When I moved into this dorm I waited to see if they had a prayer group like some other places I've been. The first night I didn't see anything so I asked one of the guys about it. He said no, they haven't had a prayer group at all. So I told him I would start one tonight.
I was a little nervous because, from what I've seen so far, the guys in this dorm are ready to fight over anything and probably have the worst attitudes and behaviors of any other dorm I've been in. I didn't know what to expect.
I certainly wasn't expecting six other guys to join me in the corner when I called it together. Some of the guys said they had never had a prayer group in any of their dorms and were glad I had called us brothers together. We shared praises and prayed for about fifteen minutes. I was blessed to see the guys show up that did. I 'm hoping each of us can hold each other up and influence the drom for Christ.
I've been moved again. This time it was in the process of converting my dorm into a kitchen workers' dorm. I guess they're grouping them together to make it easier to call them to work. Eighteen of twenty-eight guys were moved out and eight of those that stayed are janitors for the dorm. Quite a turnover.
I was moved down the hallway to a dorm with two of four showers that work, one of five sinks that work, a water fountain that doesn't have water, and no hot water pot to get hot water for cooking. I only know two of the guys that were in here when I arrived and, as far as I know, none of these guys are fellow Christians.
Added to the unfortunate circumstances are the guys who beat and rap all night long. In my last dorm I stayed up all night because it was quiet and a perfect time to read. The noise here makes it tough to stay focused on the page. I'm looking forward to a swift move out of this dorm or these guys to stay quiet and go to sleep. I would prefer the former.
I had a great visit today. Both my mom and C. came to see me. It was the first time I've seen C. since we split and my mom for almost a month.
First I heard from my mom about the family trip to New Mexico. Sounded like lots of fun and I really wish I could have been able to go with them. Hopefully when I get out I'll be able to travel with them and just have a good time as family again.
After thirty minutes my mom went to wait outside while I talked with C. It was a lot less awkward than it could have been and reassuring to see that our friendship is still very much intact.
C. and I have had very different experiences this summer but i can tell that God is working in and through us. Two of her friends have come to know Christ through her influence and I have started a couple of guys headed that direction. I hope to see God's kingdom increase by many more as His actions through us are passed on by the people we share with.
I must be doing something right around here because the guards don't seem to be leaving me alone.
Today, on the way to recreation, I was talking with the guy in front of me about traveling to Africa and the malaria medication I had to take. As I passed one of the sergeants, he (the guard) asked me to come back to him. When I went closer to him he told me "Bye."
I didn't know why he wanted me to go back to my dorm so I asked him.
"You can't talk in the hallway. I've been telling you guys the past three days. Bye," he responded.
I hadn't been to recreation since he started and had never been told to stop talking in the hallway. But this sergeant, of all the sergeants, will not allow you to talk with him, and he yells at you if you try. I decided to just return to the dorm and not press the issue.
When I got to the dorm I found that the rules state "offenders will not talk loudly or engage in horseplay" while in the halls. I had been talking in a normal conversational voice and not engaging in horseplay. If the rule was changed, they are required to post the changes in the dorm. No such notice was to be found. So I wrote another grievance.
I don't like people who abuse their authority and this is just one minor example of many instances where abuse has occurred. I just hope that the grievances get something done instead of exacerbating the problem.
*
The following is a grievance I have filed with the administration of the prison unit where I am detained. I have also mailed a copy of this grievance to my family as a record of these events, especially in the event that there are negative repercussions against me from the prison guards as a result of my complaint. For the sake of privacy, names of guards and other inmates have not been used.
July 23, 2008
When I was waiting in line to leave the chow hall today between 6:30 and 6:45, Officer S. told everyone to move over against the wall. As everyone moved over, the guy behind me said something. I don't know his name or what he said, but people call him O____. Ms. S. (the guard) looked at me and said "What did you say?"
I replied " I didn't say anything."
She said, "Come our here (into the hallway) and tell me what you said."
I repeated my previous statement and moved out the door into the hallway without any threatening movements or words. As I came out the door, Officer G. came running up and told me to put my hands behind my back to be handcuffed. I complied and, as I turned around, I told O____, "You shouldn't let me take the fall for this."
