the help offered me that I wanted to give back more than I received. Because of this, and because my first bunkie had been in for a while (they know everybody), I got a good reputation as a guy who can be trusted pretty quickly. I’m glad that I had that quality. Some guys will deny a return item, even when these items cost as little as a quarter, like a cigarette or a candy bar. This is the best investment you can make in prison, and this was the best lesson I learned in prison. Find out quickly whom you can trust.
On the outside, you can spend thousands of dollars to learn about whom to trust. You may make an investment in someone’s business, or help out a friend in a pinch. My brother is a banker, and he said if he could learn about which people would respond like this, he says the bank could save a lot of money from bad loans. Instead, people (and bankers) spend thousands of dollars and sometimes get excuses back. Budget is tight, or business just didn’t work out. Sorry, I have to buy a car, etc.
I made a similar comparison in a dating book I wrote (don’t look for it, it was never published). I believed that if you wanted to find out the true nature of a person, watch them when they drive. People tend to reveal their true nature while driving. I believe that because most often they are anonymous. They can cut people off, yell at them, curse, speed, and other selfish acts in the car. Lots of women would say that it is unfair to judge a guy that way (it was the guys who were mainly the jerks, but not always) and the argument was that they may drive like selfish jerks, but they treat their girlfriends differently. Eventually, they won’t. It’s their nature. If they are inherently selfish, they may hide it for a while, but it will come out.
Since I can’t dive a care while in prison, I have found a few other ways to learn about people’s character. A huge rule in most prisons is absolutely no cutting in line. However, at a prison camp this rule is not enforced by the inmates (the guards will sometimes enforce it, but they are not effective or consistent). At other higher security prisons you can get a beating for cutting in line. (I have heard that you can get a beating for reaching across the table for salt, but I’m thinking that is not is an exception rather than a regular occurrence). Because fighting is the fastest way to go to a higher security level, no one will get into a fight here. So, the punishment for breaking the rules (at least the inmates punishment) is removed, and many inmates cut in line. It’s just like my driving test for selfishness. If a guy will give other inmates the decency to respect the line, then how much more will they be trustworthy in bigger things. Not very much. Guys will say, that’s overreacting. After all, the food is terrible, and so it just saves a few minutes (we have to eat in 15 minutes). But, it’s the principal that matters, and it speaks volumes.
Which takes me to the next installment. The little things matter, everywhere, but much more so in prison.
Jeff
You learn a lot from your bunkies (or “cellies”) about how to get by in prison. Not all of what your are told works. One of my bunkies was on his third prison sentence and had served in both federal and state prisons of different security levels at various times in his life. He taught me the most important lesson I’ve learned. You are instructed not to borrow anything or give anything of value from other inmates (I wrote about this in my second installment). Of course, borrowing, giving, and receiving items of value occurs all the time. It is so prevalent that I don’t think the guards could stop it. Sometimes the guards inadvertently take part in it. For example, some jobs that inmates are assigned will have access to rubber bands or paper clips. These are contraband. Yet, a rubber band or paper clip can be very helpful for storing food (like a bag of chips) or for, well, attaching paper together. One of the more ironic pieces of contraband that guards unwittingly partake in distributing is scotch tape. The mail room will seal your mail with scotch tape, which inmates are not allowed to have. Tape has quite a bit of value, mainly for attaching pictures to your locker.
So, you have this black market in various sundries, and trade occurs with people who are in a place for some transgression. You learn a lot about other inmates through this system, the same people with whom you will be doing your time. My first bunkie was a nice guy who would lend out cigarettes to the new inmates. He went into this arrangement without any expectation of anything in return. However, he would not tell the new inmate this, so after a few weeks, he would go back to that inmate and ask if he could spare a cigarette. He could tell by the response whether the guy was someone to be trusted. Some guys would not give him one. Others would gladly give him one. Still others would repay the cigarette without even being asked, a few giving him more than the one cigarette they had received.
I don’t think that the first and last types are qualities you learn. They reveal who you are. The second may to a degree be something you can learn, repay in kind what you owe. So, this helped me learn about myself and others around me. I try to repay more than I owe, that is, give something greater value in return. I think I just want to show my appreciation for the help offered me that I wanted to give back more than I received. Because of this, and because my first bunkie had been in for a while (they know everybody), I got a good reputation as a guy who can be trusted pretty quickly. I’m glad that I had that quality. Some guys will deny a return item, even when these items cost as little as a quarter, like a cigarette or a candy bar. This is the best investment you can make in prison, and this was the best lesson I learned in prison. Find out quickly whom you can trust.
On the outside, you can spend thousands of dollars to learn about whom to trust. You may make an investment in someone’s business, or help out a friend in a pinch. My brother is a banker, and he said if he could learn about which people would respond like this, he says the bank could save a lot of money from bad loans. Instead, people (and bankers) spend thousands of dollars and sometimes get excuses back. Budget is tight, or business just didn’t work out. Sorry, I have to buy a car, etc.
I made a similar comparison in a dating book I wrote (don’t look for it, it was never published). I believed that if you wanted to find out the true nature of a person, watch them when they drive. People tend to reveal their true nature while driving. I believe that because most often they are anonymous. They can cut people off, yell at them, curse, speed, and other selfish acts in the car. Lots of women would say that it is unfair to judge a guy that way (it was the guys who were mainly the jerks, but not always) and the argument was that they may drive like selfish jerks, but they treat their girlfriends differently. Eventually, they won’t. It’s their nature. If they are inherently selfish, they may hide it for a while, but it will come out.
Since I can’t dive a care while in prison, I have found a few other ways to learn about people’s character. A huge rule in most prisons is absolutely no cutting in line. However, at a prison camp this rule is not enforced by the inmates (the guards will sometimes enforce it, but they are not effective or consistent). At other higher security prisons you can get a beating for cutting in line. (I have heard that you can get a beating for reaching across the table for salt, but I’m thinking that is not is an exception rather than a regular occurrence). Because fighting is the fastest way to go to a higher security level, no one will get into a fight here. So, the punishment for breaking the rules (at least the inmates punishment) is removed, and many inmates cut in line. It’s just like my driving test for selfishness. If a guy will give other inmates the decency to respect the line, then how much more will they be trustworthy in bigger things. Not very much. Guys will say, that’s overreacting. After all, the food is terrible, and so it just saves a few minutes (we have to eat in 15 minutes). But, it’s the principal that matters, and it speaks volumes.
