Prison Journal: Day 7,894
March 21, 2009
Upon Carole’s return home from our abbreviated visit yesterday, a search of her e-mail revealed a message from Joan Petersilia. Dr. Petersilia is a distinguished reserach professor whose work I frequently relied upon while I was studying toward my masters degree at Hofstra. At the time, she was publishing frequently on the costs associated with our criminal justice system. I had written her a few times over the years, as I was always in search of mentors. I didn’t think she knew anything about me, as my unsolicited letters never yielded a correspondence.
When Carole told me about the e-mail, I felt as if I were somehow more than a prisoner. That must sound ridiculous, but it’s true. I’ve worn prison clothing for so many years that I need these validations to confirm that I still share a humanity, a common connection no matter how tenuous with the broader society.
Although I did not know Dr. Petersilia, I recognized her name as one of America’s leading scholars. Through my exposure to her work, I recalled that at various times during my imprisonmnet she had been associated with Harvard University, The Rand Institute, and the University of California. From the e-mail Carole had received, I learned that Professor Petersilia was now at Stanford. She was now working on a new book and extended an invitation for me to contribute a chapter.
Carole and I did not have the telephone minutes available for Carole to read the message from Professor Petersilia, so I would have to wait to receive a printout in the mail. Nevertheless, I felt honored that a leader from our society was expressing interest in my work. I really want my wife and family to feel proud of me, and this opportunity to write a chapter for a book alongside one of America’s leading scholars advances that effort. I’m honored that Professor Petersilia reached out to me, and I’m glad that Carole received the message. I look forward to reading it myself.
Despite the welcome news I received about Professor Petersilia’s interest in my work. I still feel a bit sad today. I was not able to visit with Carole last week because her work schedule would not allow it. The three hours we spent together yesterday were not enough to fulfill me; a lifetime would not be enough to fulfill me. Except for my exercise and the two blogs I wrote, I did not have a very productive day.
With my body still sore from the running, I limited my run to five miles. Now I’m at 890 miles over the past 99 days of running. I finished reading There’s No Such Thing as Business Ethics by John Maxwell today, but I’ve yet to write a book report. Perhaps my spirits will rise tomorrow. I’m not as productive when I’m missing my wife.
Saturday, 21 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,893
March 20, 2009
With Fridays being visiting days at Taft Prison Camp, I had a lot to look forward to when I woke this morning. I hadn’t seen Carole in two weeks, and since we used too many of our phone minutes earlier in the month, we’ve been having to cut our telephone conversations short as well. I looked forward to connecting with my wife again during our visit.
I didn’t begin writing this morning until 3:30, as I wanted to rest a bit longer. My body has been feeling beat up from all the exercise. A rest would likely serve me well, but I had set two benchmarks when I began this long string back in December. I wanted to run 1,000 miles without taking a day of rest, or at least I wanted to run 100 days without taking a day of rest.
Today would mark my 98th straight day of running, but I only had 883 miles recorded. I would only run two miles today, as I needed my legs to recuperate some. On visiting days, I’ve been running these shorter distances. When I concluded my run this morning I boosted my tally to 885 miles. On Sunday I would reach my 100th day of running, but I would still have to cover 100 plus miles to reach the 1,000-mile goal. At the pace I’ve been going, I’d have about two more weeks to reach it.
These individual goals really help me through the prison term. They may not have much meaning to others. I’m not setting any type of record, competing against anyone, or striving for an award. Working toward a goal that I set simply restores a smidgen of control to my life. While making progress toward the goal, I feel as if I alone determine the inevitable success or failure. By achieving goals that I set in place, I empower myself. That’s why I intend to continue running, even if my body feels sore.
I only wrote two blog articles before my exercise. Then I wrote a letter to Tristan, a young friend of mine currently residing in Brescia, Italy, while he awaited the start of graduate school in the fall. I have known Tristan since he was in primary school. Now he is a university graduate and engaged to marry. His maturity is a reminder of how much time I have served in prison. I remember the first visit I had with him, in the mid-1990s, when his mother brought Tristan and his brother Zach to visit me at the Fort Dix prison.
Today I felt excited about visiting with Carole. She did not feel well, however, and was only able to sit with me for three hours. I returned to my housing unit at noon, sad and feeling very much in prison. I look forward to this prison term’s end, as soon as it will come.
