Musings and insights from a twenty-something man inside the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.
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Friday, May 23, 2008
Moving out...again.
Yesterday I was wakened by guard (a common occurrence in prison) in the mid-morning who told me that I was moving. I was confused because the lieutenant had told me that I could stay in my dorm. I looked over the move slip and it checked out. Not sure how it had happened, I asked to talk to some form of rank: sergeant, lieutenant, captain, or major.
One of the sergeants showed up about an hour later and ordered me to pack up and move before I could say anything. After I gathered my stuff on my mattress and dragged it into the hall, I asked the sergeant why I was being moved after being assured that I would stay put. He rudely answered that he had no reason, didn't care, that it came from the captain or major, and that I had to move immediately.
After moving to the new dorm I spent the rest of the day trying to get the chance to talk to the captain or major. That was futile. The next morning I was able to talk to the lieutenant, the same one who told me that I would stay in my original dorm. He said he was surprised about the move and would try to figure it out. He also suggested that I send a request to the captain or major outlining what had happened with the move.
Even though the new dorm isn't too bad - though it lacks hot water for cooking - I don't think it's fair for me to have to move when I didn't do anything wrong. I am in a new environment with new faces and new unwritten rules.
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