April 13, 2009 marks my second year at Taft Federal Prison Camp. Two years is a long time to spend anywhere. The journey, or whatever you want to call this, is almost over. I have three and a half months before I leave the camp and go to the halfway house.
A lot has happened since my last quarterly update in mid-January. It was only about a week after my last update when several friends of mine were baptized. For those of you who are unfamiliar with what baptism is, I’ll briefly explain. Getting baptized is an outward or public statement that you are a follower of Jesus Christ. The act of being submersed in water and coming out symbolizes Jesus’ death and resurrection. To many Christians, it’s an important event and one that we celebrate. Because the Protestant church here encompasses many denominations, these men were not being baptized into a church or to a specific denomination. They just wanted to show publicly that they had received Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.
The event was important to me because a couple of guys with whom I had spent considerable time, were baptized. It was encouraging to me to see that my relationships with these men were worthwhile. It was bittersweet as well because one guy in particular with whom I was a good friend has left Taft Camp to go to the drug program. I miss the friendship and laughs that we shared, but I know the drug program will help him get more time off his sentence and allow him to resume his life [sooner].
It turns out that this past three months could be summarized by “friends leaving”. In late March, my bunkee Munson, left. I had lived with Munson for fourteen months, about half of my total time here. Munson made me laugh and he was a great bunkee. I’m a big believer in having a bunkee you get along with. It makes the time much easier to do. Why add stress to an already stressful situation? Sometimes you can’t help whom you live with, but with patience you usually can reduce a bad situation from occurring.
My Dad is a good example. He lived in a two-man cube for fourteen months before he moved. He now lives with me. He might have been able to move sooner, but he probably would have gotten an unknown bunkee, a middle two-man cube and a cube not much quieter than what he had. I’m not going to say my cube location is any quieter than his other options, but it’s a window cube, which, in my opinion, is highly preferable.
I’ve only lived with my Dad a few weeks now, but I would rather have Dad than most other options. My Dad is very different from Munson. Munson would talk, make jokes, and converse on a variety of topics. My Dad mostly reads and does crossword puzzles. My Dad can converse on a wide variety of topics; he just usually doesn’t. Nonetheless, I’m glad I have some sense of familiarity. I’m learning some things about my Dad that I didn’t know. For one, I had no idea he did crossword puzzles or Soduko. I had no idea he like corn chips so much, either. He is very routine, which explains a lot about where I got my anal retentive personality. It’s from my Dad!
Probably my closest friend during my time here left on Easter Sunday. Doug had been here twenty-two months. Those twenty-two months were much better for me having someone to talk to and laugh with. Doug was an answer to my prayers early on that I could find a close friend.
Other than friends leaving, I’ve managed to work my way up to $50 a month in pay. I’m probably in the top ten percent of income earners amongst the inmates. It’s probably the only time in my life I’ll be in the top ten percent of income earners anywhere. My job as the fire/safety clerk has improved. I’ve managed to inform the staff of my job duties and demonstrate that I actually do my job. Life is much easier. I enjoy my office and the privacy. You don’t get much time to be alone, to write or think without interruption, so my office is an oasis. As I’ve written earlier, I’m making the job work for me.
Unfortunately I’m not playing soccer anymore. I found that I was getting injured frequently. I’ve been battling some sort of abdominal strain for a while. I’ve been walking a lot though and have recently started jogging again. So far I feel o.k.
That’s pretty much it for now.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Has Prison Changed Me?
One of my close friends is leaving Taft in a couple of weeks. As we walked the track one evening, he made a comment that intrigued me. He said, “I have to look at myself and see if this experience in prison has made me more aggressive.” I had to think about that for a couple of weeks and look at my behavior as well.
I know that being arrested, shackled, and escorted before a judge in 2004 changed me. I had to reconsider who I was based on what I valued. Was I valuing my family, my spiritual beliefs, my possessions or something else? I came to the conclusion that much of my life was hypocrisy. What I said I valued I did really put as a high priority in my decisions. I tried for the three years that I was on pre-trial to implement a new set of values based on new priorities. I came to prison thinking that I had done an ok job of reprioritizing my life.