Friday, 20 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,892
March 19, 2009
I have many reasons for waking early each day to write about prison adjustments. One reason includes my hope that I can help other prisoners understand their own power to make decisions that will prepare them to lead fulfilling lives. I speak with many men who struggle with their confinement. Through classes I teach, my writings, and the examples I set, I hope to show them that a goal-centered adjustment makes it possible to advance through sentences with feelings of personal growth toward becoming stronger, more balanced individuals.
The key to this growth, I think, is to accept responsibility. We as prisoners cannot wait for outside forces to improve our lives. Instead, we must understand our environment, then take action to ensure that we achieve the most with what is available to us. As a consequence of pursuing this strategy throughout my prison adjustment, I’ve always felt as if I could make contributions to the lives of others.
To thrive inside these boundaries, a prisoner needs to create an activity that connects him to society. The alternative mires a prisoner inside the prison culture, where pernicious influences perpetuate. That lack of focus on positive prison adjustments leads many people into prison gangs, or if they are in lower security prisons, into patterns of behavior that keep the men on cycles of failure.
As the title of this journal entry shows, I’ve lived separated from my family and community since 1987. That has been my entire adult life. Despite all of thsoe years, I live with a lot of energy and optimism. The underlying reason that supports my empowerment is the connections I make to society, and the commitments I make toward redemption.
I am not certain how much more time I must serve. Mywife and I are prepared for whatever comes. During the time I have remaining to serve I will continue writing, investing many hours each day to contribute literature that will help others understand prisons, the people they hold, and strategies for growing through confinement.
The talented Web designers who work closely with Carole bring me lots of suggestions about how I can use internet technology more effectively to expand my network. I know that Congressional reports show that more than 13 million people process through the criminal justice system each year. I’d like to reach more of them and inspire those who must struggle through prison into positive adjustments. My limitations, however, are that I don’t have more than a pen and paper; I burden others with the duty of converting my handwritten pages into digital files, inserting hyperlinks, using effective keywords, twittering, and making use of all social networking tools. I’m grateful for the help I receive, as connecting with others assuages the pains of confinement.
This morning I began my work early, before 2:00, as I had many blogs to write. I sent out eight articles before the day was over. My body is feeling a bit beaten from all the exercise, so I swallowed three ibuprofens before I went to run. I ran 10 miles slowly, then followed with 200 pushups. My tally is now 883 miles over the past 97 consecutive days.
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,891
March 18, 2009
While talking with my wife over the telephone today, I learned that the editors of change.org published an introductory article I wrote. I feel grateful for this opportunity to build upon my network of support. These efforts to reach out and connect with society, I am convinced, will help me overcome the challenges I expect to encounter upon release.
Although I have never been released from prison before, I’ve thought a lot about the obstacles I will face. When my prison term expires I will have completed more than 26 years as a prisoner. Clearly, the world has changed since 1987 when I first was locked inside prison boundaries. Besides the advancement in society, I will also have to cope with the stigma of my conviction. the more I write, and the larger audience I can build, the more I enhance my chances for succeeding upon release. That has been the motivation throughout my prison adjustment.
My fellow prisoners don’t always agree with this proactive approach. The experience of serving time extinguishes hope for many and it decimates a man’s sense of efficacy. Rather than preparing, they express indifference, clinging to excuses that nothing matters. I feel a deep sense of responsibility to my wife, my family, and to our society that will not allow me to drop out and wait for life to happen. I must continue striving to expand my reach and influence, whatever the personal costs or consequences.
Besides learning of the publication at change.org, my wife conveyed a message that I may be able to contribute to the readers of prisontalk.com. That web site, as I understand it, provides a forum for those looking for information about prison. As a long-term prisoner, I feel as if I have a duty to share what I’ve learned and to work diligently to promote prison reform. I welcome these writing opportunities and will continue working hard to open more.
The internet offers an excellent platform to reach people with a specific interest in the criminal justice system, but I also must strive to reach Americans who don’t know how this system operates. That’s one of the reasons I focus on academia. By writing for university students, I augment what they learn from theoretical textbooks with observations I’ve made while living in prison. I’d like to open relationships with more universities, and I intend to work toward that end.
