Sunday, January 29, 2012

I'm Coming Out (Again)



Well, I figured I need to address this at some point, so here goes.

Some of you probably were aware of a conspicuous three month absence I had between August and November, especially since my Facebook page was devoid of random political rantings. Well, here's the truth: I went to prison. Obviously this is going to take some explaining, so bear with me.

First- why I'm saying something. First, I'm sure some of you already know, and I don't particularly care for elephants in the room. Second, for the ones that don't know, I'm saying something because of the fact that my experience over those three months has so universally affected almost every fiber of my being, from the person I am to an (extent) the perspectives I hold that I almost feel compelled to provide some sort of context and compelled to tell my story. Third, because I have viewed the world through an entirely different lens since my incarceration and release, I think it's important that I tell my story in an attempt to break through the social stigmas and preconceptions that ex-convicts face in the world. I think that because of my experience in public speaking/debate/etc, I have a unique ability to share the experiences of someone just coming out of prison that other felons may not, and that's not something that I think should be wasted.  Maybe my story will help -- who knows.

Let's get the basic stuff out of the way. I was arrested for two counts of forgery in April of 2011. I was released on personal recognizance and eventually pled guilty in August. I spent one month in Maricopa County's Durango Jail before I was sentenced in September to 9 months in state prison. I did a total of around 3 months of the time, and because of various early release credits, etc, I was released on November 30th.

Why I did what I did was because of drugs -- very simply. Painkillers destroyed my life in a very real way. I was started on them by a mother of an ex (handed them out left and right) and by the time I was addicted I was too far gone to fathom what to do about it. I'm clean now and have been since I was arrested. I'm not going to go into the whole spiel about what I did -- that's for a different time, but if you don't take anything away from reading this but one thing -- just know that if someone offers you painkillers, and you only say "I'm just taking it once", you never know what will happen after that -- no one has the intention of getting addicted, and some people might be able to take a painkiller and just stop. There are other people, like me, who spiral out of control based on one pill. I've never been addicted to anything else besides smoking, and I'm gone through a few things. Don't take the chance, especially with something so addicting as painkillers.

Anyway, this was more supposed to be about the whole experience of going to prison and the changes that you experience after you leave.

After I was sentenced, I was shipped the next day to the Department of Corrections. When you begin your prison sentence, you are housed in the DOC "Reception Center" at ASPC Phoenix, off of 18th and Van Buren in Phoenix. Typically you're there between 3-10 days (my stay was six). It's very cut and dry -- you go to reception, you go to medical, you go see a shrink, then you wait to be "classified" and then you are bussed out to a state prison. In the meantime, you are on lockdown 24 hours a day in a 18 man cell. There is no TV, reading material, anything to do but sleep and wait -- the monotony made it probably my worst experience out of any of the facilities I was in.

The key thing that happens at the Reception center is "Classification" -- basically, your security risk both to the general public as well as your risk while in custody. The scale on both counts is
2 (Minimum Risk)
3 (Medium Risk)
4 ( High Risk or Max )
and 5 (Closed Custody -- you get the picture ).
Your classification takes into account type of offense, criminal record, pending criminal charges, length of sentence, previous prison stays if applicable, and things like gang affiliation. Your number score decides what type of prison yard you will go to. Prison yards go like this:

2 - Minimum - open movement in and out of buildings, typically dorm style living (50-100 inmates in a large dorm/warehouse), access to exercise yard from 5am-8:30pm. Minimum inmates are required to have less than 5 years left on their sentences. There are certain classes of crime, like sex offenses, that aren't allowed to go to a minimum yard ever.
3 - Medium - controlled movement, basically, you must have an officer present at all times when you are not in a cell. Recreation time is two hours per day. You can have lifers who have earned there way down from a higher security yard here. Some have smaller dorms, others have cells -- it's a mix.

I don't have a real feel for the higher level facilities -- 4 is maximum and 5 is the equivalent of "Supermax", so that may give you a perspective on the security required. At facilities 3 and higher, there's typically a guard in a tower with a gun that will pull the trigger, so it gives you a little perspective on how serious things get as the security level goes up.

I was classified as a Level 2 - minimum security. The prison I went to ASPC Tucson. I was on a minimum yard for people with medical issues (I was classified like that because I was on an anti-depressant), with a capacity of 1,200 inmates, dorm style housing.

The first thing that is drilled into your head when you arrive is the very clear line of racial segregation. It goes like this -- basically, if you stay in a bunk, your bunkmate must be of the same race. If you're sharing a cigarette with someone, they must be of the same race. Each race sits a different table at the chow hall, and you can't share commissary with the same race. These rules are pretty strictly enforced, at least in plain sight. The DOC, to prevent problems, will only put you in a bunk with another member of your same race. If you don't comply with any of the rules, you will get beaten up, then you will put yourself into protective custody, so unless you want a serious problem, you have to comply. You can still talk to other races and generally there isn't an air of racism (although it's there), but the delineation on racial lines is made very clear. I don't really understand the thinking behind why it is like that, but that's just how it has been, and I guess that's how it will be. I certainly wasn't trying to rock any boats.

Another question I think alot of people may have regards problems with sexual assault. It was non-existent where I was at, although I don't doubt it's a problem elsewhere. The way my prison was set-up made it virtually impossible for someone to be assaulted in a housing unit at all. At higher level institutions is where the problem is most likely seen much more often, but I never even felt concerned.