O___ then raised his arms and said, "It was me. I said it. He didn't do anything."
Ms. S. yelled, "I don't care if he did it or not! He gave me a mean look!"
Then Mr. G.(the other officer) and I walked to cell block where I was put in a holding cell. The other guards in the hallway at the time were Captain M. and Officers S. and T.
When I was released from holding at around 7:45 to go back to my dorm, Ms. T. called me aside and said, "They did you wrong. I saw that. You did nothing wrong."
I agreed and went back to my dorm.
Around 9:30 I asked Ms. T if she would be a witness if I wrote a grievance. She said no because it would make the problem bigger. She also tried to dissuade me from writing a grievance, saying that Ms. S. would get a copy of what I had written and probably retaliate somehow. As we were talking, Ms. S. walked up and asked me to turn around while she said or signaled something to Ms. T. Ms. S. then asked me to come down the hall. She said she wanted to talk to me. I followed her to the area in front of the commissary window and stopped when she told me to stand against the wall. Then she stared at me for several seconds. I was smiling because I was nervous and said, "Everything's fine and I'm cool if you want to apologize."
She yelled," You cocky motherfucker! You better get your ass down the hallway before I really cuss you out!"
At this time, Officers S.and P. were in the hallway.
At no point did I raise my voice to say anything disrespectful, yet Ms. S. put me in holding for over an hour and cussed at me in blatant disrespect. I have witnessed Ms. S. overreact with disrespect towards other inmates who have done no wrong. It seems to be a pattern that I don't think is professional. I have always been told, "If you give respect, you get respect." I have given respect to each guard working at this unit and I don't think that deserves disrespect from Ms. S. or anyone else.
I would like a personal apology from Ms. S., either verbal or written. I would like officers to be reminded that not all offenders should be treated with disrespect, but to assume respect first. I would like officers to be reminded that acting as an honest witness may make problems worse short-term, but will make for a better environment for officers and inmates alike in the long term.
Hooray!!! We finally have real AC!
The banging around in the air ducts woke me up this morning when the maintenance guys were fixing the duct fans. The noise carries quite well and comes out right over my head. Fortunately the chilled air also comes out over my head and the vent is blowing forcefully.
The temperature is now a very enjoyable 70ish degrees. I often hide under my blanket at night and hold it close. Whenever I am doing anything on my bunk I keep my shirt on, instead of only wearing shorts, and keep a weight on my loose papers to keep them from blowing away. It's a little chilly but far better that the previously unbearable heat.
Boy, this system is hard to deal with. Here is the story of how I got my visitation list changed.
About a month ago my mom asked if I could change my visitation list in anticipation of different friends and family coming to see me. For two weeks I couldn't get a form to change the list, even after sending requests to the administration. The hallways are supposed to have their own supply of each form an inmate might need.
Once I finally received my form, filled it out, and sent it in, I got it back the same day with an explanation that I couldn't change my list until September because I had changed it in March and have to wait six months to make another change. I know I have to wait six months between amendments to my list, but I am also sure I didn't make any changes in March. I haven't changed my list since the day I set foot in TDCJ. The March date was when I showed up at this unit.
Sure that something was amiss, I sent requests to the warden classification department to check into it. My reply came from classification a few days later
and said there was an error (no kidding!) and to resubmit my request form. I still hadn't received as answer from the warden two weeks later.
After resubmitting my form, I got it back with the same rejection as before, this time highlighted to make sure I go the message. Now, you must understand that the form went to the exact same lady in classification who told me in her reply to my request that there was an error. Did she forget? To find out, I sent the form and replied-to request taped together.
I just today received an affirmative notification that changes had been made. Oh, the hoops to jump through and seemingly endless circles to run. To top it all off, the air-conditioning on my wing has broken down - yet again! What next?
Today I had a good conversation about my faith in an interesting place - the shower. A guy named Spanky (like the Little Rascals character) is a member of a white separatist gang and a real loud mouth in the dorm. He has often made passing remarks toward me about Christianity or who I am, and I usually just blow them off or give a short chuckle in response.
