“Pavlov’s Prisoners and the Prison Program Paradox”

“Pavlov’s Prisoners and the Prison Program Paradox”

“Pavlov’s Dog” illustration (Pavlov 1928 & Goodwin 1991, p. 138).

On Tuesday, February 10, I attended a ‘criminal justice reform’ conference at the Washington Post in Washington, DC called “Out of Prison, Into Society.” It was very well attended by organizations and individuals interested in the current national trend to reform our criminal justice system.

The list of guests was impressive and included Valerie Jarrett, Senior Advisor to President Barack Obama and Sen. Mike Lee (R-Utah), as well as Bernard Kerik, former NYC Police and Correction Commissioner and former federal prison inmate.

While this morning’s agenda focused on federal criminal justice reform issues including sentencing and re-entry, the dialogue is identical to what has been taking place all around the country as states struggle to deal with constitutional requirements to balance budgets and look to reducing prison populations as one way to accomplish that.

The rise in prison population is generally blamed on the “war on drugs” but that is just where the finger points. The truth is, money is a great motivator, and particularly so in the area of incarceration. It was greed and profit incentive that created the prison industrial complex in the first place, and it was that industry which created what I termed in my prison blog The Oakdale Chronicles, “America’s Culture of Incarceration.

While Sen. Lee’s bill has come under recent criticism and attack, there is far too much talk on the subject to imagine that passage will not occur at some point. I applaud his efforts and I was impressed with what I heard this morning from Ms. Jarrett, Mr. Lee, and all of the others who participated.

Mr. Kerik offered a perspective that was different in that he spoke from the dual perspective as one who spent a lifetime locking people up, and as one who himself spent 3 years behind bars. Since Mr. Kerik was a federal inmate his stories struck a familiar chord with me since I was a federal prison inmate for 4 years from 2010 to 2014.

One area of his contribution was to talk about ‘programs’ offered by the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) as a means of preparing inmates for re-entry into society. In particular, Mr. Kerik mentioned Adult Continuing Education (ACE) self-study courses offered on the compound where he served his time. He named several titles of some of the classes, including ‘chess’, ‘checkers’, and ‘quilting’ and wondered how, exactly, those would contribute to anyone’s successful re-entry into society.

Good question.

I served my time at Oakdale FCI in Oakdale, LA and 24 ACE courses were offered. While some of the titles were on subject matter that might be beneficial, I met not one person who actually completed any of the courses. The common practice was to ‘buy’ completion of the entire series from the library clerk (an inmate) for 2 books of stamps. Stamps served as compound currency, and this was just one of the many prison ‘hustles’ employed by inmates.

The other way to complete the series was to obtain them one at a time and take the ‘tests’ at the end, which sounds good, but each and every book in the series had the answers to the test questions underlined, so all ‘students’ did was leaf through the pages and fill in the blanks.

Everyone is familiar with Pavlov’s conditioning of dogs to anticipate the ‘reward’ of food when they heard him ring the bell. When the ACE series was ‘completed’ a certificate was issued, as they were for all other programs offered, and these certificates became the reward that was anticipated when the programming ‘bell’ was rung.

Unfortunately, it was so important for the prison staff to demonstrate that they were helping to move men forward, to improve them as individuals, to educate them and to prepare them for re-entry that the check-mark of completion became the goal rather than the accomplishment of anything of genuine significance. The promise that a collection of certificates would make them look good to the probation officer that would supervise their release contributes to the conditioning that makes the certificate the benefit, rather than the actual learning of the content of the material represented by the certificate.

The paradox is that while programming seems like a good idea, the results gleaned are less than acceptable or desirable. The focus needs to be on education, and not just of the rubber stamp or ‘book-of-stamp’ variety. It needs to be genuine, verifiable, and meaningful.

While Mr. Lee’s bill addresses the absolute insanity of some of the sentencing practices which have contributed to the 900% growth of the federal prison population since 1980 (as stated by Mr. Lee), there was far too little discussion addressing 1) prison education initiatives, and 2) de-incentivizing the profits that are harvested through the unconscionably large ‘crop’ of human beings incarcerated in this country.