The challenge was being in prison. If there is anyone out there who thinks that prison is designed to rehabilitate, let me assure you that it is not. Rehabilitation is a change made by the individual. The system, in my opinion, works against you. Even though I came in here with the intent of living my life with different guiding principles, I was bombarded with the anger, bitter, aggressive and selfish culture that exists in every level of prison. I’m at the lowest level of security of incarceration and it is prevalent even here.
I’ve already written about how I found a good couple of friends. I am a Christian and I wanted to find other guys who shared that priority. I was blessed to be able to do so. Even so, the challenge of not allowing the culture of this place to change me confronted me daily and still does. You come to realize that the staff, for the most part, does not care. This creates an overall environment of bitterness, anger and resentment towards the system. You can’t earn anything. There is no obtainable objective by complying with their rules. In fact, I’ve seen in-mates benefit, who have deliberately not complied with the rules. It takes a great deal of patience to accept the seemingly whimsical approach the staff takes when evaluating inmates for jobs, furloughs, bunk assignments, half-way house, etc.
If you can accept that the environment is not a traditional merit-based system, then you have to contend with the general inmate philosophy. Not unlike “the outside”, inmates are selfish. I can accept that. However, inmates, unlike people on “the outside” are also aggressive. This doesn’t mean they are physically aggressive, although many of them are. Even the older ones are aggressive in terms of power or opinion or even things. I wrote in one of my earliest blogs that sometimes you just have to be wrong here. It’s the easiest way to defuse a situation. As I have adapted and gained some wisdom I wonder if I have also become more stubborn. I don’t know if I’m the one who is wrong as much. On Monday night I watch a t. v. show called “Chuck”. I’m only one of two guys who watch. Because I’ve been here for almost two years, I think the new guys defer to me because they are one being humble. I want to watch my show and these new guys will have to wait for their day. This is how my attitude has changed.
I started to notice this in soccer. I’ve always been competitive, and I’ve always struggled with my attitude in soccer. That same attitude of arrogance erupted again here. It required an extreme amount of self-control to refrain from allowing my pride to evolve into anger during some soccer games. I’ve decided against playing sports for the duration of my time.
As I prepare to return home, I think about the kind of husband and father I want to be. I certainly don’t want to take some of the prevailing attitudes from prison home. Somehow, over the next four months I need to relearn compassion, gentleness, patience and love—the attitudes that will make me a successful husband and father. The attitudes that I have adapted here are not going to help me be successful when I go home. I’m not sure how I will learn these other than trying to apply them to situations when the common response is usually the exact opposite. It will be a challenging four months.
I know that being arrested, shackled, and escorted before a judge in 2004 changed me. I had to reconsider who I was based on what I valued. Was I valuing my family, my spiritual beliefs, my possessions or something else? I came to the conclusion that much of my life was hypocrisy. What I said I valued I did really put as a high priority in my decisions. I tried for the three years that I was on pre-trial to implement a new set of values based on new priorities. I came to prison thinking that I had done an ok job of reprioritizing my life.
The challenge was being in prison. If there is anyone out there who thinks that prison is designed to rehabilitate, let me assure you that it is not. Rehabilitation is a change made by the individual. The system, in my opinion, works against you. Even though I came in here with the intent of living my life with different guiding principles, I was bombarded with the anger, bitter, aggressive and selfish culture that exists in every level of prison. I’m at the lowest level of security of incarceration and it is prevalent even here.
I’ve already written about how I found a good couple of friends. I am a Christian and I wanted to find other guys who shared that priority. I was blessed to be able to do so. Even so, the challenge of not allowing the culture of this place to change me confronted me daily and still does. You come to realize that the staff, for the most part, does not care. This creates an overall environment of bitterness, anger and resentment towards the system. You can’t earn anything. There is no obtainable objective by complying with their rules. In fact, I’ve seen in-mates benefit, who have deliberately not complied with the rules. It takes a great deal of patience to accept the seemingly whimsical approach the staff takes when evaluating inmates for jobs, furloughs, bunk assignments, half-way house, etc.
If you can accept that the environment is not a traditional merit-based system, then you have to contend with the general inmate philosophy. Not unlike “the outside”, inmates are selfish. I can accept that. However, inmates, unlike people on “the outside” are also aggressive. This doesn’t mean they are physically aggressive, although many of them are. Even the older ones are aggressive in terms of power or opinion or even things. I wrote in one of my earliest blogs that sometimes you just have to be wrong here. It’s the easiest way to defuse a situation. As I have adapted and gained some wisdom I wonder if I have also become more stubborn. I don’t know if I’m the one who is wrong as much. On Monday night I watch a t. v. show called “Chuck”. I’m only one of two guys who watch. Because I’ve been here for almost two years, I think the new guys defer to me because they are one being humble. I want to watch my show and these new guys will have to wait for their day. This is how my attitude has changed.
