Prison Journal: Day 8,409
August 18, 2010
Today my wife had lunch with Dr. Joan Petersilia, a distinguished professor at Stanford Law School. I’m thrilled that Carole had an opportunity to meet with Joan because I anticipate that she will play a role in helping me overcome some of the obstacles that await my release. She has been an inspiration to me for longer than a decade and I feel privileged that she supports my efforts to contribute to society.
I read about Professor Petersilia much earlier in my term, when I was studying America’s prison system through graduate school at Hofstra. She was then a professor at UC Irvine and a leader at the Rand Institute, a think tank in Santa Monica. What intrigued me about Professor Petersilia was her keen interest in prisoner reentry. She recognized a link between education and lower recidivism rates, concluding that it was both wise and cost-efficient to educate people in prison.
Last year I began a correspondence with Professor Petersilia after she invited me to contribute a chapter to a new book she was coauthoring with another professor. Then I read When Prisoners Come Home, her book on prisoner reentry. Since then she has extended a formal invitation for me to speak at Stanford Law School upon my release, and I’m eager to address such a distinguished audience.
Cultivating mentors from the academic community has been an important part of my adjustment. I have always anticipated the resistance I would encounter upon release because of my lengthy prison term. That awareness inspired me to take action. I reached out, inviting people I respected to join my support network. It was a good strategy because it resulted in my finding numerous mentors, including some of the world’s most distinguished penologists to guide me.
I encourage the other prisoners around me to think about the challenges that await them. Prison is only a temporary problem. The real struggle awaits each prisoner’s release. That is when he (or she) must face an unforgiving public and cynical employers. I’m always thinking about such challenges, and I feel well-prepared to confront them successfully. All of my decisions relate to my preparations for the career I want to lead upon release. Such aspirations influence every part of my day: the time I open my eyes every morning, the work I do throughout the day, my daily exercise, the books I read, the sentences I write, the people with whom I converse, and the time I close my eyes to sleep. All of my choices are deliberate because I’m well aware of how my lengthy imprisonment will influence the rest of my life. I’m determined to succeed in spite of it, and success will not come by accident.
Ran 10 miles / 5,480 miles in 614 days
500 pushups / 89,700 pushups in 2010
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,408
August 17, 2010
People in prison should think carefully about the high hurdles they must surmount if they are committed to succeeding upon release. Unemployment rates remain stubbornly high and economic leaders expect them to remain so. If people without prison records find it difficult to build careers, then those with criminal records must plan on facing resistance from employers. Anticipations of struggle upon release and a 100% commitment to overcome them have guided my adjustment through every day of my journey.
A key component of my strategy to overcome was to earn valid academic credentials. Recently I received a message from a caring friend who works to help prisoners. She was inquiring about an education program from a for-profit organization about which I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I believe that students can educate themselves through all types of structured courses. But on the other, I’ve read numerous findings that report on the ineffectiveness of for-profit colleges. The New York Times has been reporting that people who graduate from for-profit colleges have a much more difficult time finding employment.
I don’t think it is wise for prisoners to invest financial resources to enroll in diploma mills. Those types of unaccredited programs waste time and money. I wrote an article on education programs that described some of the accredited university programs that prisoners may pursue through correspondence. Early in my prison term when I was working toward an undergraduate degree, I completed several courses through Ohio University. The courses were extremely well designed and every credit I earned was transferable to any other university.
If I were advising another prisoner on how to prepare for the challenges that await release, I would encourage the prisoner to study toward meaningful academic credentials. When I say meaningful, I refer to programs that educated people (and potential employers) would respect. It doesn’t serve a useful purpose, I don’t think, to waste money and considerable energy to study toward credentials that others will not recognize and that will not have much influence on opening employment opportunities.
After earning an undergraduate degree from Mercer University and a graduate from Hofstra University I enrolled in a law school that was not accredited. Although I completed the first year of the program, I was disappointed in the school and considered it a waste of money. Since I didn’t value the program I declined to continue. Instead, I studied independently, learning just as much but not wasting money for tuition that would result in a degree that no one recognized.