Since I cannot access computers or typewriters, I must write my thoughts in longhand. Without Carole and others who support our work, I would not be able to make these contributions to society. I feel privileged that Josh, Bean, Anita, Tallie, Nichole, Nick, Nancy, and others who give so much of their time and talents to assist Carole and me with our work. These projects bring the feeling of meaning to my life. They make me feel as if I am living as a part of society, making a real contribution. Such efforts assuage the pains of confinement, and I’m grateful.
This morning I began writing at 3:06. By the end of the day I had completed nine blog articles. I ran 10 miles, and followed the run with 300 pushups. This session boosted my tally to 873 miles over the past 96 days. I fel a real pain both of my legs, though. Tomorrow I’ll take ibuprofin before my run, as I’m determined to cross the 1,000 mile barrier without a day of rest.
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,890
March 18, 2009
Many of the men with whom I serve time at Taft Camp seem like children on the days leading up to Christmas. They are giddy with anticipation for the prison reform legislation that they feel certain is about to pass. The talk focuses on bills the Congress is about to introduce that will provide more good time, or legislation that will resume the parole program throughout the federal system. When the inmates approach me with questions on what I’ve heard, I always suggest that it’s more empowering to prepare than to wait.
A successful prison adjustment, from my perspective, requires a commitment of emotions and will. I’ve embraced this strategy from the beginning of my term. It means that I never relinquish control of my aspirations to an outside force. With my conviction comes a lengthy sentence. That prison term represents the hand I must play. I never allowed myself to cling to the possibility than an outside force would change my predicament. Instead, I created opportunities to live a life of meaning in spite of the decades I would serve.
That strategy is not always what my fellow prisoners want to hear. I understand. They feel sad and disconnected from society. Prisoners miss their families and communities. The thought of serving four, five, or ten years in prison paralyzes their spirits. In this era of change, it can feel better to cling to hopes for legislative relief.
As I have written elsewhere, I too am optimistic that our country’s new leadership will reform our nation’s prison system. By 2010, I suspect that the Director of the BOP will transition his management style from a Bush perspective to an Obama perspective. That means I would expect more transparency; I would expect prisoners to have better access to family and community; I would expect more encouragement to prepare for success upon release. Besides those administrative changes, I feel optimistic that the 111th Congress will pass prison-reform legislation that provides relief.
Despite those expectations, I think prisoners must focus on steps they may take to prepare. The emotional roller coaster of waiting for outside forces to improve conditions can debilitate a successful prison adjustment. I advise my fellow prisoners to educate themselves, to make contributions to society, to build stronger networks of support, to improve their fitness or expand their consciousness. Efforts to prepare for the challenges that await release will empower them as such efforts empower me. When I offer such guidance, however, I frequently feel as if I am the wicked older brother who tells his siblings there is no Santa Claus.
I, too, want to resume my life in society. After nearly 22 years of imprisonment, I feel eager to taste liberty. My experiences make me incapable of waiting for others to bring me freedom, though. I feel as if I must prepare for it, or create it myself. That’s why I woke at 2:42 this morning, read, then began writing at 3:07. By 7:30 I had finished writing nine blog articles or responses to reader comments. At 8:00 I began my exercise. At 10:00 I had logged 10 miles and six sets of bar dips. My running tally is now at 863 miles over the past 95 days. I wrote four additional articles in the afternoon, and was on my rack reading at 5:30. I was sleeping by 6:15. It was a full day, part of my deliberate strategy to prepare for success upon release.
Tuesday, 18 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,889
March 16, 2009
This afternoon I taught a class on values and goals. The class was my sixth in a series of eight to ten two-hour classes I lead regularly at Taft Camp. We generally meet on Monday afternoons, and I have between 20 and 30 participants for each cycle.
Through the values and goals session, I try to inspire the participants to identify the values by which the live. If the men can place their values in a hierarchy, we can project where their values will lead them. Having each participant grasp the values also provides him with a compass through which he can evaluate how he is spending his time in prison.
It’s easy for a prisoner to lose his way. Every day can have a tendency to blend in with the next. He misses his family, and a terrible apathy can come over him. To avoid debilitating adjustments, I urge the men who participate in classes I lead to define their values in order of importance. Once they create a list with which they feel satisfied, the men can use it to match their behavior. That is where the goals come into play.