I started to notice this in soccer. I’ve always been competitive, and I’ve always struggled with my attitude in soccer. That same attitude of arrogance erupted again here. It required an extreme amount of self-control to refrain from allowing my pride to evolve into anger during some soccer games. I’ve decided against playing sports for the duration of my time.
As I prepare to return home, I think about the kind of husband and father I want to be. I certainly don’t want to take some of the prevailing attitudes from prison home. Somehow, over the next four months I need to relearn compassion, gentleness, patience and love—the attitudes that will make me a successful husband and father. The attitudes that I have adapted here are not going to help me be successful when I go home. I’m not sure how I will learn these other than trying to apply them to situations when the common response is usually the exact opposite. It will be a challenging four months.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Prisoners of War vs. Criminals
I recently finished a book called The Ways we Choose about a prisoner of war in Vietnam. The author, Dave Carey, spent five and a half years at the Hanoi Hilton. I don’t want to explain what the Hanoi Hilton was like because I don’t know. From Drew Carey’s book, I gathered it was bad.
Before I came to Taft, I watched a lot of war movies, particularly “Band of Brothers” and “To End All Wars”. “To End All Wars” was about a Japanese POW camp in Burma, I believe. The reason I watched these movies was to find hope in adversity. I watched these men endure incredible hardship and deprivation and survive. I hoped that I could go to prison and survive what I viewed as hardship equally well.
Let me first assure you that Taft Correctional Institute is not even close to the deprivation and hardship endured by POWs or soldiers. Our camp is attached to an INS low severity institution. I’ve heard stories where the low security prison provides a better lifestyle for some of the men than what they had on the outside. Of course a lot of guys complain about the food or the cubes in which we live, but it’s better than what most of the world calls home.
The standard of living at Taft is not really the point of this blog. The author of The Ways We Choose was beaten, starved and housed in cramped quarters, with a bucket for a toilet. Yet he and his compatriots endured. I admired the strength of these men. I wanted to know how these men could endure circumstances far worse than my circumstances. I wanted the same strength that these men had, but I’m not sure I have it. After reading the book I thought about what they had that I don’t.
One thing that stands out in the book and the movies is that the POWs and the soldiers were, for the most part, united against a common enemy. When I first arrived here I heard talk about how you were either on the side of the inmates or the guards. I even mentioned this in a blog about how you do your job at Taft. As I’ve observed over the 22 months I’ve been here it’s not as straightforward as that. Just because you step on this compound as an inmate does not make you accepted with the inmates. There is some unity, but it exists in factions. There are numerous factions based on all sorts of cultural and religious factors. You can even be classified by the type of crime and accepted by one group and ostracized by another. As I told my wife, it’s strange how you can live in close proximity with so many people, but feel completely lonely.
I’m not saying there is no unity here. There is if you can find the group to which you belong. This group may be as small as three to five people. I’m still a big proponent that the easiest way to do time is to find a good friend. This is very difficult, but it’s the only sense of unity I’ve felt. A unity that my friend and I had the same objectives, the same hopes and the same fears and we would help each other endure our time at Taft.
Another aspect that stood out in this book was the willingness of the POWs to sacrifice for one another. One story from the book describes how the POWs would communicate between cells. For hours guys would lie on a disgusting, dirty floor or hang onto a bar covering the window while muscles ached so that they could warn the one POW, who would knock on the wall, if the guards were coming. At first it sounds like the guy knocking on the wall had the easy job, until you learn that the guards would check the POW’s knuckles for bruising. That was the guy who got beaten. Nothing like this happens here at Taft.
I have a friend who is Hispanic. When we arrived, the Hispanics shunned him. I don’t know the exact reason, but I believe it was because my friend did not affiliate with any gang. The Hispanic guys wouldn’t give him soap or shower shoes. He was told to go to the chapel. As I’ve mentioned, the Christian inmates have a tithe box where we accumulate the basic necessities for new inmates. It seems that “going to the chapel” is only for those inmates who start their prison experience without any group.