Ran 10 miles / 5,470 miles in 613 days
500 pushups / 89,200 pushups in 2010
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,407
August 16, 2010
I received a message from Gaby, a college student, who wrote that she is studying in a criminal justice program and that her professor has designed the course around my work. The students are reviewing my books and articles to broaden their understanding of the challenges long-term prisoners have in preparing for successful reentry to society.
Whenever I hear that professors use my work to contribute to the education of others I feel as if I’m leading a meaningful life. Too many people in our country have misperceptions about prison. The prison lobbyists have been extremely effective at controlling the message, inundating the media with misleading stories that promote an irresponsible message on the need for tougher prison terms. Violent, predatory offenders may need prolonged separation from society, but our country confines more than 2.3 million offenders at a cost to taxpayers of $75 billion per year. Tens of thousands serve sentences that are far too long and that do more harm to society than good.
The lengthy sentences for nonviolent offenders of victimless crimes do harm society because the deplete taxpayer resources. Those resources pilfer from budgets of health care providers, educational systems, and necessary social services. I’m glad for every opportunity to contribute to the dialogue on the need for prison reform and I feel honored that Gaby’s professor uses my work to illustrate this need for college students.
I will continue to write content that helps more Americans understand how their taxpayer dollars are misused to fund this bloated prison system. While the private sector suffers from high unemployment rates, our growing prison system requires more and more prison workers to warehouse humanity. Again, prisons serve a useful purpose in society when they confine dangerous, predatory offenders. Legislators and administrators misuse them, however, when they use limited public resources to confine nonviolent offenders for multiple decades.
My term is coming to an end. I look forward to a long career of helping more Americans understand why the system is such a colossal waste of money and human lives. Besides that, I will speak on the need for prison reforms that would make the system more effective in measurable ways.
Ran 10 miles / 5,460 miles in 612 days
500 pushups / 88,700 pushups in 2010
Monday, 16 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,406
August 15, 2010
For the past three early mornings I’ve been editing two new manuscripts that Carole is preparing to publish. I’m pleased to have finished both. The manuscripts are now sealed in separate envelopes ready for delivery to Carole. She will make the final changes and then submit for the printing of review copies.
I’m eager to receive the printed copies of the book. We are publishing a very small run at first and I will control the distribution to potential sponsors. That is the early stage of my self-publishing strategy. I’m enthusiastic about the advance in technology that will open so many new opportunities in self-publishing for Carole and me.
The work we publish is a very small niche of the reading market. It is not for everyone. Specifically, we will publish content for those who want to learn more about the prison experience and strategies for growing through it. Both of the books that we will release this fall sever that need, and before my release I intend to publish with Carole between two and five additional titles.
As a prison family, both Carole and I feel passionate about helping others create meaning in their lives as they or their loved ones struggle through the criminal justice system. We both understand how traumatic prison can be, but much of that trauma exists because it’s such a world of darkness. Few people can look beyond the stereotypes. They expect prisons to beat people down, to destroy their hope and punish them psychologically.
I do not dispute the pains of imprisonment. It is hard on family members and it can be hard on the individuals who endure imprisonment. Yet I strive to live as an example. With the love of my wife I want to show others that a disciplined strategy can lead to fulfillment while simultaneously enriching relationships and prepare for successful reentry. That’s what I strive to show through every book I write. Just as a single book on fishing wouldn’t be enough to describe the sport, one book on a prison journey wouldn’t be enough to describe everything. I intend to write many, in so doing I hope to help others understand this growing subculture thoroughly.
I’ll write more on the books we’re self-publishing later.
Ran 10 miles / 5,450 miles in 611 days
Sunday, 15 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,405
August 14, 2010
Ron is a friend of mine at Taft Camp. He serves a sentence for a tax related offense that keeps him separated from his wife, Susie, but she visits him every Friday. They’ve been married for more than 30 years and I enjoy listening to him talk about what it means to build a loving relationship that lasts a lifetime. Ron gave me some good advice today.