If the prisoner identifies his values, he can measure whether the goals he is working toward reflect the commitment to his values. One of the obstacles I’ve observed in prison adjustments is that too few prisoners contemplate the ways in which they want to grow over sustained periods in time. Those men come to the end of their sentences and they find that their time was wasted on devotion to softball games and soap operas. An understanding of values and goals, I felt convinced could lead men to more successful adjustments.
I used the Values and Goals that guide me through each year as a teaching tool. This strategy keeps me motivated, despite the many years that I serve. As a consequence of having specific objectives toward which I work, I have compelling reasons to wake early, to push myself, to avoid behavior or interactions that may derail my progress. It is the same strategy Jim Collins wrote that great companies followed in his book Good to Great, and I felt certain it was essential for individuals who wanted to lead optimal lives as well.
I am not a fan of sentences that span multiple decades for violent offenders. Such sentences seem especially Draconian when the offense was one against the public order, with only consenting adults involved. Nonviolent drug offenders represent today’s equivalent of those who ran speakeasies during the Prohibition era. Yet some nonviolent drug offenders, like me, serve more time than terrorists. Such sentences scream of injustice, and I hope Americans will call for reforms.
Monday, 16 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,888
March 15, 2009
Over the decades I’ve served in prison, I’ve read hundreds of books on leadership. Those books have helped me prepare for the many challenges I expect to face upon release. They have also helped me endure the struggles of living apart from my family and community. One type of leadership perplexes me, however. I do not understand the motivations of those who lead our nation’s prison system.
Every book on leadership that I’ve read trumpets the importance of valuing people. Leading people means to understand people, to help all individuals reach their highest potential. A strong leader can induce, or shape behavior by offering mechanisms through which each individual can reach distinction through contribution. Those who set prison policies, however, disregard this wisdom that leaders in every other segment of our society follow. I don’t understand why.
Through my written interactions with thousands of university students, I frequently read that prisons should punish. High recidivism rates together with high prison operating costs suggest to me that prisons punish American citizens more than anyone else. After more than 21 years, I certainly don’t feel as if I’m being punished. This is the only life I know. I wonder, though, why those who lead our nation’s prisons don’t take this system in a different direction. Why are they so indifferent to the cycle of failure that prisons perpetuate.
In 2008, Congress passed The Second Chance Act. That legislation showed how much prisons cost, how many people return to society from prison each year, and how many return to confinement. It found that the most effective means of lowering recidivism was support for prisoners to nurture strong family and community ties. The legislation found that such support was missing, and it urged prison administrators to create programs to strengthen family ties during the incarceration term. Despite one year’s passing since the act became law, prison leaders have totally ignored the recommendation.
There must be a reason why prison leaders block prisoners from access to telephone and visits with family. I cannot understand it. Policies that require prisoners to choose between calling their wives and their mothers seem inconsistent with platitudes about preparing offenders for re-entry. By not allowing prisoners to communicate or visit frequently with immediate family and community mentors, it feels as if prison leaders are preparing offenders for recidivism.
I feel sad today because I am behind on my monthly allocation of phone minutes. With access to only 300 minutes of phone time per month, the only person I call is my wife. Even in speaking with Carole alone, I must limit myself to 10 minutes of phone time per day. I am behind schedule. That meant I could only talk to her for three minutes yesterday, and I must restrain myself from talking for longer than three minutes today. She is my link to the world, my inspiration for doing well. How does it prepare me for release by restricting my access to talk or visit with my wife? I am in minimum security, yet I cannot even earn more time with my family. I don’t understand the leadership that sets such seemingly myopic policies.
Today I woke at 2:00. I wrote only three blog articles. Sadness about not being able to talk with family depressed me. I lay back down at 5:30 in the morning. At 8:00 I went outside to exercise. I ran only three miles, then lost interest. I only ran to keep my string going. I have 843 miles logged in the past 93 days. I sat for a haircut. In the afternoon I finished proofing the manuscript. I wrote letters to lawyers who work with me regarding a dispute concerning my sentence commutation. And I wrote my love to Carole. I was in bed by 5:30 and asleep by 6:00.