You might think that because we all are enduring the same hardship that, like POWs, there would be a sense of unity and sacrifice. I think it exists, but only if you are accepted by a group. Usually this is through a gang affiliation. Your “homeys” or “your people” might look out for you, but it’s not always the case.
I’m thankful that I met a few good guys with whom I am friends. I guess “my people” in prison are the Christians. It took me a while to fit in even to that group. I’m also lucky in the sense that I’m a very good soccer player. That helped me cross boundaries into other groups. That does not happen all the time here, but it’s something I’m proud of. I still don’t see the unity and sacrifice of the POWs and I suppose I never will, but at least I contributed what I could to help create a sense of unity in the time I’ve spent here.
Before I came to Taft, I watched a lot of war movies, particularly “Band of Brothers” and “To End All Wars”. “To End All Wars” was about a Japanese POW camp in Burma, I believe. The reason I watched these movies was to find hope in adversity. I watched these men endure incredible hardship and deprivation and survive. I hoped that I could go to prison and survive what I viewed as hardship equally well.
Let me first assure you that Taft Correctional Institute is not even close to the deprivation and hardship endured by POWs or soldiers. Our camp is attached to an INS low severity institution. I’ve heard stories where the low security prison provides a better lifestyle for some of the men than what they had on the outside. Of course a lot of guys complain about the food or the cubes in which we live, but it’s better than what most of the world calls home.
The standard of living at Taft is not really the point of this blog. The author of The Ways We Choose was beaten, starved and housed in cramped quarters, with a bucket for a toilet. Yet he and his compatriots endured. I admired the strength of these men. I wanted to know how these men could endure circumstances far worse than my circumstances. I wanted the same strength that these men had, but I’m not sure I have it. After reading the book I thought about what they had that I don’t.
One thing that stands out in the book and the movies is that the POWs and the soldiers were, for the most part, united against a common enemy. When I first arrived here I heard talk about how you were either on the side of the inmates or the guards. I even mentioned this in a blog about how you do your job at Taft. As I’ve observed over the 22 months I’ve been here it’s not as straightforward as that. Just because you step on this compound as an inmate does not make you accepted with the inmates. There is some unity, but it exists in factions. There are numerous factions based on all sorts of cultural and religious factors. You can even be classified by the type of crime and accepted by one group and ostracized by another. As I told my wife, it’s strange how you can live in close proximity with so many people, but feel completely lonely.
I’m not saying there is no unity here. There is if you can find the group to which you belong. This group may be as small as three to five people. I’m still a big proponent that the easiest way to do time is to find a good friend. This is very difficult, but it’s the only sense of unity I’ve felt. A unity that my friend and I had the same objectives, the same hopes and the same fears and we would help each other endure our time at Taft.
Another aspect that stood out in this book was the willingness of the POWs to sacrifice for one another. One story from the book describes how the POWs would communicate between cells. For hours guys would lie on a disgusting, dirty floor or hang onto a bar covering the window while muscles ached so that they could warn the one POW, who would knock on the wall, if the guards were coming. At first it sounds like the guy knocking on the wall had the easy job, until you learn that the guards would check the POW’s knuckles for bruising. That was the guy who got beaten. Nothing like this happens here at Taft.
I have a friend who is Hispanic. When we arrived, the Hispanics shunned him. I don’t know the exact reason, but I believe it was because my friend did not affiliate with any gang. The Hispanic guys wouldn’t give him soap or shower shoes. He was told to go to the chapel. As I’ve mentioned, the Christian inmates have a tithe box where we accumulate the basic necessities for new inmates. It seems that “going to the chapel” is only for those inmates who start their prison experience without any group.
You might think that because we all are enduring the same hardship that, like POWs, there would be a sense of unity and sacrifice. I think it exists, but only if you are accepted by a group. Usually this is through a gang affiliation. Your “homeys” or “your people” might look out for you, but it’s not always the case.
I’m thankful that I met a few good guys with whom I am friends. I guess “my people” in prison are the Christians. It took me a while to fit in even to that group. I’m also lucky in the sense that I’m a very good soccer player. That helped me cross boundaries into other groups. That does not happen all the time here, but it’s something I’m proud of. I still don’t see the unity and sacrifice of the POWs and I suppose I never will, but at least I contributed what I could to help create a sense of unity in the time I’ve spent here.