Which takes me to the next installment. The little things matter, everywhere, but much more so in prison.
Jeff
Monday, February 18, 2008
Quarterly Update (#33)
I’ve been writing about some tips and rules that I have learned that have helped me get through my prison sentence. I will still write about those things, but every 3 months, I want to update the recent events about my time here. Jan. 13th, was the end of my 3rd quarter here at Taft. I’ve completed 9 months of my 3 year sentence. (10 months now, I posted this a bit late. - Scott)
The past three months were what I will call “holiday time.” It’s the toughest time of the year for most of the guys. The first holiday in the past three months was (of the third quarter) was Halloween. Since I have two young boys, Halloween is becoming a bigger event in my life than it had previously been in my household. My kids get excited about their costumes and getting candy. I spent a lot of time drawing pictures of haunted houses, jack-o-lanterns, etc, and I even wrote a little story for them about a witch who ran out of spells. It’s fun for me to be able to participate in these events in their lives, even though I’m not present physically.
At Taft, Halloween night was sort of a non-event. I think the weekend before Halloween, we had a few scary movies, but they cannot be rated R, so they probably weren’t that bad. I didn’t watch any of them, so I don’t know.
Thanksgiving was the next holiday, and there was much more ballyhoo surrounding that at the camp. There were no sports leagues going during that time, but the camp put on several special sports competitions. We had a big inter dorm soccer game. My dorm challenged another dorm and it was a very popular event. Over the weekend there was also a flag football game, and even a softball game (it was the Fall after all – and not baseball season). We also had a special Thanksgiving meal as well. It was not too bad. We had turkey with stuffing, corn on the cob, dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. Oddly, they did not serve mashed potatoes. WE did have green beans and a salad as well, but we have that frequently.
The weather also started to cool down around Thanksgiving and we had some pretty cold days in December. I was thankful for that. I don’t care for the hot weather, and I know it is coming soon. In December we started to get into the Christmas spirit. Christmas is really the only time that the staff here allows the prisoners to do any sort of celebrating. They actually encouraged us to decorate and had a contest for the best decorations and Christmas card. We also had caroling, talent shows, and other festivities. I think I would have enjoyed this normally, but there are too many inmates who complain about everything and sort of make is a chore rather than something that we don’t usually get to do. I helped decorate our dorm, but we had too many supervisors and not enough decorators. When no one can agree on where a decoration should go, it sort of defeats the spirit of the season. I got frustrated. So, after a few hours, I gave up. I tried the Christmas card contest, but I didn’t win. But, it was fun to make cards for my family.
The highlight for most of the inmates is the “Christmas bag” that the guards give the inmates. This was kind of highly anticipated, and so I was getting a bit anxious myself. Essentially, the Christmas bag was a bunch of sample size snacks and treats. The kind of size you would get at Halloween or on an airplane, with similar type snacks. Some candy bars, pretzels, cookies, chips, etc. On the black market, these were going for $6, which is pretty cheap compared to prior years where guys said that they could fetch $20 pretty regularly. I don’t want to complain, and this was my first bag, so for me, it was fun to get something. We also got a special Christmas dinner, but not quite as elaborate as Thanksgiving. We did get mashed potatoes, but no pie.
For me, Christmas was much more difficult to deal with emotionally than was Thanksgiving. Although the Christmas music, shows, and the like don’t focus on Christ, they do focus on being with family, and the constant reminders that the inmates are not with family make it a hard time for many of the men, including me. During Thanksgiving, I had similar emotions, but only for one day. The Christmas season and emotions pretty much start right after Thanksgiving. So, it is much harder to distance yourself from the emotions for 30 days. I was blessed to have my mom visit on Christmas Day. I didn’t really want my wife and kids to visit on Christmas Day, because I thought it would be a miserable way to spend Christmas for them. My wife would have to stay in Taft, probably away from her family, alone. That’s not fun. I don’t want my kids to remember Christmas as time in a hotel in Taft. Although, I was very thankful to have my mom visit because it helped me get through the day. Only one more Christmas to go, which brings me to New Years.
The biggest celebration that I have seen so far (covering Easter, Cinco De Mayo, Independence Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas) is New Year’s Eve. This surpassed Christmas by far. Lots of guys cooked and bought all kinds of snacks and stayed up to ring in the new year. I think the start of a new year has considerable significance to those behind bars. It’s the beginning of the year that brings you one more closer to release. It’s a huge psychological boost. The opposite of what most feel at Christmas. At the beginning of a New Year some can say, “I’m going home this year,” or “only one more year.” That sort of thing. Even though only 1 more day has passed, it’s seems to be a huge milestone. I know for me, getting through 2007 was a huge milestone.
The other news that has helped me get through the time here is my new job. I go out to a church in Taft and do janitorial type, some landscaping, and maintenance work with four other guys. The work can be tough, but it does pass the time. We also get fed very well compared to other inmates. We typically get hamburgers, Mexican food, Chinese food, chicken or pizza, and sandwiches. I do this five days a week, and it’s about as normal I have felt in the past 8 months. My first day going on the “out” crew was Dec. 20th. I think getting a normal meal was about the best Christmas present I could have asked for here. In addition, the church prepared an awesome Christmas dinner for us, and that was quite nice.
From Dec. 20 – Jan. 2 we went out 5 days (out of a possible 10 days). We go out every day now. This little church has a prison ministry and I like how they give the men an opportunity to feel productive and useful. The church is Westside Believers Fellowship if you want to look it up. I wouldn’t mind the readers giving them a thank you for me and the prisoners for their ministry to us. If you want to donate to the Taft out crew, I’ll have my brother link to the church website from my blog. I think the church would be really surprised by that.