Lately he's been asking me more and more about my background and attitudes, and has been surprised at how innocent I seem. I have never used drugs or been drunk, but I told him those things don't necessarily make me a good person. After all, I am in prison; I obviously slipped up. Everyone has done wrong somehow, sometime.
When I got into the shower today, Spanky was in the stall next to me. He started talking about growing up in the church and asked me about my own faith. I told him a bit more, and he said he had seriously tried to be a Christian but kept falling back into his old ways. In response, I told him that if he is seriously wanting to try again that he should pray and ask God for help; he can't do it alone.
About twenty minutes later Spanky came to me while I was reading and said thanks for talking with him. I told him that if he had any other questions to come and ask and I was up for talking anytime. I don't know how things will turn out, but I pray that a relationship would build between us, and between him and God.
Yesterday evening the field and gym opened for recreation ... finally.
With excitement built up for a potential pick-up soccer match, I was a little disappointed when only six or seven players showed up.
Not one to allow the circumstances get me down, I decided to do intervals around the track. I was shooting for seven intervals of one minute hard running followed by two minutes of jogging all back-to-back.
Boy, all this time without recreation has killed my stamina. I was able to get in three intervals before struggling to suck wind. After about five minutes of walking I picked up again. After only two more intervals I conceded defeat and walked for the rest of the hour.
Hopefully I can regain the endurance I lost. It will only come with more frequent recreation, though, and I have no control over that.
I had a visit from my dad and little brother today. It's crazy to me how much my lil bro has grown up and changed since I moved out of the house a few years ago. When I lived with the fam he was a husky, rebellious sixth grader. Now, as he enters high school, he has lost his weight to cross country and mellowed out quite a it. One thing that hasn't changed is his appetite for books - a good thing to never lose.
I hope I'll get home in time to hang out before he leaves for school. I feel like I already missed that with the middle bro, who leaves for college this fall.
Last night while I was reading I overheard stories from a guy in my dorm who spent some time in a mental hospital. He was sharing his tales as if they were glory stories, but they really just confirmed what I had suspected - a severe lack of adequate mental facilities.
I read an article in the Wall Street Journal a couple of weeks ago that lamented the shift of treatment for the mentally ill away from state hospitals. The author, Dr. E. Fuller Torrey, notes studies stating that 10% of homicides are committed by seriously mentally ill people (not a huge surprise) and that the majority of inmates in the country suffer from mental illness.
"In fact, there are now more individuals with a serious mental illness in state prisons than in state mental hospitals," he reckons.
The shift in treatment certainly can't account entirely for the rapid growth of the prison system on its own, but the healthcare system should be taking a look at itself to see how to keep more people living productive lives on the outside instead of locking them away without treatment. It is alarming how many times I see inmates say or do completely illogical things. Maybe drugs have fried their brains, but I still think they deserve better care and help to become the best citizens possible.
This just in: The following is a letter written to USA Today newspaper, July 22, 2008.
Texas Rangers Josh Hamilton is the new golden boy of baseball. Hamilton's record-breaking performance in Major League Baseball's All-Star Home Run Derby at Yankee Stadium last week is a living testament to the fact that people who struggled with drugs in the past can change their lives in a positive way. ("It's not just a comeback for Hamilton," From the Press Box, Sports, July 15, USA Today)A few years ago, Hamilton, who developed an addiction to alcohol and drugs, was at a low point in his life when he was suspended from baseball for nearly two seasons. Instead of giving into the downward spiral of drug addiction, he made an effort to turn around his life. After eight stints in rehab, Hamilton was finally able to kick his addiction and return to baseball. Although he didn't win the Home Run Derby crown, battling and defeating the monster of addiction makes him a winner.Hamilton didn't have to deal with his demons behind bars. Instead, his addiction was treated as a medical problem, which helped him get his life back on track. .Hamilton's story sends a powerful message to society. Drug addicts can become productive citizens, if given the chance.But Hamilton's case is the exception, not the rule. We need to give individuals who are struggling with addiction to drugs or alcohol the treatment they need instead of a jail cell. Maybe then we can give other would-be stars a second chance to make good on their potential.Anthony PapaCommunications SpecialistDrug Policy AllianceNew York
I don't know the reasoning behind it but for the last few days we have not had any recreation in the gym or on the field. We are supposed to get at least one hour outside every day and have almost always had morning and afternoon recreation.