Monday, February 23, 2009
"When we experience great fear . . ."
“When we experience great fear we attempt to exercise control over the situation no matter the negative consequences”
In my previous blog, I talked about how we sometimes act irrationally because of anger or depression. I wanted to follow up on that with a quote from a t.v. show on fox called “lie to me”. The show is about a couple of body language analysts who solve crimes or other problems by assessing whether or not suspects are lying during interrogations or interviews. In the first episode, the main character, played by Tom Roth, said something to the effect: “When we experience great feat we attempt to exercise control over the situation no matter the negative consequences.” I’m paraphrasing because I had to attempt to remember the quote before I wrote it down.
The quote supports my previous blog and adds another emotion that causes us to act irrationally. Some people might equate great fear or great sorrow with depression. Fear and anger can cause us to act in ways that most of us would say is out of our character. In my previous blog, the question was posed: “Why did you do this?” I didn’t have an answer although I believe many people are here because fear, anger or depression led them to do things without considering the consequences. I’m not going to say this is an excuse. What we all need to learn is how do I avoid the pitfalls of bad decisions because of anger or fear.
My suggestion to this is to surround yourself with friends who will challenge you and confront you if you are going down the wrong path. Having friends who are willing to do this and having the humility to allow them to do this is where personal life changes take place. Being humble enough to share your thoughts and decisions with these friends is a big step towards avoiding problems in the future. The problems may not necessarily be criminal either.
If you are married you should start by being open and honest with your wife. I wasn’t and I should have been. I admit it’s difficult being totally honest with my wife. We have had some serious arguments. However, I know our relationship grows stronger through the struggles. I certainly understand my wife better than I used to.
I’m also fortunate to have some Christian friends. I look back at my decision making that led me to prison and I found that I did not have a good friend with whom I could seek advise and counsel. I can also look at the times in my life when I did make good decisions and those times usually coincided with times I did share with friends and did accept their advice.
One of the things I wrote a long time ago in my blog was that the best way to get through you time here is to find a friend. I would also say that’s also true outside of here. Find a friend. Start with your spouse.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Blog - Why?
I remember rather vividly a question I was asked by another inmate about a month after my arrival here. I was in the herb garden and another 30-something white guy, (I specify the age and race because 30-something Caucasian males seem to be a small group here), asked me, “Why are you here?” The simple answer to that is the federal government decided to prosecute me and it’s not easy to beat them.
I thought about the “why” question more. I’m sure someone in your family has asked you, “Why did you do it?” I know my wife has asked me that question and, lately, my 6 year old son has asked another version of the “why” question. Unfortunately the “why did you do it?” question is not easy to answer.
There are some guys here who knew they were committing crimes. They knew that if they were caught they would go to prison. In spite of this they continued with their actions knowing that prison was part of the risks involved. There is another group of guys here that you look at and wonder, just as the inmate asked me, “Why are you here?” While I’m sure you can segregate out various groups of men, I want to talk about the group that by all appearances and by talking with them elicit the question, “Why are you here or why did you do it?”
I’ve already discussed in an earlier blog the effects of depression and anxiety that I have heard from a number of otherwise normal inmates. I believe that when we suffer from depression or anxiety, the decisions we make are not necessarily logical or thought through. Looking back at my own decisions I can see how I was unable to process the impact or possible results of my decisions. I also didn’t want to ask for or receive any advice once I started down the path of making decisions that were guided by anxiety and depression.
I don’t think it’s such a stretch to see how anxiety or depression impacts decisions. Some of our spouses or family members may make completely illogical purchases of clothing, electronics or even medication as a response to the feelings of anxiety or depression. I’ve known couples where one spouse just buys things to combat the depression. While this is not a crime it can ruin a family just as easily if the things are too expensive for the family’s income. Drugs and alcohol addiction usually start with feelings of anxiety or depression. The point is that when we suffer from anxiety or depression we tend to make decisions without thinking about or realizing the likely outcome. To answer the question “Why did you do this?” the response in some cases is “I don’t know. I thought what I was doing would help and I couldn’t see the problems associated with my decisions.” It’s possible to say that those of us who committed crimes and suffered from anxiety or depression were temporarily insane. If insanity is defined as making decisions without realizing what the outcome will be, then it is.