My youngest son turned 2 in mid-December as well. This day did not bother me as much as the day when my oldest son turned 5 back in Sept. I don’t think my younger son quite knows what his birthday is so it doesn’t bother me as much to not be there for it. I’m sure that when he turns 3 in another year, it will be harder, but by then I will be close to release and won’t have to miss his 4th birthday. I will also be around for my oldest son’s 7th birthday, and that will help with missing the coming birthdays this year.
All in all, for this quarterly update, I’m glad that 2007 is behind me.
Jeff
The past three months were what I will call “holiday time.” It’s the toughest time of the year for most of the guys. The first holiday in the past three months was (of the third quarter) was Halloween. Since I have two young boys, Halloween is becoming a bigger event in my life than it had previously been in my household. My kids get excited about their costumes and getting candy. I spent a lot of time drawing pictures of haunted houses, jack-o-lanterns, etc, and I even wrote a little story for them about a witch who ran out of spells. It’s fun for me to be able to participate in these events in their lives, even though I’m not present physically.
At Taft, Halloween night was sort of a non-event. I think the weekend before Halloween, we had a few scary movies, but they cannot be rated R, so they probably weren’t that bad. I didn’t watch any of them, so I don’t know.
Thanksgiving was the next holiday, and there was much more ballyhoo surrounding that at the camp. There were no sports leagues going during that time, but the camp put on several special sports competitions. We had a big inter dorm soccer game. My dorm challenged another dorm and it was a very popular event. Over the weekend there was also a flag football game, and even a softball game (it was the Fall after all – and not baseball season). We also had a special Thanksgiving meal as well. It was not too bad. We had turkey with stuffing, corn on the cob, dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. Oddly, they did not serve mashed potatoes. WE did have green beans and a salad as well, but we have that frequently.
The weather also started to cool down around Thanksgiving and we had some pretty cold days in December. I was thankful for that. I don’t care for the hot weather, and I know it is coming soon. In December we started to get into the Christmas spirit. Christmas is really the only time that the staff here allows the prisoners to do any sort of celebrating. They actually encouraged us to decorate and had a contest for the best decorations and Christmas card. We also had caroling, talent shows, and other festivities. I think I would have enjoyed this normally, but there are too many inmates who complain about everything and sort of make is a chore rather than something that we don’t usually get to do. I helped decorate our dorm, but we had too many supervisors and not enough decorators. When no one can agree on where a decoration should go, it sort of defeats the spirit of the season. I got frustrated. So, after a few hours, I gave up. I tried the Christmas card contest, but I didn’t win. But, it was fun to make cards for my family.
The highlight for most of the inmates is the “Christmas bag” that the guards give the inmates. This was kind of highly anticipated, and so I was getting a bit anxious myself. Essentially, the Christmas bag was a bunch of sample size snacks and treats. The kind of size you would get at Halloween or on an airplane, with similar type snacks. Some candy bars, pretzels, cookies, chips, etc. On the black market, these were going for $6, which is pretty cheap compared to prior years where guys said that they could fetch $20 pretty regularly. I don’t want to complain, and this was my first bag, so for me, it was fun to get something. We also got a special Christmas dinner, but not quite as elaborate as Thanksgiving. We did get mashed potatoes, but no pie.
For me, Christmas was much more difficult to deal with emotionally than was Thanksgiving. Although the Christmas music, shows, and the like don’t focus on Christ, they do focus on being with family, and the constant reminders that the inmates are not with family make it a hard time for many of the men, including me. During Thanksgiving, I had similar emotions, but only for one day. The Christmas season and emotions pretty much start right after Thanksgiving. So, it is much harder to distance yourself from the emotions for 30 days. I was blessed to have my mom visit on Christmas Day. I didn’t really want my wife and kids to visit on Christmas Day, because I thought it would be a miserable way to spend Christmas for them. My wife would have to stay in Taft, probably away from her family, alone. That’s not fun. I don’t want my kids to remember Christmas as time in a hotel in Taft. Although, I was very thankful to have my mom visit because it helped me get through the day. Only one more Christmas to go, which brings me to New Years.
The biggest celebration that I have seen so far (covering Easter, Cinco De Mayo, Independence Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas) is New Year’s Eve. This surpassed Christmas by far. Lots of guys cooked and bought all kinds of snacks and stayed up to ring in the new year. I think the start of a new year has considerable significance to those behind bars. It’s the beginning of the year that brings you one more closer to release. It’s a huge psychological boost. The opposite of what most feel at Christmas. At the beginning of a New Year some can say, “I’m going home this year,” or “only one more year.” That sort of thing. Even though only 1 more day has passed, it’s seems to be a huge milestone. I know for me, getting through 2007 was a huge milestone.
The other news that has helped me get through the time here is my new job. I go out to a church in Taft and do janitorial type, some landscaping, and maintenance work with four other guys. The work can be tough, but it does pass the time. We also get fed very well compared to other inmates. We typically get hamburgers, Mexican food, Chinese food, chicken or pizza, and sandwiches. I do this five days a week, and it’s about as normal I have felt in the past 8 months. My first day going on the “out” crew was Dec. 20th. I think getting a normal meal was about the best Christmas present I could have asked for here. In addition, the church prepared an awesome Christmas dinner for us, and that was quite nice.
From Dec. 20 – Jan. 2 we went out 5 days (out of a possible 10 days). We go out every day now. This little church has a prison ministry and I like how they give the men an opportunity to feel productive and useful. The church is Westside Believers Fellowship if you want to look it up. I wouldn’t mind the readers giving them a thank you for me and the prisoners for their ministry to us. If you want to donate to the Taft out crew, I’ll have my brother link to the church website from my blog. I think the church would be really surprised by that.