He urged me to spend the rest of my life loving my wife rather than focusing on the career I wanted to build. Now that Ron is in his late 60s, he regrets the countless times that he worked late and missed dinners with his wife and children. Upon his release next summer, Ron said that he will devote the rest of his life showing Susie how much he appreciates her and he suggested that I not wait until retirement to express my love for Carole.
Both Carole and I are now 46, and we’ve both worked hard to keep our love flourishing through the many years of imprisonment during which we’ve built our marriage. But I’ve been consumed with preparations for my career since the beginning of my term and that preoccupation is even more intense now as I approach release. I’m glad that I spent two hours listening to Ron talk about marriage today, because I will need balance in my life upon release.
As a prisoner I work exceptionally hard, always focused from the time my eyes open before 2:00 every morning to begin my work. It’s always work. To me, work is not only the way I push through each day or prepare for release, it’s also a way that I strive to overcome challenges and contribute to Carole’s life. Even my two and three hours of daily exercise is a part of my work, as is every conversation I have or every book I read.
When I am home I intend to work hard. But I’ll need to ground myself in order to appreciate the wonders of my extraordinary wife. Every day I want to show how much I appreciate her. I want to savor the feeling of knowing that Carole is always beside me, that we’re living in the same house. We visited yesterday and she brought so much comfort with her love for me. I must cherish it always and remember how much I miss her now. When I am home, regardless of how hard I intend to work, I must remember to show Carole that our marriage and love is the center of my life. The sun rises and sets with her.
Ran 10 miles / 5,440 miles in 610 days
400 pushups / 87,800 pushups in 2010
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,404
August 13, 2010
Today’s entry is from Carole
Michael and I had a scheduled visit today, and while we sat together—face to face, holding hands—I told him the words from a love letter that I wrote to him last night. I could hardly get through the first paragraph because I looked into his beautiful brown eyes and felt the overwhelming emotion that comes with my love for him. The visiting room is like a public forum and I’m sure some people looked and wondered, but I only had eyes for Michael. I managed to share the entire 4-page letter, and it felt really good to experience the intensity of emotions that are inspired by the deep commitment we share. Our love has grown exponentially over the past decade, and it continues to blossom as we prepare for the future we’re building, together.
In the 3,091 days since I joined my life with Michael’s, he has written me thousands of pages and millions of words. When our romance began it was through correspondence that we came to know each other again after being apart for twenty years. We were on opposite coasts and separated by thousands of miles so we wrote daily letters that were between 10 and 20 pages—and some days we wrote several times. We had much to share with each other, and we quickly fell in love. I’ve kept every letter (his and mine) and also several envelopes from each prison where he’s been confined. I’ve already filled at least 10 boxes with our letters, and when he comes home we’ll read them all again—it’s something we’re both looking forward to doing in our home, together. I may add thousands more pages by the time he is released (since we don’t know when that will be) and I’ll continue to save them.
For quite awhile I’ve been meaning to scan our letters into electronic documents to preserve them, and yesterday I began with the box in which our very first letters are stored. I can tell that this is going to be a lengthy project because I’ve hardly begun the scanning process and I’ve already spent hours reading and revisiting our thoughts and experiences from so many years ago. Our journey, from coast to coast, prison to prison, is documented on those pages. I am reminded anew of the brilliance in Michael that was evident in his first handwritten letter–his mind, his soul, his passion for life. He is magnificent; the embodiment of thousands of nights of introspection and personal growth.
Our relationship isn’t easy, and our letters document the difficulties as clearly as the joys and laughter and love. Every couple working to hold a marriage and a family together through the hardships caused by prison understands those difficulties. Michael and I choose each other and we work hard to enjoy a thriving marriage. It’s a conscious effort, and it doesn’t happen by accident. We nurture our love as if it’s a garden–when weeds appear that can destroy the beauty, we don’t leave them, we pull them. When we have the opportunity to reconnect physically by holding hands with our fingers interlocked, it’s a time for us to recommit to all that we have promised each other, and we took that opportunity today.