Kudos to the Washington Post, and to all who see the problems that exist in our criminal justice system today and are trying to do something to correct what was an extremely bad idea to begin with, and has only gotten worse since. As we all know, there are no simple answers, but with people like Ms. Jarrett, Sen. Lee, Mr. Kerik, and the other esteemed members of the discussion panels speaking up about the problem, combined with the support of media organizations such as the Washington Post, perhaps we can one day silence the ringing of Pavlov’s bell.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Entry 22

By Diane S.

It will end…

“For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long.  Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever.  So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen.  For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.”   2 Corinthians 4:17-18

Eventually this season of my life will be over and Chris will be out of jail.  It will not last forever, there isn’t anything on this earth that is forever.

“The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.”   Isaiah 40:8

I tell myself this a lot…it’s not forever, it’s just 8 years.  Some days that is a good encouragement, other days thinking about 8 years cripples me.

I spent 4th of July weekend visiting my husband. It was my 3rd visit. A couple of people told me how terrible and sad it was that I was spending my 4th of July weekend at a prison instead of doing fun things like cooking out or swimming. I can see their point, but my mind doesn’t think like that. I was thankful I was spending my 4th at a prison talking, sitting and holding hands with my husband instead of going to put flowers on a grave. I couldn’t help but think of all the wives of fallen soldiers who would spend that day visiting graves and wishing their husbands were still with them while I was sitting in prison visiting with my husband because their husbands fought for the freedom for me to be able to do that. I’m not sure if my mind should work that way, but I’m okay with it because if I keep in that perspective I can deal with everything much better.  My nightmare will end, but those women visiting graves have no end until they leave this earthly life for a better eternity.

Like I said, I don’t know if that is the right way to think about this but it gets me through.

The 3rd visit was the best to date. I enjoyed the visit. Saturday I visited by myself, just my husband and I for 6 hours….well just us and the 100 other people in the visiting room. It is strange how everyone else in a big room like that can just disappear and it really does feel like it’s just the two of us. The first time I visited I wondered if I would ever be able to feel that way in the visiting room, I am happy to report that two months in and it has already become easier. The end of the visit on both days did not end in tears. The drive home wasn’t filled with tears. The following days were not filled with depression and darkness.

It was easier and at this point I guess that is all I can really ask for.

My husband is doing well. He has tested for his GED and I’m sure he passed that test. He has made “friends”, if you ever really do make friends in jail. He has found that he likes ramen noodles. He likes instant coffee. He uses mackerels to “buy” things from other inmates, like if he runs out of Dr. Pepper before his next commissary day, he “buys” one for a mackerel from someone who has some. I am never surprised by things he tells me. The saying that necessity is the mother of invention probably originated from a prisoner; it is quite interesting the things that can be made and figured out when you have limited resources. Things like using the top of a Comet can for a cheese grater or using the razor blade from a shaving razor and a magnet for a knife. I am never bored by his stories. He doesn’t enjoy his life but he doesn’t hate it from what I can tell. He hides it well if he does but I truly don’t think he is miserable. I am not miserable either, most days. I am getting better at finding joy, even if it is in very small doses some days. Chris seems to be settling in for the most part. He calls often, we write often but not as much as the first month which worries me a little. We are only two months in and we already write every other day or so instead of every day. I guess it’s all part of finding a ‘new normal’ but it worries me. What if it keeps falling off and eventually we stop all together?

I pray that we don’t become distant; I pray that we become closer. Closer to each other, and closer to God.

We are still so new to this journey, we haven’t seen any real difficulty yet, I imagine.  I know there are much harder things in my future, but I also know that one day this chapter will in fact end.  It won’t last forever.

One of my favorite ‘truths’ is something Tim Tebow said after a football game a few years ago:

“I don’t know what my future holds but I do know WHO holds my future.”

And really, that’s enough for me.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Twenty One

Numbness & Obligation

Those two words sum up where I am right now.