My youngest son turned 2 in mid-December as well. This day did not bother me as much as the day when my oldest son turned 5 back in Sept. I don’t think my younger son quite knows what his birthday is so it doesn’t bother me as much to not be there for it. I’m sure that when he turns 3 in another year, it will be harder, but by then I will be close to release and won’t have to miss his 4th birthday. I will also be around for my oldest son’s 7th birthday, and that will help with missing the coming birthdays this year.
All in all, for this quarterly update, I’m glad that 2007 is behind me.
Jeff
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Typical Day II (#32)
Here is a blog that I forgot to post. It's a bit old, but this was what Jeff's day was like up unitl about 2 months ago. Now he is on an out crew and works at a church cleaning up the place. It's about an 8 hour job every weekday. Jeff says the work is somewhat redundant, but at least he feels like a normal person getting out of the compound and into the town. I have a quarterly update from Jeff coming soon as well. Now on to the blog.
I wrote a entry a while back about a typical day. I didn’t complete that blog because it was getting long. I believe I left off at about the time lunch ended. (My brother’s day has since changed dramatically. He is now on an out crew, where he goes to a church and cleans up the place, such as mopping, moving chairs for events, cleaning bathrooms, etc. He has written about this, I just haven’t entered it on the blog yet). Most of the days are filled with your work assignment (at this time my brother was handing out recreational equipment). I’m fortunate that I work in the mornings. Technically, I work from 8 am to 2 pm, but I’m only at my job from 6:15 – 8:15 am. Some guys have to go back to work at noon, when they finish lunch. I don’t have to do that. So, I have from noon to 4 pm for free time. That sounds nice, but prison is pretty boring. This is the hardest time for me to fill. One reason for this is that 5 months out of the year it’s too hot outside to do much exercise. Some guys really like the heat. I’m not one of them. (When I visited in July, as some of the readers may recall, the temperature was 111 degrees. It wasn’t pleasant. – Scott). So, during this time, I try to write a letter or do a craft project. After a while, writing hurts my hand, so I try to mix in some reading and study. I read my advertising and marketing textbooks, and sometimes a novel or a magazine. I have to digress here about magazines. It is fascinating the part magazines play in prison.
One of the most interesting things about prison culture is the way magazines get shared (a little like comics, but I’m a bit more protective of comics). We have three trash cans at the front of our dorm. When someone finishes a magazine or newspaper they leave it on the garbage can. I glance through tons of magazines here mainly to find stuff I can use to make a craft for my wife of kids. I had noticed that the address labels on the magazines were torn off. I asked someone why they did that, I thought it was because they didn’t want others to know who was subscribing to what magazines. The reason is far more interesting. You are not allowed to have another inmates property in your cube. You will get a disciplinary notice if you do. So, the inmates tear their names off of the magazines so that if a guard sees you with a magazine, they cannot determine ownership.
I have also seen some crazy magazines (adult magazines are not allowed, by the way). One of my favorite odd titles was not for its content, but for its title was “Trailer Life.” I couldn’t wait to read about trailer park living. Well, it was about RV’s, and I still can’t believe that there is a magazine for that, much less what I thought it would be. There was another one about log homes, the whole thing was about that. I’ve even seen a magazine about fashion. Although, for pure selection, your local Borders or Barnes and Noble have a greater variety. Although I have read magazines called “Star Wars Insider” and “Toy Faire.” Excellent stuff.
After reading and writing for a few hours, I can get through to 4 pm. At 4pm they do mail call. Mail call is simply passing out the mail. But some guards make even this simple task painful. They will insist on butchering names and only issuing mail to the name on the mail. It’s far more efficient to have the inmates grab it and pass it out to their bunkie or friends. They know where they are during the day, whereas the guards do not. One time I had to show my ID card to get my mail. After mail call, we have a count. I’m usually reading a newspaper or my mail up to and through the count. There are only two newspapers that arrive daily, the USA Today, and the Wall St. Journal. I get the USA Today, and I trade that for the Wall St. Journal. This way, I get both papers.
Now it’s dinner time, around 4:30. We have a five week rotation for food. The lunches are usually better than the dinners. With the new management group that took over in mid-August, the dinner fare now comes with liver. We get liver twice over the 5 weeks. In compensation for that, we get pizza twice over the 5 weeks as well. All in all, the food is okay. It get repetitive, but I don’t mind it. Except for the liver. (Jeff now eats while out on work crew. He gets more normal meals, such as Chinese food, pizza from a local place, and sometimes even a hamburger and fries. He says this is the best thing about work crew, normal outside food.)
After dinner is another block of free time. The prison gives us about 15 minutes to eat, so we finish dinner before 5 pm. The evenings, however, have more activities for the inmates because the inmates are done with their jobs. Usually there is a softball, soccer, or basketball game. Softball appears to be the most popular sport here. I watch it occasionally if a friend is playing. More often than not I walk the track after dinner. Most of the bible studies are in the evenings as well. Lights go out at about 10:15 pm. You can still go to the tv rooms and watch tv most of the night. However, the “yard” meaning the library, and indoor and outdoor recreation areas close at 9:15 pm. At this point you are locked in your dorm until about 6 am.
So, what do I do to entertain myself. I’ve probably discussed most of the activities before, but here are a few things I probably haven’t mentioned. Friday night is movie night. This didn’t mean much to me when I first arrived because most of the DVD releases in the summer aren’t very good (see previous blogs about the tv rooms and movies - Scott). The Fall brings with it the summer new movie releases that are now on DVD. So, in October and November, we had some decent movies. So, when these two times a year (Fall and Spring (after the Christmas releases) movie night becomes more of an event.
Friday mornings are the weekly inspections. This doesn’t involve me much, but it has an impact on me. Basically, all I do clean (mop and sweep) my cube for the inspection. However, if we win (this is based on overall cleanliness of the dorm compared to other dorms) three things happen. The main one is that the entire dorm gets 1 soda and a bag of popcorn each. We also get to eat first. Lastly, the order in which you finish determines which day you shop. It’s nice to go to the commissary with it is fully stocked.