I think there is another reason that otherwise normal people commit crimes. In a way it is similar to the effects of depression in that the logical outcome of the action usually won’t match what the person intendeds. I’m speaking of anger. As a parent I can recall a situation where my son did something he wasn’t allowed to do. However, my response was extreme anger. While I would never strike my child, I did yell. This was stupid. The action I took was not going to teach my child. The consequence of my yelling probably caused more harm than my child’s action to begin with. I sometimes wonder if maybe some men are in prison because of a temporary lapse in the control of their anger. I’m sure we’ve all heard stories about moms or dads who murder their children and then they plead temporary insanity. Maybe that’s what it is. Again the answer to the question of “Why did you do this?” is possibly “I don’t know”.
I know a lot of men here wonder about the choices they made that got them here. Some of them still answer, “I don’t know.” I still can’t fathom how I walked down the path of bad decision after bad decision. I look back and think, “That wasn’t me. None of those decisions reflect the person I was and am.” I have to wonder if the effects of depression, and for some people the effects of anger, have that great an impact on us that we do things we can’t fathom even doing. I know I didn’t intentionally screw up my life and that of my family. For some reason I couldn’t see clearly what the outcome of my decisions would be.
I’m not a psychologist and I don’t have any answers to preventing bad decisions made through anxiety or anger. What I don know is that someone will read this who is either asking the question, “Why did you do this? Or has been asked that question. All I can say is the answer may truly be “I don’t know”. I do know that some of us who have made bad decisions certainly didn’t intend the pain we’ve caused.
I thought about the “why” question more. I’m sure someone in your family has asked you, “Why did you do it?” I know my wife has asked me that question and, lately, my 6 year old son has asked another version of the “why” question. Unfortunately the “why did you do it?” question is not easy to answer.
There are some guys here who knew they were committing crimes. They knew that if they were caught they would go to prison. In spite of this they continued with their actions knowing that prison was part of the risks involved. There is another group of guys here that you look at and wonder, just as the inmate asked me, “Why are you here?” While I’m sure you can segregate out various groups of men, I want to talk about the group that by all appearances and by talking with them elicit the question, “Why are you here or why did you do it?”
I’ve already discussed in an earlier blog the effects of depression and anxiety that I have heard from a number of otherwise normal inmates. I believe that when we suffer from depression or anxiety, the decisions we make are not necessarily logical or thought through. Looking back at my own decisions I can see how I was unable to process the impact or possible results of my decisions. I also didn’t want to ask for or receive any advice once I started down the path of making decisions that were guided by anxiety and depression.
I don’t think it’s such a stretch to see how anxiety or depression impacts decisions. Some of our spouses or family members may make completely illogical purchases of clothing, electronics or even medication as a response to the feelings of anxiety or depression. I’ve known couples where one spouse just buys things to combat the depression. While this is not a crime it can ruin a family just as easily if the things are too expensive for the family’s income. Drugs and alcohol addiction usually start with feelings of anxiety or depression. The point is that when we suffer from anxiety or depression we tend to make decisions without thinking about or realizing the likely outcome. To answer the question “Why did you do this?” the response in some cases is “I don’t know. I thought what I was doing would help and I couldn’t see the problems associated with my decisions.” It’s possible to say that those of us who committed crimes and suffered from anxiety or depression were temporarily insane. If insanity is defined as making decisions without realizing what the outcome will be, then it is.
I think there is another reason that otherwise normal people commit crimes. In a way it is similar to the effects of depression in that the logical outcome of the action usually won’t match what the person intendeds. I’m speaking of anger. As a parent I can recall a situation where my son did something he wasn’t allowed to do. However, my response was extreme anger. While I would never strike my child, I did yell. This was stupid. The action I took was not going to teach my child. The consequence of my yelling probably caused more harm than my child’s action to begin with. I sometimes wonder if maybe some men are in prison because of a temporary lapse in the control of their anger. I’m sure we’ve all heard stories about moms or dads who murder their children and then they plead temporary insanity. Maybe that’s what it is. Again the answer to the question of “Why did you do this?” is possibly “I don’t know”.