I’ve just been in a “blah” state the last week or two. I haven’t really been able to figure out why. There hasn’t been much emotion in anything I’ve done. I’ve done things because I know I am supposed to. There hasn’t been any joy or happiness or anything for me in the last couple of weeks. I don’t really find enjoyment in anything.

I’m just numb.

All my feelings seem to be numb, even the hurt the last week or so. It’s all just numb, all the feeling is gone. Numb isn’t a good feeling. I’d rather feel pain because if I don’t feel the pain then I can’t feel the joy. I’m not numb to just the bad stuff, I seem to be numb to all of it.

I’ve said prayers but they feel empty. I say them out of obligation because I know I am supposed to. I mean them, but there isn’t emotion attached to them. I read my Bible daily but lately they are just words and don’t stir my heart. I go to church and Bible studies, but my mind isn’t focused. I give but it’s not with a cheerful heart, it’s because the Bible tells me I’m supposed to. I do it because I feel like if I don’t do it then my financial situation will spiral further down and if I give to God then it’s okay for me to ask for His help in my situation. I know it doesn’t work like that but when you are in a mindset of obligation rather than cheerful and joyful it’s kind of how you think. Somewhere along the beginning of this journey my heart for God has gotten muddied. My heart has become more a heart of obligation rather than a soft heart full of joy and cheerfulness and I don’t like it at all.

This was from my devotional  last Friday:

“God is not fooled by good behavior that springs from a hard heart. Obeying Him with an unwilling spirit may achieve His purpose, but we lose the joy of our reward. Perhaps the Lord has called you to serve Him in a way that is personally challenging. As you commit to following His will, pray also for a soft heart. You will find peace and blessing in doing the work if you follow Him without hesitation.”

That day, God revealed to me that I have become this way. I didn’t figure it out on my own, He showed me. I am not sure how to fix it, but I have been praying about it.

It wasn’t until last night that God revealed to me that I have also become numb. I have become numb to God. I have become numb to my husband. I have become numb to my family. I realized last night that I am un-interested in the daily phone calls lately. I don’t think I wrote but maybe 4 letters last week, I was writing one, sometimes two every day. I wanted to write, I thought about it, but then I just didn’t. It’s kind of like praying has been. I want to pray, I want to say meaningful prayers but they just aren’t.  I don’t really feel anything. I don’t feel sad, I don’t feel joy, I don’t feel excitement, I don’t even feel worry,  I don’t feel a real-connection to God lately, I don’t feel emotionally connected to my husband,.   Our conversations are so, un-personal. I am not even sure if that is the right word.  You just can’t really talk to someone in 6-7 minutes a day especially when you know that every minute on the phone is costing money & taking minutes from his ‘minute bank’. I am so concerned that we will talk too much that he will run out of minutes before the end of the month that when we do talk I am hurried to get off the phone.

How much sense does that make?  NONE.

It’s a perplexing place to be, probably not an unexpected place to be, but perplexing for sure.  I know there are many stages of this new journey that I will go through.  After all, we are not even 2 months into this thing yet and we have an awfully long way to go. I am sure there are many more things I will feel and experience before I get to a place where I can function at a normal capacity emotionally.

I’m not necessarily doing badly right now. I don’t spend my days crying lately. I just don’t feel much of anything. I’m not sure how to explain it. I am numb and I am not feeling overwhelming emotions of love but I know my love for Jesus and my love for my husband is still very deep and real in my heart. Maybe feeling numb is a defense mechanism of my heart. My husband has hurt me a lot and I have no doubt that is probably where the numb feelings are coming from. It’s easier to not feel than to hurt, but it’s not a good way to be. I know God hasn’t hurt me. He is not capable of hurting His children, but in my human form it feels very painful and it’s hard to not feel like He is hurting me. I seem to have become somewhat numb towards God too. I know he has a higher purpose and I know it will end up for good, but right now it just feels like hurt.