We got to shop one day a week. This is not like your grocery store or Target. It’s like going to 7-11, but with only 1 aisle to shop from. I can only buy 4 types of candy bars and 3 types of soda. This is considered a very good commissary from some guys who have been around. I really like Dr. Pepper, but I can’t buy that here. Maybe that’s a good thing. They don’t sell tartar control toothpaste either. It’s strange dealing with a limited supply of stuff. Maybe this is what communist Russia felt like. Nevertheless, shopping is a highlight of the week for most of the guys. It allows them to buy stuff to cook in the dorms (Some guys never go to the cafeteria to eat). I don’t place as high a value on shopping, but it is a nice distraction.
The athletic leagues are a significant way to consume time as well. I have greatly enjoyed playing semi-competitive soccer again. It takes your mind off of the routine here. That’s the main thing here. The routine will get you through the time, but the distractions keep you sane during the routines.
Jeff
I wrote a entry a while back about a typical day. I didn’t complete that blog because it was getting long. I believe I left off at about the time lunch ended. (My brother’s day has since changed dramatically. He is now on an out crew, where he goes to a church and cleans up the place, such as mopping, moving chairs for events, cleaning bathrooms, etc. He has written about this, I just haven’t entered it on the blog yet). Most of the days are filled with your work assignment (at this time my brother was handing out recreational equipment). I’m fortunate that I work in the mornings. Technically, I work from 8 am to 2 pm, but I’m only at my job from 6:15 – 8:15 am. Some guys have to go back to work at noon, when they finish lunch. I don’t have to do that. So, I have from noon to 4 pm for free time. That sounds nice, but prison is pretty boring. This is the hardest time for me to fill. One reason for this is that 5 months out of the year it’s too hot outside to do much exercise. Some guys really like the heat. I’m not one of them. (When I visited in July, as some of the readers may recall, the temperature was 111 degrees. It wasn’t pleasant. – Scott). So, during this time, I try to write a letter or do a craft project. After a while, writing hurts my hand, so I try to mix in some reading and study. I read my advertising and marketing textbooks, and sometimes a novel or a magazine. I have to digress here about magazines. It is fascinating the part magazines play in prison.
One of the most interesting things about prison culture is the way magazines get shared (a little like comics, but I’m a bit more protective of comics). We have three trash cans at the front of our dorm. When someone finishes a magazine or newspaper they leave it on the garbage can. I glance through tons of magazines here mainly to find stuff I can use to make a craft for my wife of kids. I had noticed that the address labels on the magazines were torn off. I asked someone why they did that, I thought it was because they didn’t want others to know who was subscribing to what magazines. The reason is far more interesting. You are not allowed to have another inmates property in your cube. You will get a disciplinary notice if you do. So, the inmates tear their names off of the magazines so that if a guard sees you with a magazine, they cannot determine ownership.
I have also seen some crazy magazines (adult magazines are not allowed, by the way). One of my favorite odd titles was not for its content, but for its title was “Trailer Life.” I couldn’t wait to read about trailer park living. Well, it was about RV’s, and I still can’t believe that there is a magazine for that, much less what I thought it would be. There was another one about log homes, the whole thing was about that. I’ve even seen a magazine about fashion. Although, for pure selection, your local Borders or Barnes and Noble have a greater variety. Although I have read magazines called “Star Wars Insider” and “Toy Faire.” Excellent stuff.
After reading and writing for a few hours, I can get through to 4 pm. At 4pm they do mail call. Mail call is simply passing out the mail. But some guards make even this simple task painful. They will insist on butchering names and only issuing mail to the name on the mail. It’s far more efficient to have the inmates grab it and pass it out to their bunkie or friends. They know where they are during the day, whereas the guards do not. One time I had to show my ID card to get my mail. After mail call, we have a count. I’m usually reading a newspaper or my mail up to and through the count. There are only two newspapers that arrive daily, the USA Today, and the Wall St. Journal. I get the USA Today, and I trade that for the Wall St. Journal. This way, I get both papers.
Now it’s dinner time, around 4:30. We have a five week rotation for food. The lunches are usually better than the dinners. With the new management group that took over in mid-August, the dinner fare now comes with liver. We get liver twice over the 5 weeks. In compensation for that, we get pizza twice over the 5 weeks as well. All in all, the food is okay. It get repetitive, but I don’t mind it. Except for the liver. (Jeff now eats while out on work crew. He gets more normal meals, such as Chinese food, pizza from a local place, and sometimes even a hamburger and fries. He says this is the best thing about work crew, normal outside food.)
After dinner is another block of free time. The prison gives us about 15 minutes to eat, so we finish dinner before 5 pm. The evenings, however, have more activities for the inmates because the inmates are done with their jobs. Usually there is a softball, soccer, or basketball game. Softball appears to be the most popular sport here. I watch it occasionally if a friend is playing. More often than not I walk the track after dinner. Most of the bible studies are in the evenings as well. Lights go out at about 10:15 pm. You can still go to the tv rooms and watch tv most of the night. However, the “yard” meaning the library, and indoor and outdoor recreation areas close at 9:15 pm. At this point you are locked in your dorm until about 6 am.
So, what do I do to entertain myself. I’ve probably discussed most of the activities before, but here are a few things I probably haven’t mentioned. Friday night is movie night. This didn’t mean much to me when I first arrived because most of the DVD releases in the summer aren’t very good (see previous blogs about the tv rooms and movies - Scott). The Fall brings with it the summer new movie releases that are now on DVD. So, in October and November, we had some decent movies. So, when these two times a year (Fall and Spring (after the Christmas releases) movie night becomes more of an event.
Friday mornings are the weekly inspections. This doesn’t involve me much, but it has an impact on me. Basically, all I do clean (mop and sweep) my cube for the inspection. However, if we win (this is based on overall cleanliness of the dorm compared to other dorms) three things happen. The main one is that the entire dorm gets 1 soda and a bag of popcorn each. We also get to eat first. Lastly, the order in which you finish determines which day you shop. It’s nice to go to the commissary with it is fully stocked.
