Breakfast was crazy today. To understand what happened you have to hear about yesterday's rec. For some reason, an Hispanic guy fought a black guy and all their respective gang members started fighting to back their friends up. I wasn't at rec, but I heard everybody hit the ground and about thirty guys were handcuffed and taken to segregation.
Back to breakfast. I was eating my eggs and biscuits when I heard some scuffling behind me and all the black guys around me stood up. When I looked back I saw a really tall black guy holding an Hispanic guy at arm's reach while the Hispanic guy tried to swing, missing every time. One of the other black guys was telling everyone else to cool off. The guards were yelling STOP! STOP!
The tall black guy just turned to the guards, turned back, punched the Hispanic guy in the face three times to drop him, then laid down on the ground with his hands behind his back. The sergeant handcuffed both of them and led them out of the dining hall, the Hispanic guy with blood streaming down his face.
All of us were afraid that, with the fight yesterday and this morning, the guards would cancel our holiday meal. Really, after eating our Thanksgiving lunch, I don't know why we wanted our holiday meal so badly. We had one slice of turkey, one scoop of stuffing, some fruity Jell-o, a small piece of carrot cake, and a spoon of peach cobbler. My last incarcerated Thanksgiving meal had three meats and overflowing stuffing and cranberry sauce, and a tray full of desserts. Today's meal was only slightly more than a normal meal and, though it tasted better, it just wasn't enough to justify cancelling dinner and giving johnnies.
This is definitely my least favorite time of the year in prison because it's so tough being away from family and not doing the traditional stuff. In keeping with Thanksgiving tradition, here's what I'm thankful for: health, support from family and friends, school, books, and the love of Christ. Without those things, my time would be so much tougher.
Not long after I wrote the last entry I put into practice what I had said about fighting.
There was a guy that lost a bet on a basketball game and didn't like my comments on the game (I didn't bet.)
"Look at the score," I said with 20 seconds left to play. His team was down by three.
"F**k you!" Catfish yelled and walked past me.
Next thing I knew I was in a daze with my head spinning and the angry dude in my face yelling, "You wanna fight? You wanna fight?"
"I'm not going to fight," I said.
He walked away.
A couple of guys came to me asking why I didn't hit back, and even offered to beat him to a pulp in my place. I told them that I didn't fight because, as a Christian I am not called to violence but to forgiveness and love; and, no, I did not want anyone to beat him up. That would be the same as me doing it myself.
Since then more than half the dorm have said they respect me more and would take up for me anytime, rather than calling me a wimp or pussy like most of the guys who don't fight hard. For giving me two black eyes with a cheap shot, Catfish is looked down on for the way he handled things because everyone knows I'm an easygoing guy and have no desire to fight.
Afraid to get a case (a disciplinary report on an inmate's record), I skipped rec that night but went out yesterday. The hall guard pulled me to the side and asked what had happened. I told her everything except who did it because "snitches" are the most reviled people in prison. The guards could easily watch the videotape and recognize who it was. She said that I couldn't get in trouble because I didn't do anything and I reported the truth.
Yesterday evening I was called to the infirmary for the injury report. Two guards took pictures and told me that I would get a case for "failure to report an injury." I didn't know that I was supposed to report injuries, especially since I didn't need treatment. They passed me on to the lieutenant for Safe Prisons paperwork.
The lieutenant had me repeat the story of what happened and also write it down. He pressed me for the name of the guy that hit me but I told him how snitches were viewed. I said that I want to live out my faith and tell the truth, but I couldn't tell the whole truth.
He also tried to move me to protective custody to prevent anything else from happening. I told him that I didn't feel threatened at all, had a good number of guys looking out for me, it would look like I had given names, and the move would be cheating me out of recreation, t.v., food in the dining hall, and people to talk to. Also, if I was moved off the unit, I would lose the opportunity to continue college at this unit.
After calling the captain to be sure that it was OK, the lieutenant had me sign another statement saying that I don't feel threatened and assured me that I would not be moved. If i had any other questions, I could ask him at any time. He was going to check the video to see who it was and probably call out a few guys who saw the incident.
When I returned to the dorm Catfish took me aside and apologized for snapping like he did. A lot of guys here don't have the integrity to apologize after something like that. I told him that he was forgiven, that I held no grudge, and explained why I responded the way I did when he hit me.
I don't think everything is over yet, both in terms of punishment or God's use of the situation. I am glad to have the ability to remain calm and live out my faith as a witness to those around me. I'm far from perfect but I know God has used me to impact others already. May His name be praised on the lips of the men around me!
Yesterday I had a great visit with my parents. I hadn't seen them in a while, especially my mom. I got a lot of encouragement out of that time, as I always do, and I think that they got a better idea of what the prison lifestyle is like.
After their visit I went outside with another guy and we were able to talk quite a bit. He said he felt like some of the guys in the dorm might fight him soon. I just dismissed it, knowing he could have a big mouth at times.
Little did I know it would happen so soon. In the evening he was playing dominoes and got into a fracas. The two guys moved into the dorm area where I was reading a book, trying to mind my own business. It was over in about twenty seconds with no one hurt at all.
Then, in one of those stupid prison gang politics moves, the other guy was told to fight again because he hadn't thrown "enough" punches. Now it's past 10 PM and I'm singing in my bunk while the fan is on. All I hear is banging around in the bathroom area. The guy I ran with came back out with no bruises while the other guy chipped a tooth and got a black eye.
I told the guy I ran with that I thought it was dumb to fight, especially over a domino game, and even more so twice in one night. Too much macho mixed with too little maturity is a bad concoction seen too often in prison.
"I learned long ago, never to wrestle with a pig, you get dirty; and besides, the pig likes it.” -George Bernard Shaw