And I am very tired of hurt

God revealed these couple of things to me over the last few days. I’m so thankful He did, too. If I hadn’t been listening I could have missed what he was telling me. I would continue to drift along in obligation and numbness and eventually I’d look up and be so far away from God I’d wonder how I’d ever get back. Lately I feel pretty far from Him, but it does make me feel a little better because even if I am not feeling a strong connection right now there has to be something there because I was able to recognize what he was showing me about myself over the last few days.

I can now make a conscious effort to change and I can pray for God to help me through these things.

 

“The Privilege Of Knowing The Prisoner’s Wife”

One Through Twenty: Tony’s Take

by Tony Casson

“Raw” is the title of Eddie Murphy’s 1987 stand-up act. It was very aptly named.

But ‘raw’ is also how I would describe what we have all been privileged to read from the moment Diane Shellhart began taking us along on her journey starting on May 11 here in these “Chronicles”. What we have all witnessed has been very raw: raw emotion; raw feelings; raw pain; raw honesty; raw doubts; raw truth.

The difficulties of the individual trials we each face are an inescapable truth; an integral component of our lives here on earth. But to share the impact of those trials and reveal our fears, our weaknesses, our shame, our pain, and our faith in a public forum such as this is admirable, and we should all be grateful to Diane and humbled by her words. We should be thankful and encouraged. We should hold her up to others as an example of what we can endure when we look to God for our strength, our comfort, and our answers.

All it took for Eddie Murphy to be ‘raw’ was a filthy mouth and a desire to shock his audience. For Diane, it takes a strength she often indicates she doesn’t think she has. That strength is always there, though, and she always credits God with giving it to her. Eddie Murphy has no idea what ‘raw’ means, but Diane does.

For my part, I am honored she allows me to try to help her share her incredible story. She could have chosen to start her own blog, or to just remain silent completely and suffer in her silence. I pray God gives her the understanding that her words help others. Maybe not a significant portion of the population, but her words do help people.

They help me.

They help reinforce my resolve to do something to change “America’s Culture Of Incarceration”. Her words provide me with reasons to praise God, and opportunities to pray for others. The words she writes with an honesty that often brings tears to my eyes help me to think less of myself and more about other people.

Do they help you, too?

If they do, please let her know. Comment here. Encourage her. Email her directly at d.shellhart@yahoo.com.

My take on the first 20 of Diane’s posts is that it is a privilege to know her, even if it is only through her powerfully written words.

What’s yours?

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Nineteen

by Diane S.                                                                                                      Written: June 16, 2015

Visit: Two

Another visit.

Another heart breaking good-bye.

Another long drive home with entirely too much time to think.

Another terrible night and day of complete brokenness.

Will it ever get easier? Part of me wants to believe that it will; part of me believes it never will. It was Thursday after the weekend of my first visit before I began to function as a somewhat normal human. This week it’s Tuesday and I am functioning (mostly) again. Sunday night was awful, Monday until about mid-afternoon was terrible and then the despair started lifting a little. After sleeping for 12 hours last night I feel much more capable of handling this day.

So maybe it will get easier. I’ll pray for that. It may get easier but it will never be right; leaving him there isn’t right.

It will never be right and it will never be ok.

Visit two was…interesting. It was raining on Saturday morning when we had to get in line. There is no cover and you stand outside in the rain. The BOP gets in no hurry to process visitors to help get them out of the rain. You stand and wait, just like on a sunny day. I was completely ill-prepared and we didn’t have umbrellas. Luckily I am from the south and we improvise pretty well so we bought a box of trash bags at the last gas station before you turn onto East Whatley road and made our own ponchos.

This brought on the first of two meltdowns of my 12 year old. He was absolutely adamant that he was not going to wear a trash bag with a hole ripped out for his face to keep him from getting wet. He didn’t want to look stupid. He lost that argument and a small meltdown ensued. Luckily my mother-in-law was there with me and she is wonderful at calming him down. It never got to crisis level and I am thankful for that.