We got to shop one day a week. This is not like your grocery store or Target. It’s like going to 7-11, but with only 1 aisle to shop from. I can only buy 4 types of candy bars and 3 types of soda. This is considered a very good commissary from some guys who have been around. I really like Dr. Pepper, but I can’t buy that here. Maybe that’s a good thing. They don’t sell tartar control toothpaste either. It’s strange dealing with a limited supply of stuff. Maybe this is what communist Russia felt like. Nevertheless, shopping is a highlight of the week for most of the guys. It allows them to buy stuff to cook in the dorms (Some guys never go to the cafeteria to eat). I don’t place as high a value on shopping, but it is a nice distraction.
The athletic leagues are a significant way to consume time as well. I have greatly enjoyed playing semi-competitive soccer again. It takes your mind off of the routine here. That’s the main thing here. The routine will get you through the time, but the distractions keep you sane during the routines.
Jeff
Monday, January 14, 2008
The Dorm (#31)
The posts are now in a chronoligical order. I did forget to post one about a typical day part II. I'll squeeze that in at some point, when I am able to type it up. Scott
The Dorm
After I got some stuff from the tithe box, I made my way to the dorm. The stuff I got is relevant is it pertains to some other tips for surviving prison. The single most important possession a prisoner needs is a shower shoes. The unwritten rule adhered to by all inmates is to never take a shower without them. I will not go into detail as to why, but trust me when I say they are essential. I also got a soap dish, deodorant, and a toothbrush holder. I was now supposedly prepared to enter my living arrangement. The dorm is like a college dorm. The main difference is that you do not live in a closed off room. You have a cubicle much like you would have in an office building. Our dorm has about 68 cubicles. Some of these cubicles have three inmates, while others have two. The cubicles are the same size regardless of the number of inmates they hold. New guys are assigned to cubicles with three men that are generally located across from the bathroom or by the tv room. These cubicles are also toward the front of the dorm, near the entrance. The front of the dorm is where the tv rooms, phones, laundry, guard desk, and microwave are located. The point is that these cubicles are close to the noisier parts of the dorm, and the new guys suffer for being new.
As a new person, you are generally ignored. I didn’t understand this at first, but I do now that I have been around. So many people come and go that you can’t keep track of them all. Some guys are here for 30 days, and by the time you figure out their name, they are gone. Some of the longer-term guys won’t talk to new guys unless they have a least a 1 year sentence. It makes sense. It’s a lot of emotional energy to meet the new guys and find that they are going to leave in two weeks. One guy was sentenced to 13 days. This was quite humorous to everyone. He was almost nonexistent. He wouldn’t be assigned to a job, would not have a meeting with a counselor or case manager, and wouldn’t even get a medical exam in that time. My guess is that if he simply walked away no one would have known he was gone.
I arrived on a Friday evening, which is movie night. As I wandered around the dorm, I noticed guys putting their chairs into a tv room. I was about to go inside when a guy stopped me and said, “you can’t go in there. It’s assigned seating. Someone has to loan you their seat.” That was my first introduction to the tv room. I had read before coming to prison that one should never borrow something from another inmate. A few guys did offer to lend me their seats that night. I told them no, following this rule, thinking that if I did take them up on their chairs, I would see them a week later asking me to buy something for them. It turns out that this is sage advice. Of course, there are exceptions.
You learn fairly quickly which guys you can trust and which ones you cannot. Usually your bunkies will lend you some token items to get you through. I borrowed a couple of stamps and a pen from my first bunkies. Of course, if you borrow something, pay it back and give a little extra. I think this is a good rule for life in general, but in prison, it is my unalterable law. This establishes a positive reputation of being a borrower who can be trusted. After all, trust in prison is a valuable commodity. Even if you think you will never need to ask for anything from anyone, you will find a time that you need something and have to borrow it. Borrowing isn’t bad, if you follow the simple rules of knowing from whom you are borrowing and paying back promptly and with a little interest. In fact, that kind of borrowing, like a credit score, actually makes life a little easier and establishes trust.
Of course, if people are borrowing then others are lending. You can get burned pretty easily by lending out things. The rule is don’t lend to people you don’t trust. Of course there are situations where people make requests and you don’t know them very well, but you want to help or make a good impression to establish a trust. I lost a few sodas and candy bars giving them to people and never getting a thing in return. In spite of what you may think, those are somewhat valuable commodities here. But, for about $2.00 (about two days wages) I learned a valuable lesson about who I can trust with bigger things, like my life. That’s a pretty cheap investment even by prison standards. The guys who borrow and don’t repay end up without friends quickly.
There are situations where I give willingly and expecting nothing in return. Usually these situations are to other Christians who need something or an outreach to a struggling new person with whom want to establish some rapport. In those cases, it’s best to just be blunt and say, “Hey, this is a gift. You don’t need to repay me anything. I just want to help out.” So many guys are out to scam you that you have to say this or they will think like I did, that this person will come back and want something later.These are some of the basic rules about interacting with other inmates. I would learn more as I became more immersed in the culture.
The Dorm
After I got some stuff from the tithe box, I made my way to the dorm. The stuff I got is relevant is it pertains to some other tips for surviving prison. The single most important possession a prisoner needs is a shower shoes. The unwritten rule adhered to by all inmates is to never take a shower without them. I will not go into detail as to why, but trust me when I say they are essential. I also got a soap dish, deodorant, and a toothbrush holder. I was now supposedly prepared to enter my living arrangement. The dorm is like a college dorm. The main difference is that you do not live in a closed off room. You have a cubicle much like you would have in an office building. Our dorm has about 68 cubicles. Some of these cubicles have three inmates, while others have two. The cubicles are the same size regardless of the number of inmates they hold. New guys are assigned to cubicles with three men that are generally located across from the bathroom or by the tv room. These cubicles are also toward the front of the dorm, near the entrance. The front of the dorm is where the tv rooms, phones, laundry, guard desk, and microwave are located. The point is that these cubicles are close to the noisier parts of the dorm, and the new guys suffer for being new.