Entertainment and passing the time - -things get quite a bit better in a state prison, but it's still incredibly boring. Inmates can buy TV's for around 250.00. There's a good library, and various activities. I played volleyball, because that's about all I could really do. There's literacy and GED classes, religious activities, and you can smoke cigarettes, which was pretty nice, especially after I didn't have one for a month. You can get a job if you want -- typically getting a job takes 90-120 days, and I wasn't in long enough to get one. Jobs vary from teaching GED classes, to cook, to groundskeeper, to secretary to a Sargent or Lieutenant. The pay is anywhere from .10 an hour to around 3.00, but the higher paying jobs are extremely hard to get without a significant amount of time working your way up.

It was a strange experience for me, with a few surprises, and generally not bad surprises. I was openly gay from about a week after I got there and had virtually zero problems. There was a group of gay and trans guys that hung out and were extremely supportive once I got to know them. I truly believe that without these 5 people my time would have been terrible. I thought that going into this whole thing that I was going to have a huge issue with hiding my sexuality -- and I tried as hard as I could -- but once I learned that it was easier for me to just come out, I was extremely relieved. The principle where I was at was simply that no one will bother you if you are gay -- but you need to be honest about it. Worked for me. Almost none of the gay or trans guys on my unit were ever even trying to be involved sexually with anyone -- that is one thing that would get you beaten up if caught. We kept to ourselves and honestly, after I came out, I began to assert my self a little bit and I gained more respect and was treated better by most people I dealt with.

With that being said, the whole experience of being locked up in a prison is very much walking on eggshells--if you mess up it could be very bad for you, so you have to be alert at all times. Prison is by far the most polite place I have ever been to -- excuse me, thank you, sorry, was almost required if you didn't want to piss someone off. I got off lucky because I've generally been a polite person my whole life. I was never involved or even came close to being involved in any type of altercation -- generally, I found that if you minded your own business, didn't borrow from a person and run up a bill, and stayed polite, you will most likely not have any problems. 95% of the people in a prison are there to do their time and go.

With that being said, it was a difficult adjustment. My general life experience has not been with a group like this, and I had never even been arrested before this charge. I found it difficult to relate, and will probably always. Convicts and felons live in an entirely different world that non-offenders, down to the places they stay, things they prioritize, relationships, upbringing, and language. In order to really "get along" in prison, your entire paradigm on life has to change. I heard things I never thought I would hear. Generally, almost every single person is in there because of something drugs drove them to do -- even if it's assault, forgery, ID theft, etc, so that's generally the back story. Most of these guys are not bad people at all -- in fact, after my release, I find some to be some of the more real and helpful people I've ever met -- and they are extremely loyal to the people that are close to them. When convicts are released, 95% of the time they have no intention of re-offending, they want to stay sober, but the problem is that because all they have done for the last X amount of years is spend time with other felons, it's extremely hard to go back into a world of people who aren't.

I was only in prison for 4 months and this has affected me quite a bit. I've become fully comfortable in a conversation with 4 or 5 people who have been to prison, and since I am staying at a halfway house, that's who I have alot of contact with. But in the situations where I've been a participant in a discussion with a group of non-offenders, I struggle to find the words that used to come really easily, my ability to relate is extremely crippled, and I feel awkward and nervous. I've never had that problem at any point before going in and out of prison. The way society treats ex-convicts after their release is almost apartheid-esque. In jail and prison, our system of punishment is centered around degradation, with the thought being that shame will prevent recidivism. Instead, it creates a feeling of lack of self worth. After release, felons are barred from jobs, restricted on where they can rent or buy homes, and often are forced to resort to staying at halfway houses -- with other felons, effectively insuring that the only people they associate themselves with are other offenders.

Because the law allows for widespread discrimination based on criminal record - in housing and employment - offenders are essentially forced into their own world. Apartments that will rent to felons typically center around poor parts of town. Felons compete for manual labor, low wage jobs -- generally the only places that will hire (exceptions exist of course). And since offenders are only working and living with other offenders, the chance of a successful re-entry into society is dramatically low. After repeated attempts to make it work offenders will generally just give up -- and get back onto drugs, onto the streets, etc.

I was locked up for less than 100 days and I already felt myself slipping into that cycle. Can you imagine how someone would feel after 3, 5, or 10 years? In that sense, our system is almost jerry-rigged to send people right back to the same place, over and over again. Getting out of the cycle isn't impossible -- it can be done -- but without support from someone (friend or family) and without an extreme amount of determination it is a task that is almost herculean in feat.

The idea that offenders just get out and have their mind set on drugs, or crime again is laughable if you were able to experience being around this group for a while. No one wants to live on the streets, no one wants to go to prison, and most people would never want to be the black sheep of the family. Going to prison brands you with a variety of demeaning labels for the rest of your life -- "felon", "criminal", "ex-con", etc. It virtually destroys yourself worth and often drives individuals into deep depression. When someone screws up -- it's not because they want to be like that -- it's because the stigma that society has attached has bore so deep that it feels impossible to extract yourself from. Until there is a fundamental change in how our legal system treats ex-offenders, this is just going to continue to happen. Mainstream society has no desire to actually attempt to enter the world of offenders and attempt to understand how truly difficult it is to get things right -- and until society does understand, our country will continue to send 50-70% of convicts back to prison after their first offense.

I'm tired, so I'm wrapping up. I titled this "I'm Coming Out (Again)", because in many ways, telling individuals that you are a convict has similarities to coming out as a gay man -- fear of rejection, an attached social stigma, and preconceptions based on the label you have instead of the person you are.

I hope this helps anyone who reads it understand a little about how things actually work.
If you have any questions, let me know. If they're more personal, please send me a message.
I intend to follow up with some other stuff, but I've typed enough for tonight.

-Zach