I know that standing in line outside in the rain looking at a prison complex with huge fences and razor wire all around and knowing that your dad is inside there isn’t an easy thing to grasp.

I also know that the meltdown was just triggered by the “poncho” situation but the real emotion spilling down his cheeks was something much more than just having to wear a trash bag poncho. Note to self, buy umbrellas to avoid situation next time

We survived that ordeal and we stood in line in our trash bag ponchos. We stood in line until 9:15 that morning. We were sure we wouldn’t make it in before 10am count, but we did. However the inmates didn’t make into the visiting room until after count so we sat in the visiting room for about an hour waiting for Chris to get in there. I was thankful though, because we were out of the rain.

I met a very nice woman in line Saturday morning and I sat by her during the hour we waited for the inmates while we were in the visiting room waiting for count to clear so they could come in. We talked and I found out they are on year 7 of a 12 year stay. I talked with her son and her grandchildren. That woman and her son gave me hope. It was very encouraging to see them and talk with them. I loved talking to her son and hear him talk about his dad in conversations very normally like his dad was there as part of his life every day. This kid loved Elvis and was telling me all kinds of things about Elvis and he would say “my dad told me” or “my dad” about every other sentence. It made my heart full to know that this journey can be done. Marriages can survive, children can still thrive and have a relationship with their dad. I am sure they have hard days & their walk isn’t easy but they provided hope and encouragement for me that day and I am thankful God put them around me for me to see my ‘bread crumbs’ for the day.

The check-in process was much the same and as smooth as the last time I visited. I am thankful for the team we had Saturday doing visitor check-in because the team on Sunday wasn’t cooperative. We decided that when we got into the visiting room we would sit on the opposite side of the room and my mother in law would sit in the regular spot they have been sitting for a few weeks now. If you read my last entry you know that we surprised him and he had no idea his son and I were there. We waited until he sat down with his mom and then we walked around and stood in front of him.

This was an interesting part for me.

I wanted and was expecting a movie type reaction, you know when someone gets a good surprise in a movie and it’s just a great reaction with some tears and huge hugs, etc. Yea, not so much….that didn’t happen. He looked at his son and then at me, with what I can only describe as shock and all he said was “what are ya’ll doing here?” I don’t think I’ve ever left someone completely speechless but that was the case.

Shocked and speechless.

It was a good 15 seconds before it sank in and hugged either of us. I wasn’t sure if he was happy we were there or not. It was about half an hour before I could finally tell he was thrilled to see us.

That was the highlight of Saturday, the visit was filled with questions from his son, chatting about all kinds of things, and of course the ever important vending machine selections.

Saturday night we made a trip to Walmart to buy umbrellas since the forecast called for more rain on Sunday and I didn’t want a replay of the trash bag poncho meltdown again Sunday morning. Apparently things to keep you from getting wet in the rain are triggers for meltdowns from my 12 year old. There was another meltdown in Walmart over a $5 umbrella Saturday night. Again, I know it was much more than the umbrella. That is just what triggered all the emotions of the day. My mother in law was with me again at Walmart and I am was grateful. In the end he did get the $5 umbrella because after that my heart was just broken and it’s just a $5 umbrella. He was much better Sunday after a decent night’s sleep and more sleep on the way to visit Sunday morning.

Sunday was a good day.

We got a first class lesson on how different things can be day to day at visitor check in. The team on Sunday wasn’t so great, I just kept telling Michael our only goal here is to get into the visiting room to see Chris, so we would do whatever they asked. Even if they weren’t nice to us we were going to be nice and gracious to them. Sunday the rules were no sleeveless tops/dresses even if you had a sweater over it. That has never been the rule before; I had to go change. You could not chew gum. Ladies that always bring in lip gloss couldn’t. The same bracelet I have worn each time I visited (including the day before) wasn’t allowed on Sunday. I keep a small piece of paper in my clear change purse with my car tag number on it and my husband’s inmate number on it since you have to have that for paperwork and they made me throw that way Sunday.

Sunday was definitely different.