As a new person, you are generally ignored. I didn’t understand this at first, but I do now that I have been around. So many people come and go that you can’t keep track of them all. Some guys are here for 30 days, and by the time you figure out their name, they are gone. Some of the longer-term guys won’t talk to new guys unless they have a least a 1 year sentence. It makes sense. It’s a lot of emotional energy to meet the new guys and find that they are going to leave in two weeks. One guy was sentenced to 13 days. This was quite humorous to everyone. He was almost nonexistent. He wouldn’t be assigned to a job, would not have a meeting with a counselor or case manager, and wouldn’t even get a medical exam in that time. My guess is that if he simply walked away no one would have known he was gone.
I arrived on a Friday evening, which is movie night. As I wandered around the dorm, I noticed guys putting their chairs into a tv room. I was about to go inside when a guy stopped me and said, “you can’t go in there. It’s assigned seating. Someone has to loan you their seat.” That was my first introduction to the tv room. I had read before coming to prison that one should never borrow something from another inmate. A few guys did offer to lend me their seats that night. I told them no, following this rule, thinking that if I did take them up on their chairs, I would see them a week later asking me to buy something for them. It turns out that this is sage advice. Of course, there are exceptions.
You learn fairly quickly which guys you can trust and which ones you cannot. Usually your bunkies will lend you some token items to get you through. I borrowed a couple of stamps and a pen from my first bunkies. Of course, if you borrow something, pay it back and give a little extra. I think this is a good rule for life in general, but in prison, it is my unalterable law. This establishes a positive reputation of being a borrower who can be trusted. After all, trust in prison is a valuable commodity. Even if you think you will never need to ask for anything from anyone, you will find a time that you need something and have to borrow it. Borrowing isn’t bad, if you follow the simple rules of knowing from whom you are borrowing and paying back promptly and with a little interest. In fact, that kind of borrowing, like a credit score, actually makes life a little easier and establishes trust.
Of course, if people are borrowing then others are lending. You can get burned pretty easily by lending out things. The rule is don’t lend to people you don’t trust. Of course there are situations where people make requests and you don’t know them very well, but you want to help or make a good impression to establish a trust. I lost a few sodas and candy bars giving them to people and never getting a thing in return. In spite of what you may think, those are somewhat valuable commodities here. But, for about $2.00 (about two days wages) I learned a valuable lesson about who I can trust with bigger things, like my life. That’s a pretty cheap investment even by prison standards. The guys who borrow and don’t repay end up without friends quickly.
There are situations where I give willingly and expecting nothing in return. Usually these situations are to other Christians who need something or an outreach to a struggling new person with whom want to establish some rapport. In those cases, it’s best to just be blunt and say, “Hey, this is a gift. You don’t need to repay me anything. I just want to help out.” So many guys are out to scam you that you have to say this or they will think like I did, that this person will come back and want something later.These are some of the basic rules about interacting with other inmates. I would learn more as I became more immersed in the culture.
First Day (#30)
Jeff decided to take his readers through the details of his entry into prison. He wants to tell more of the story of his imprisonment. So, here is the first installment.
First Day
When I first walked into the prison here at Taft, the rules started immediately. The first rule that I recall I learned from an odd situation. After replacing the clothes was wearing with an oversized t-shirt, boxers, and a humiliating orange jumpsuit, I was put into a sound proof room with benches and a toilet. I was with two other guys. Occasionally we talked, but we mostly just sat there in the silent shock that comes with realizing that we were in beginning a new life in prison. As the three of us sat there, exchanging silent stares or nervous banter, we noticed a guard frantically waving their arms at us and angrily yelling something through the soundproof windows. I looked at them in confusion, because I obviously could not hear them. Then the gesticulating started with increasing levels of crimson on their faces. After playing this silly game of charades, it occurred to me that they wanted us to stand up. I told the other two prisoners that this song and dance the guard was doing meant that we needed to stand up. So, we stood up and the guard was relieved. I later learned that at that time of the day, all the prisoners are required to do a standing count. I have no idea why standing is the preferred position for the inmates, but nevertheless, the inmates must stand up, even those inmates who have just arrived and attempting to communicate from a sound-proof box. I’m generally offended when movies and televisions shows portray our crime fighting and governmental intelligence as simpletons, but the guards should have known that as new arrivals, we were not aware of the standing count and that even if we were, we did not know what time it was and could not hear the standing count call from the guards or loudspeaker. This would not be my only confounding brush with the intelligentsia that makes up the Bureau of Prisons (BOP).
Shortly thereafter, I was transferred to the camp. Upon entering the camp, I gave back the orange jumpsuit and was given a tan pair of pants. Why give me the orange jumpsuit in the first place? I’m not sure about this procedure either, but I don’t make the rules. One thing I learned about the rule makers and enforcers is that one is best served by neither being known nor knowing the guards. Following this rule has served me well so far.
One other thing that the BOP gives new inmates is a handbook. The handbook is full of rules that the inmate must follow, and procedures for completing various tasks (such as filing complaints, requesting new jobs, etc). I learned quickly that there are two sets of rules, those in the handbook and those from the prisoners. I read the handbook cover to cover my first weekend (I arrived on a Friday afternoon). I don’t remember most of it. As you can imagine, most of the staff do not know the rules in the handbook either. I did not realize this until a few months into my time here.
My experience with the BOP and prison, however, started before I even arrived. I was what the BOP calls a self-surrender. When the judge handed down my sentence, my attorney had already requested a self-surrender. If one is not granted this, the convicted is handcuffed, perhaps given a chance to say goodbye’s to family and taken to a local jail for transportation. Self surrender allows for the convict to leave the courtroom, go home, and take care of personal matters before surrendering to the BOP. The BOP gave me two months. Some are given more time, some less. My dad’s wife was ill, and his self surrender time will end up being around 9 months. Other inmates in the minimum security camp are transferred there from higher prisons, or from jails after their conviction. As a self surrender, I have a status in the prison. My status was that of a target. I knew little to nothing of prison hierarchy and society. I was ripe to be swindled.