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,887
March 14, 2009
Today I spoke with a prisoner who I once considered a violent gang leader. Twenty years ago, we were both locked inside the walls of a high-security United States Penitentiary. We were both in our early 20s, and we both had long sentences to serve. He went by the name Boogie.
At the time that I knew Boogie, he was a leader of a gang known as the Pirus. The gang did not have as many followers as the Crips, but its members were just as committed to disruption within the penitentiary walls. Prison gangs were a part of life inside the penitentiary. The irony was that prison management set policies that appeased the gangs, and those policies had the unintended but inevitable consequences of encouraging them. It was the gang leaders like Boogie who received the single cells and coveted job assignments. Administrators did not concern themselves with prisoners who were striving to prepare for better lives.
Boogie is now only months away from release. Administrators dropped his security level last year, and he transferred from an East Coast prison to this camp at Taft. I recognized him immediately, despite more than a decade’s passing since I saw him last. He was tall, with a shiny bald head, a muscular build, and tattoos covering his torso, arms, and legs. Our adjustments were different during the early years of our term, though we had been assigned to the same housing unit in the penitentiary and our paths crossed. Choices he made in prison led to a more difficult adjustment than mine.
I asked Boogie how he liked the atmosphere here at Taft Camp. He said that he didn’t like it at all. Boogie said that he preferred the action of the higher-security prisons. His violent past, he said, precluded him from what he perceived were some of the benefits that came with camp placement. He couldn’t receive furloughs, for example, or participate in unescorted work programs in the community. He also complained that staff didn’t give him enough respect. “The only way I gets any respect is when I’m pushin’ a knife into someone or kickin’ some tail.”
Boogie expected release to come before the summer months ended, so he said that he would go along with the camp program. As I listened to him, I wondered why prison administrators ran this system the way that they did. I wondered why, for example, they would set policies that sent prisoners the message that the only way to distinguish themselves was through violence and disruption. I knew that the sentiments Boogie expressed were pervasive through the prison system. I felt the same way. Administrative policies did not encourage prisoners to pursue positive adjustment patterns by inducing such behavior with incentives. Yet those who led gangs or could cause disruption felt appeased.
To me, the management goals seemed misguided. I knew that my perceptions were framed over a long-term prisoner’s perspective. Though in all the years I’ve served, I’ve rarely felt as if the prison system supported or encouraged my efforts to reconcile with society or prepare for a law-abiding life upon release. The system placed its emphasis on the negative rather than the positive, and to me, that seemed the reason it fostered so many adjustments like Boogie’s.
I know that I have a few more years to serve, and I look inward for my motivation. I keep my focus on Carole. To that end, I woke this morning to begin writing before 3:00. I finished writing six blog articles before 7:30. I ran 10 miles and followed the run with 300 pushups. I have now logged 840 miles over the past 92 days.
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,886
March 13, 2009
This morning I felt heavy with sadness when I woke. After all of the days, weeks, months, and years I have served, I am totally adjusted to prison. If I set my mind to focus exclusively on my writing, exercise, and reading, I easily could coast through the remaining three to four years that I’m scheduled to serve. I could serve those thousand-plus days in an isolated cell without a whimper; I could serve them in a high-security penitentiary with rape and murder always a holler away. The time in confinement no longer affects my prison adjustment. I’m well conditioned to cope with prison.
The strategy that guides and empowers me is to set clearly defined goals that I control. One goal, for example, is to write every day. Another is to exercise every day. As long as I work toward the goals I set, I obliterate some of the control that outside forces have over my life. My key, or the essential component to my feeling of empowerment, comes with my setting a purpose toward which I can stay in constant pursuit. The only time I fall into an emotional trap, or pit, is when I surrender some of that control. It is why I know that I will struggle with sadness all day.
I am sad because I will not visit with Carole today. She is my oxygen because I allow myself the pleasure of loving her, and because God has blessed me with her love. Rather than focusing on the 1,000 days of confinement ahead, I live my life from one visiting day to the next. I have trained myself to live as if I’m swimming beneath the current, and the Friday visits with Carole represent my single opportunity to come up for air. Today I will not have any air.