I said after my first visit that I don’t know how anyone could follow the rules 100% since they change daily. It appears it is fairly normal for things to change.

Sunday was a good day, it was a good visit. I think we all enjoyed it.

Until we had to say goodbye, I hate that part. It’s the worst part. It breaks me. Every time. I have to leave the prison and drive 7.5 hours back to Tennessee. It’s a hard and sad drive each time. I cry a lot on those drives. On this drive looking over at my 12 year old asleep in the passenger seat completely exhausted on his way back from visiting his dad in prison was almost more than I could bear. He is 12, he should be sleeping on the way back from summer vacations or trips over the road with his dad in his 18 wheeler. He should not be sleeping on his way back from visiting his dad in prison.

This will be the next 8 years of our life.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Eighteen

By Diane S.

Surviving

I am not sure I am ready to say that I am “living” yet…well obviously in the technical sense I am definitely living because I am breathing. But in the sense that people refer to as “living”, as in experiencing life, living life to the fullest, or truly living, I can’t say I feel that way just yet.

I am surviving.

I am surviving better than I was a month ago, better than I was two weeks ago. I guess it’s true, things aren’t bad forever and they do get better. Slowly, but it seems to be true. Some days I even enjoy parts of the days.

Things are okay.  I’ve had more good days than bad ones lately which is a blessing. Chris calls daily.  We write daily.  He finally went to A&O a couple days ago. I believe that a new inmate is supposed to go to A&O within 7-10 days of arriving; he was there over a month before he went.  I am not entirely sure what A&O is, but I believe it is somewhat of an orientation.  I do know that he had to go through that before he could get an assigned a job. He seems to think he was “lost” in the system for a few weeks. It’s okay with me, he was able to get a little more acclimated and it seems to have done him good.

He started his GED classes this week too and he was excited about that.  I was more excited.  I have tried for 8 years to get him to get his GED. He is scared of failure so he never would. I am very proud of him for already tackling that, even if the prison did push him. He has done really well on all the pre-tests and only had to attend a week of classes. Again, I am very proud of him. Every time I talk to him he has a new thing on his list to check into and that makes me happy & proud of him. I would imagine it would be quite easy to do nothing during this time and just let time pass without much thought of bettering one’s self. I am thankful he doesn’t seem to be taking that path. He has read 2 books in the last two weeks.

If you knew my husband and knew how much he doesn’t like to read you’d understand how incredibly proud I am of him for that too.

It catches me off guard sometimes when he tells me things that make his day good or things he gets excited about. A couple of days ago they were having “lunch room pizza” (think of back when you were in elementary and had the rectangle pizzas) for lunch and he was quite excited about that.  I guess when your life is as his is now little things make you excited. In any case I am thankful that he can see things to be excited and thankful for, no matter how small they are….bread crumbs. I have been a bit sneaky this week and I have a pretty big thing for him to be excited about this weekend. My plan was that I wasn’t visiting again until July 3rd…But God!  We (his son and I) are leaving this afternoon (June 12) and will be at visiting this weekend, June 13&14. Today is Friday and I have managed to keep this a secret all week from pretty much everyone. Michael (my stepson) doesn’t know we are going and Chris doesn’t know we are coming. I absolutely cannot wait for him to walk into the visiting room and see us tomorrow. It’s going to be EPIC! I love surprises!!!

Chris and I started a Bible reading plan together so we are reading the same chapters daily & that is good for us. We write about what we read and how it affected each of us in our daily letters. It helps us stay connected and focused on God together.  He found a Bible study in his unit that meets on Monday and another that meets on Tuesday, he is enjoying those.  He and I have a pastor out of Dallas that we really enjoy listening to and his church puts sermon transcripts online & I print them and send to him. He loves that. I send him encouraging books and devotions. I try to do whatever I can from the outside to help him on his walk.