Within two minutes of my entry to camp, I was confronted by a situation that was a breach of the rules. A guy walking out of the chow hall asked me if I was new (my new pair of blue canvas shoes, and the large black L, the size of my shirt, boldly announced to all that I was new). There was no point in answering him, because the answer was obvious. But, I did. He then asked if I had eaten. I ate a large lunch because I figured I may not get to eat dinner on my first night. I told this inmate that I had not eaten dinner. He proceeded to offer me an orange. The rule is that you are not to accept anything of value from another inmate. Before I entered I read that you should not accept anything from other inmates because then you will be indebted to them. The way it works is that you are offered something, which on the outside would seem like a kind gesture. In prison, however, if you accept, you owe that inmate something. A few days later, the inmate will ask for something from you, and you are expected to produce it. I have found that inmates are passive aggressive. They never tell you what they really want or what the terms of any transaction are.
The rule about not accepting anything from another inmate is written in the handbook. It must be a good rule because the handbook contains very few rules that apply to the informal inmate code as well. I did discover that there are many ways around this rule, and that in many cases, trading with other inmates is good. Despite the rule, inmates break it constantly, as if it were not a rule at all. After I declined the orange, the same inmate took me to the chapel. It turns out that the Christians at the prison have a tithe box. The Christian inmates buy supplies to give to the new inmates. It’s a great ministry. I discovered that the guy who offered me the orange was a Christian. This posed some interesting dilemmas in my mind that I would later figure out as I learned more the rules of prison.
First Day
When I first walked into the prison here at Taft, the rules started immediately. The first rule that I recall I learned from an odd situation. After replacing the clothes was wearing with an oversized t-shirt, boxers, and a humiliating orange jumpsuit, I was put into a sound proof room with benches and a toilet. I was with two other guys. Occasionally we talked, but we mostly just sat there in the silent shock that comes with realizing that we were in beginning a new life in prison. As the three of us sat there, exchanging silent stares or nervous banter, we noticed a guard frantically waving their arms at us and angrily yelling something through the soundproof windows. I looked at them in confusion, because I obviously could not hear them. Then the gesticulating started with increasing levels of crimson on their faces. After playing this silly game of charades, it occurred to me that they wanted us to stand up. I told the other two prisoners that this song and dance the guard was doing meant that we needed to stand up. So, we stood up and the guard was relieved. I later learned that at that time of the day, all the prisoners are required to do a standing count. I have no idea why standing is the preferred position for the inmates, but nevertheless, the inmates must stand up, even those inmates who have just arrived and attempting to communicate from a sound-proof box. I’m generally offended when movies and televisions shows portray our crime fighting and governmental intelligence as simpletons, but the guards should have known that as new arrivals, we were not aware of the standing count and that even if we were, we did not know what time it was and could not hear the standing count call from the guards or loudspeaker. This would not be my only confounding brush with the intelligentsia that makes up the Bureau of Prisons (BOP).
Shortly thereafter, I was transferred to the camp. Upon entering the camp, I gave back the orange jumpsuit and was given a tan pair of pants. Why give me the orange jumpsuit in the first place? I’m not sure about this procedure either, but I don’t make the rules. One thing I learned about the rule makers and enforcers is that one is best served by neither being known nor knowing the guards. Following this rule has served me well so far.
One other thing that the BOP gives new inmates is a handbook. The handbook is full of rules that the inmate must follow, and procedures for completing various tasks (such as filing complaints, requesting new jobs, etc). I learned quickly that there are two sets of rules, those in the handbook and those from the prisoners. I read the handbook cover to cover my first weekend (I arrived on a Friday afternoon). I don’t remember most of it. As you can imagine, most of the staff do not know the rules in the handbook either. I did not realize this until a few months into my time here.
My experience with the BOP and prison, however, started before I even arrived. I was what the BOP calls a self-surrender. When the judge handed down my sentence, my attorney had already requested a self-surrender. If one is not granted this, the convicted is handcuffed, perhaps given a chance to say goodbye’s to family and taken to a local jail for transportation. Self surrender allows for the convict to leave the courtroom, go home, and take care of personal matters before surrendering to the BOP. The BOP gave me two months. Some are given more time, some less. My dad’s wife was ill, and his self surrender time will end up being around 9 months. Other inmates in the minimum security camp are transferred there from higher prisons, or from jails after their conviction. As a self surrender, I have a status in the prison. My status was that of a target. I knew little to nothing of prison hierarchy and society. I was ripe to be swindled.
Within two minutes of my entry to camp, I was confronted by a situation that was a breach of the rules. A guy walking out of the chow hall asked me if I was new (my new pair of blue canvas shoes, and the large black L, the size of my shirt, boldly announced to all that I was new). There was no point in answering him, because the answer was obvious. But, I did. He then asked if I had eaten. I ate a large lunch because I figured I may not get to eat dinner on my first night. I told this inmate that I had not eaten dinner. He proceeded to offer me an orange. The rule is that you are not to accept anything of value from another inmate. Before I entered I read that you should not accept anything from other inmates because then you will be indebted to them. The way it works is that you are offered something, which on the outside would seem like a kind gesture. In prison, however, if you accept, you owe that inmate something. A few days later, the inmate will ask for something from you, and you are expected to produce it. I have found that inmates are passive aggressive. They never tell you what they really want or what the terms of any transaction are.
The rule about not accepting anything from another inmate is written in the handbook. It must be a good rule because the handbook contains very few rules that apply to the informal inmate code as well. I did discover that there are many ways around this rule, and that in many cases, trading with other inmates is good. Despite the rule, inmates break it constantly, as if it were not a rule at all. After I declined the orange, the same inmate took me to the chapel. It turns out that the Christians at the prison have a tithe box. The Christian inmates buy supplies to give to the new inmates. It’s a great ministry. I discovered that the guy who offered me the orange was a Christian. This posed some interesting dilemmas in my mind that I would later figure out as I learned more the rules of prison.
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