The reason we’re not visiting today is because Carole is scheduled to work. Had I told her that I needed her, I know that she would have come. As a nurse, however, she has a responsibility and I wanted her to honor it; I could cope with the sadness. I could erase it completely, but doing so would require me to live without love. I prefer to accept the life that comes with our marriage, and sometimes that means inviting sadness. In time, I remind myself, prison will end and we’ll be together. For now I must focus on holding my breath and making it through to the next visiting day.
I began writing at 3:00. By 7:00 I had completed four blog articles and I put my writing gear away. Producers from Good Morning America had contacted Carole yesterday with regard to my work. They were compiling content for the Bernard Madoff story and had found my work as a useful resource. A producer contacted Carole to determine whether I could be of service. As a prisoner, administrators control my access to the media. Since I could not be a timely source, the producers asked Carole whether she could help. She put the producer in touch with Joe Reddick, a friend I made in a previous prison where we both were confined. The producer sent a car and driver so Joe could make an in-studio appearance to consult on how Madoff would serve his time.
As I watched Joe appear on the morning news segment, I felt proud of Carole for the role she played in coordinating the effort. Our work is becoming a national resource in a specific niche, and I feel blessed to work together with my wife to create these opportunities. After the show I went out to run five miles, bringing my total to 830 miles over the past 91 days. In the afternoon I wrote three additional blog articles, then I spent two more hours proofing the manuscript on which I’ve been working. I was lying on my rack by 6:00, and asleep by 6:30 p.m..
Friday, 13 March 2009
Prison Journal: Day 7,885
March 12, 2009
Bernard Madoff pleaded guilty to 11 counts of fraud related charges today. The white-collar criminal had admitted to federal officers that he was the mastermind to a Ponzi scheme that swindled $50 billion from investors over the past several decades. Despite the magnitude of the crime, the justice system had allowed Madoff to enjoy the opulence of his Manhattan penthouse for the past several months. That life of luxury for Madoff ended today.
Had Madoff been an “ordinary” American, like the thousands of men with whom I served time over the past 21 years, the government would have insisted upon his confinement much sooner. Despite the educational background, the professional credentials, and the level of trust Madoff held, the government did not use a higher standard in judging him. Rather, Madoff was given more consideration than people who were charged with less spectacular crimes.
Madoff is 70-years-old, and it seems likely that the amounts of loss his crimes cause will result in his serving the rest of his life in prison. News reports have been announcing a potential sentence of more than 100 years, though I suspect the sentence he receives will be less than the 45 years I serve. Whatever sentence he receives, the natural lifespan of man will make it unlikely that he will live long enough to complete the term.
Since I expect him to receive a sentence of 20 years or more, Madoff will serve his time in either a low-security prison or a medium-security prison. I suspect administrators will send him to FCI Ft. Dix or to FCI Otisville. Either prison will have an abundance of men who serve sentences that are far more severe than Madoff’s. I am hopeful that his notoriety will bring attention to what I perceive as injustice in our prison system.
I feel opposed to our concept of measuring justice by the number of calendar pages that turn. Long-term imprisonment may be appropriate for some offenders, but this system ought to offer opportunities for men to work toward reconciling with society. Perhaps an offender like Madoff committed crimes so egregious that society will not accept his redemption. Many offenders, however, languish in prison for far too long. Celebrity prisoners like Madoff may bring attention to their plight.
I woke at 2:30 this morning to being my work of writing about this culture of confinement. Although I enjoy the time alone, and find some therapy in writing words on paper, sometimes I feel as if I’m yelling from deep within a vast forest. No one hears me. Thankfully, I had Carole to publish these daily musings. In time, I will make use of this documentation. If nothing else, I look forward to sitting beside my wife and discussing how I was think of her on this early morning in prison.
I had a lot of work to complete today. By the evening I had written seven blog articles plus a letter for Carole. I ran 10 miles in the morning, lifting my tally to 825 miles over the past 90 days. I helped a friend with a legal letter he had to write, and I proofed some of the typeset pages on the manuscript I began ghostwriting last Thanksgiving. It’s nearly ready. In the evening, just before bed, I learned that producers from Good Morning America called Carole and expressed interest in my work. That was encouraging, as it offered a measure of validation. Perhaps someone was listening.
Thursday, 12 March 2009
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