I learned that the field has been closed because the bleachers had a loose pole - a "security risk." Okay, so just cut the pole off or, if the pole really is a security risk, it should be possible to pull it out with minimal effort. If that is too difficult, round up a few inmates to carry the bleachers off the field where they (the bleachers, not the inmates) won't pose any danger. We've done that in the past when the bleachers were in the middle of the field.
Until things open up again I'll be waiting patiently for a chance at fresh air in the short walk outside to visitation once a week. The malodorous dorm air just isn't as nice to run in, although running in place isn't the same as on the field either.
Yesterday afternoon the guys in one of the dorms on my wing got mad over something and started banging on the walls. As the noise escalated, I saw the guards preparing what looked like an invasion force. There was a big gas bazooka and a stockpile of gas canisters. The ruckus went on until the gas was shot in.
A few minutes later I heard that one of the guards had a gas mask that failed and he vomited. Guards were also dragging inmates out of the dorm who had passed out or gotten really sick. We were supposed to be going to dinner, but the chaos had to be cleared first. A few guys out of my dorm were called out to clean the floor in the hall. Even twenty or thirty minutes after the gas was fired tears were rolling down their reddened cheeks.
Dinner was called an hour after the gas and the air was still potent enough to get my eyes watery and my sinuses burning. Coming back into the dorm, a guard joked about going down the hall where the gas still lingered. I turned down his offer.
"You scared?" he asked.
"Sure am. I have no desire at all to be gassed."
"Then don't act up."
"You'll never have problems from me."
"Lanois was a Yankee man, came from north of Toronto - snowshoe country, abstract thinking. Northerners think abstract. When it's cold, you don't fret because you know it's going to be warm again... and when it's warm, you don't worry about that either because you know it'll be cold eventually.It's not like in the hot places where the weather is always the same and you don't expect anything to change. Lanois' thinking was fine with me. I think abstract, too."
After a week of not being able to go out to the field for rec in the afternoon, I decided to wake up early for the morning rec at 7:00 AM. It was great to be out in the still, cool morning air. The grass was still a little wet from the morning dew.
Apparently I was one of the few guys that woke up early because it was just Carlos and me on the soccer field. We spent the morning passing and messing around with the ball, not doing anything serious. My knee is feeling better. Even with the little activity the pain came back a bit but not as much as it had been hurting.
Shortly after the last entry one of the guards came in and asked if anyone wanted to do work in the hallway. It was about 1:00 AM and I was bored and wide awake so I said I'd go.
Rico and I went out into the hallway to gather all the trash. It was nice to get outside of the dorm late wheneverything was quiet. We were able to talk and joke
around with a few of the guards.
While I was outside one of the guys still on lockdown tried to pick a fight with one of the guards. Yeah, good idea. Pick a fight with the only guys who can get you off lockdown and in the meantime they can pepper spray and gas you to their heart's content. Obviously, that did not go well. He was handcuffed and taken to segregation lockup. I hope he is good friends with himself because that's the only person he'll see for a while.
So the only work I've done since I arrived at this unit is a quick hall clean up and a trip to the dumpsters with the remains of dinner from the dining hall. Not the most glamorous but a good break from the norm.
Not too much has been going on recently. We went to commissary on Monday. Our dorm usually goes first because we have one of the commissary workers in our dorm. I still had plenty in my locker because we went just last week and I've been going through my stuff slowly, never knowing when we might be delayed for weeks. It seems the schedule is becoming more regular, though - once every two weeks.
The rec yard has been closed since Saturday with only the gym available. The whole rec schedule has been turned on its head because so many dorms are still locked down. Even if the field was open I doubt there would be enough players to start a soccer game. Just having the field open to run would be enough for me.