I know a lot of men here wonder about the choices they made that got them here. Some of them still answer, “I don’t know.” I still can’t fathom how I walked down the path of bad decision after bad decision. I look back and think, “That wasn’t me. None of those decisions reflect the person I was and am.” I have to wonder if the effects of depression, and for some people the effects of anger, have that great an impact on us that we do things we can’t fathom even doing. I know I didn’t intentionally screw up my life and that of my family. For some reason I couldn’t see clearly what the outcome of my decisions would be.
I’m not a psychologist and I don’t have any answers to preventing bad decisions made through anxiety or anger. What I don know is that someone will read this who is either asking the question, “Why did you do this? Or has been asked that question. All I can say is the answer may truly be “I don’t know”. I do know that some of us who have made bad decisions certainly didn’t intend the pain we’ve caused.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
January 2009 Quarterly Update
It has been a while since I posted a blog. Actually it’s been 3 months because my last blog was the October 2008 Quarterly Update. I’m now writing the January 2009 Quarterly Update. I apologize for the slowdown in posts. My brother, who was posting these for me, became too busy, so my father-in-law is now going to post. I’m amazed at my father-in-law. He spends a lot of time helping my wife watch our 2 boys. They use up a lot of energy. I hope my father-in-law has some left for the blogs. I hope to write more frequently again now that I have someone who can help.
A lot has happened since October. I call this the Holiday Period. In the 3 months since I last wrote, I’ve missed 4 holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s Day. Needless to say it’s difficult to be away from your family during the holidays.
The bright spot in that time was my long awaited furlough. I was denied a furlough in April, but finally was approved in early October. The actual date of the furlough was December 20th. A furlough is a chance to get away from the institution for a set period of time. The initial furlough an inmate receives is 14 hours. This is what I had and there isn’t much to do in Taft or the surrounding area in 14 hours. Since it was close to Christmas I wanted to do some Christmas shopping for my kids. My kids did not come down for the furlough because it was too short of a time to justify 8 hours of traveling. Also my wife and I didn’t think my kids would understand why I was going back to the prison.
Some of you may think it is a waste of time to shop on a furlough, but one thing I’ve tried to accomplish here is to be a part of my kids’ lives as much as I can. I felt that actually picking out a gift from me to them would help me connect with them. It may be a small thing, but a lot of small things become memorable when they are put together.
One other thing I wanted to do was get real coffee. I never drank coffee until I got here. The only reason I started was coffee is cheap caffeine. Unfortunately, it’s not so cheap the way I make it. I’m not even sure it’s coffee. I put a teaspoon of coffee (instant of course) in a cup along with 2-3 tablespoons of hot chocolate, 1/2 teaspoon of non-dairy creamer, 1 pack of Sweet’N Low, and either a peppermint candy or cinnamon candy. Our first stop on the furlough was a Starbucks. I chose peppermint mocha. The grande was $3.80 . I was expecting something fantastic for $3.80 . What I got didn’t taste that much better than my 40¢ prison mocha. Now I’m not a coffee connoisseur so don’t think I know what I’m talking about. My point is the Starbucks wasn’t ten times as good as what I make.
The holidays were similar to last year. We had a pretty good Thanksgiving lunch and all the inmates received the Christmas bag. The Christmas bag is a bag of snacks and candy that the inmates get each year. My bag only lasted 1 week. Last year we also received a Christmas snack about a week before Christmas. This year the administration decided to not give us the chocolate milk and cookie.
The only thing I noticed this year is that Christmas Eve was much more festive, while New Year’s Eve was not. Last year New Year’s Eve was the most festive day of the year. I think this may have been my dorm. We didn’t get to shop the week of New Year’s Day so nobody had food to eat. When people get together and cook it’s a much happier time. The reason for not shopping is too long a story for this blog.
In early December, I went through my first BOP Audit as the fire and safety clerk. What a fiasco. My job was not much fun during November leading up to the audit. I had to explain on several occasions that I had no experience in fire and safety. At one point the sergeant wanted me to take responsibility for the fire sprinkler system in the dorms. Some of the sprinklers were out of alignment. I have to say that making an unqualified inmate responsible for something that only professionals should handle is a recipe for disaster. This kind of thing seemed to happen every week. I was also told to do the same job week after week by different people. Trying to say, “I already did that” doesn’t go very far.
I have been taking some classes these past 3 months. I finished Excel. It’s difficult taking a computer class when the computer lab is closed half of the time. It’s a good thing I know Excel or I wouldn’t have finished the class. I’m also taking crochet. This doesn’t sound like a class your would take in prison, but it’s very popular. It does pass the time, but I’ve also found that I can make a few things for my family. That makes it worth the stigma of working with yarn.