I hate to leave after visiting, and it was especially hard today. I miss Michael already.
Prison Journal: Day 8,403
August 12, 2010
Earlier this month I took a risk with my allotment of telephone minutes that didn’t pay off. It was a calculated risk that I based on experience. In the past, whenever administrators made changes or updates to the software our Inmate Telephone System (ITS) uses, every man in prison received a fresh 300 minutes of telephone access. When I called Carole on the first of this month I could tell from the recording that changes had been made to the phone system so I made the decision to talk freely. I didn’t think the minutes would count. I was wrong.
By the time I learned that every minute I spent on the phone was counting against my limit of 300 minutes I had already burned through 240 minutes. Because of that, I’ve refrained from using the phone since August 2nd. The separation from Carole felt painful as I’m used to connecting with her through short calls every day. I was bothered by my lack of phone minutes, but today the associate warden of Taft Camp announced that because the phone changes had disrupted so many families, the warden authorized every man to receive an additional 100 minutes. That welcome surprise has eased the anxieties that came from my telephone withdrawal.
As a long-term prisoner I place my connection to society among my highest priorities. All of my limitations require that I rely upon Carole, and when obstacles block me from talking with her I feel a suffocating feeling. For me, prison can feel like I’m underwater and she is a reed through which I draw my every breath. I drown without her. I felt so much better after calling her today.
Besides having access to the telephone again, the associate warden made an announcement that the email system at Taft Camp has moved into a new phase—whatever that means. She said technicians would soon schedule a time to begin introducing the system and installing computer terminals in the housing units. I’m told that each housing unit will receive one terminal, so it sounds as if it may be difficult to access. The unit I’m in confines 125 men, so there will be long lines. I don’t know when we’ll have it or how difficult the terminal will be to access. Whatever the situation, I’m eager for the development. I’ve never sent an email message so the technology will be new and exciting for me—something like a person who once used a telephone for the first time experienced.
Ran 10 miles / 5,425 miles in 608 days
300 pushups / 87,000 pushups in 2010
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,402
August 11, 2010
Today I began serving my 24th consecutive year in prison. I don’t mind. Prison has become a completely normal part of my life, the only life I know. I work hard every day to prepare for my return to society, and I’ve been ready for many years, but regardless of how hard I work release doesn’t strike me as being much more than a fantasy. The barriers are still too high, with years of climbing ahead. I’ll take one day at a time, working to build resources I will need to triumph over the obstacles to come.
Although I have adjusted well to my imprisonment, I think back to how difficult my arrest in 1987 must have been for my parents and sisters. It must have devastated them. I was facing charges that could bring this ridiculously long term. Despite the strength I tried to portray, my family must have been humiliated and fearful of my fate. I don’t have children, so I won’t know what pain my mother and father must have gone through as a consequence of the reckless decisions I made in my early 20s. I’m sorry for the pain I caused. My imprisonment must have been very hard on my mother, father, and sisters than it was on me. I adjusted and tried my best to grow through the decades I served, to lead a meaningful life. But my family members, it would seem, had to move on with their lives without me. Losing a family member to prison would challenge any parent or sibling.
Despite this being my 24th August 11 in prison, I remember the day of my arrest clearly. I remember the sound of handcuffs clicking as they locked my wrists behind my back and I remember being led into that first holding cell. I looked around and wondered how long it would last. I still wonder how long it will last as I don’t have a clear indication as to when I’ll be released. It’s still an open road ahead, though I know the worst case is only three more years.
Three years doesn’t daunt me. In fact, prison doesn’t daunt me. I’m more focused on the next four months. In December my wife graduates from nursing school and I will have more information about a prison transfer. Those changes are real, but when they come prison will still be the context of my life. I’m looking forward to learning something new, but those visions are still surreal while I listen to guards walking around with their clanking keys.
I’ll keep climbing. Next year on this day I’ll begin serving my 25th consecutive year. I’ll have more clarity then, I think. For now I must continue to rely upon my work to push through the darkness.