It was a difficult 3 months for me. Obviously the holidays are difficult. I also missed my younger son, Evan’s, third birthday. I’m thankful that I had some positive things to get me through. I’m also thankful for all of you that helped my wife and kids during this time. It makes a huge difference. The best news is I will be home next Thanksgiving and Christmas. Knowing it’s you last Christmas away from your family helps get you through.
A lot has happened since October. I call this the Holiday Period. In the 3 months since I last wrote, I’ve missed 4 holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s Day. Needless to say it’s difficult to be away from your family during the holidays.
The bright spot in that time was my long awaited furlough. I was denied a furlough in April, but finally was approved in early October. The actual date of the furlough was December 20th. A furlough is a chance to get away from the institution for a set period of time. The initial furlough an inmate receives is 14 hours. This is what I had and there isn’t much to do in Taft or the surrounding area in 14 hours. Since it was close to Christmas I wanted to do some Christmas shopping for my kids. My kids did not come down for the furlough because it was too short of a time to justify 8 hours of traveling. Also my wife and I didn’t think my kids would understand why I was going back to the prison.
Some of you may think it is a waste of time to shop on a furlough, but one thing I’ve tried to accomplish here is to be a part of my kids’ lives as much as I can. I felt that actually picking out a gift from me to them would help me connect with them. It may be a small thing, but a lot of small things become memorable when they are put together.
One other thing I wanted to do was get real coffee. I never drank coffee until I got here. The only reason I started was coffee is cheap caffeine. Unfortunately, it’s not so cheap the way I make it. I’m not even sure it’s coffee. I put a teaspoon of coffee (instant of course) in a cup along with 2-3 tablespoons of hot chocolate, 1/2 teaspoon of non-dairy creamer, 1 pack of Sweet’N Low, and either a peppermint candy or cinnamon candy. Our first stop on the furlough was a Starbucks. I chose peppermint mocha. The grande was $3.80 . I was expecting something fantastic for $3.80 . What I got didn’t taste that much better than my 40¢ prison mocha. Now I’m not a coffee connoisseur so don’t think I know what I’m talking about. My point is the Starbucks wasn’t ten times as good as what I make.
The holidays were similar to last year. We had a pretty good Thanksgiving lunch and all the inmates received the Christmas bag. The Christmas bag is a bag of snacks and candy that the inmates get each year. My bag only lasted 1 week. Last year we also received a Christmas snack about a week before Christmas. This year the administration decided to not give us the chocolate milk and cookie.
The only thing I noticed this year is that Christmas Eve was much more festive, while New Year’s Eve was not. Last year New Year’s Eve was the most festive day of the year. I think this may have been my dorm. We didn’t get to shop the week of New Year’s Day so nobody had food to eat. When people get together and cook it’s a much happier time. The reason for not shopping is too long a story for this blog.
In early December, I went through my first BOP Audit as the fire and safety clerk. What a fiasco. My job was not much fun during November leading up to the audit. I had to explain on several occasions that I had no experience in fire and safety. At one point the sergeant wanted me to take responsibility for the fire sprinkler system in the dorms. Some of the sprinklers were out of alignment. I have to say that making an unqualified inmate responsible for something that only professionals should handle is a recipe for disaster. This kind of thing seemed to happen every week. I was also told to do the same job week after week by different people. Trying to say, “I already did that” doesn’t go very far.
I have been taking some classes these past 3 months. I finished Excel. It’s difficult taking a computer class when the computer lab is closed half of the time. It’s a good thing I know Excel or I wouldn’t have finished the class. I’m also taking crochet. This doesn’t sound like a class your would take in prison, but it’s very popular. It does pass the time, but I’ve also found that I can make a few things for my family. That makes it worth the stigma of working with yarn.
It was a difficult 3 months for me. Obviously the holidays are difficult. I also missed my younger son, Evan’s, third birthday. I’m thankful that I had some positive things to get me through. I’m also thankful for all of you that helped my wife and kids during this time. It makes a huge difference. The best news is I will be home next Thanksgiving and Christmas. Knowing it’s you last Christmas away from your family helps get you through.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Update (#48)
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
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
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