Ran 10 miles / 5,415 miles in 607 days
500 pushups / 86,700 pushups in 2010
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,401
August 10, 2010
According to the figures I’ve read, taxpayers have already spent more than $700,000 to confine me for the past 23 years. Yet they will spend another $100,000 to keep me in prison for the remaining years I must serve. That cost is to confine me—one prisoner who was as ready for release as he ever would be more than 15 years ago.
Newspapers I read today describe the effects of the financial crisis in cities across America. Some cities (leaders) have made decisions decisions to turn off thousands of street lights to save electricity. Some cities have closed schools on Fridays to save money, leaving children with shortened academic years. All states have cut finding for social services. The prison system, on the other hand, continues to thrive, swallowing up billions in taxpayer funds every week.
As a prisoner I live in a cave without a full understanding of why taxpayers are not demanding prison reform. I know that lobbyists who represent the prison system influence the debate, but common sense suggests that as people drive on dark streets and scramble for childcare because kids are out of school, millions of people would question the wisdom of pouring financial resources into such a wasteful system.
Certainly our nation’s prison system serves a purpose in confining violent, predatory offenders. But the prison lobbyists have succeeded in growing this system into a colossal waste of human lives and taxpayer resources by confining tens of thousands of nonviolent offenders for years and decades. What a waste! The prison camp where I’m held in Taft, California, doesn’t have a fence and hundreds of the men who serve time alongside me have job assignments in the community every day. No one here is deemed a threat to society, yet every year taxpayers spend tens of thousands to feed, clothe, and confine each prisoner.
The strength of prison unions result in prison staff members earning exorbitant salaries in excess of $50K that would only merit $20K in the private sector. Still, I don’t hear any calls for prison reform. Instead of reserving prisons for those who prey on society, taxpayers have authorized their expansion to the point where America now leads the world in imprisonment. We incarcerate more people on the earth than any other nation, and yet taxpayers don’t seem to think anything is wrong. We close down schools in order to keep prisons open. We deny health care coverage to people in order to ensure that nonviolent prisoners do not leave prison one day early.
Priorities seem out of whack from my perspective.
Ran 10 miles / 5,405 miles in 606 days
500 pushups / 86,200 pushups in 2010
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,400
August 9, 2010
Kimbel, a long-term prisoner, walked out of Taft Camp this morning after 20 years of incarceration. I was writing at the table where I work every morning when I saw him carrying his box of personal belongings. He is now in his late 50s, as physically fit as a man in his early 30s, and filled with optimism for all the excitement that will come with freedom.
As he waited for the guard to unlock the door I spoke with him. He told me that his sister and her family were going to pick him up at 7:00 a.m. They would drive to Oakland, where he would serve the final six months of his term in a halfway house—or possibly transfer to a home-confinement program. Kimbel is fortunate in that he will not be burdened with any conditions of supervised release, so once his time with the BOP concludes he will be free.
I felt a bit emotional as we were talking this morning. My departure, also, is coming very quickly. When I am released a flood of emotions will overwhelm me. I know it. I could feel it this morning as I was saying goodbye. Kimbel and I were not particularly close friends, but we worked together the past couple of years in our outreach program to help at-risk kids. My emotions this morning had more to do with the camaraderie he and I shared as long-term prisoners. With Kimbel’s departure, I don’t know any other prisoners at Taft Camp who have been incarcerated for more than 15 years. That means I’ve been imprisoned for a decade longer than anyone else in this prison, and for 20 years longer than most of the men around me.
I empathize with every person in prison, but my perceptions differ because I’ve been incarcerated for so much longer than everyone else. I have plans and I feel well prepared to thrive upon release. But it sure feels good to see another long-term prisoner walk out. Some day Carole will pick me up and we’ll begin our life together. Exciting!
Ran 10 miles / 5,395 miles in 605 days
500 pushups / 85,700 pushups in 2010
Monday, 9 August 2010
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