It appears Chris is moving to a different room within in his unit, I think that is happening today actually. That makes me apprehensive, a lot of things make me apprehensive. One of the guys in his room doesn’t seem to care for him much & it makes things a little uncomfortable sometimes. He never told me that before and he only told me because of the possible move.  Some of the guys he has met through the Bible study are in the same room and one of them is leaving any day now.  The guys in the room have been looking for a Christian guy to replace the one leaving. They asked Chris if he would be interested in moving if it was approved and last night he said it looked like that was going to happen today. I just pray about it. If it’s God’s will let it be done! And if not I pray that things get better with the one guy in his room.  He said something the other day about his “Brothers in Christ”, I have NEVER heard him say those words ever before so that was good.

I can tell by some of the things he says that he is growing in his walk and that is answered prayer.

This post was a little different from my usual ones.  This one was more about the day to day survival in this new journey, a glimpse into what goes on during our days…well it was mostly his days. It’s a bit less deep and bit more boring than the others.

So I will end here and wish you all happy weekend.  But before I go I would like to share one other thing before I go…

A wonderful friend shared a post a couple days ago and it contained this quote:

No matter the jarring, a jar of fresh water can’t spill filthy water.

I just love that and it really hit my heart. Over the last 18 months there have been many times when my emotions have got the best of me and I have been very hurtful and angry towards my husband during those times. There is/was filthy water (hurt, anger) in my jar (heart). I’m healing and those times when I lose control have happened much less. I am working on it….purifying my filthy water with Jesus.

 

(Editor’s Note: AMEN!)

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Entry Sixteen

By Diane S.

Broken.

That seems to be a word I often use to describe various things in my life lately.

My heart is broken. My life feels broken. My stepson’s spirit is broken. My mother-in-law’s heart is broken. My husband is a broken man on the mend. Our extended family has been broken apart as some have decided they just can’t support or even accept this situation. I understand that and I hold no fault towards them. Some can continue a relationship with me even though they don’t support my decisions & I am very grateful for the maturity on their part and mine to make those relationships work. Some have removed themselves completely because they can’t handle any aspect of the situation.

I understand  one of their concerns. I am not bitter towards them….anymore. My city is broken. This country is broken. The justice system in this country is VERY broken.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”  Psalm 147:3

All of the above mentioned brokenness can only be healed by Jesus. Unfortunately we live in a society where our leaders and politicians look anywhere and everywhere but Jesus for answers. In fact, they deliberately steer as far as they can from this very simple answer to all of this.

JESUS.

I don’t understand why that’s such a hard concept for people. Jesus. He’s the answer. It seems so easy that it is mind-boggling that people literally run in the other direction to avoid Him.

In the last week I have seen quite a few examples of just how broken the society we live in has truly become. My friend Tony just wrote an article on here called “Punishing the Innocent” and his article showcased some of the brokenness that I have not yet experienced just simply because my journey is so new. I am blessed to have such a wise friend who is always challenging my thoughts and making me look deeper into myself.

In my last post I mentioned how some people close to me reacted to finding out a sex offender was in their neighborhood. The reaction they had is so common, so normal, so broken. It is a reminder of society’s brain-washed mentality regarding ANYONE on the sex offender registry. It is like a scarlet letter. I never imagined I would ever relate with Hester Prynne on any level when I read this book in high school but I find the quote below to be quite accurate for not only the beginning of my journey but so many others with heart breaking stories just like mine:

“In all her intercourse with society, however, there was nothing that made her feel as if she belonged to it. Every gesture, every word, and even the silence of those with whom she came in contact, implied, and often expressed, that she was banished, and as much alone as if she had inhabited another sphere, or communicated with the common nature by other organs than the rest of human kind.” Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “The Scarlet Letter”

If you want proof of just how broken the justice system is read through your Facebook feed or scroll through the top stories on Yahoo or MSN. The stories are endless, each with their own brokenness. I am sure if you aren’t living under a rock you have heard about the current storm The Duggar family from Arkansas is going through. My thoughts on that one still aren’t coherent. I just don’t know how I feel other than sadness for a broken family and its broken victims. I’m not sure I have an opinion on the appropriate course of action at this point. I do know that his wife and children are suffering a great deal from a mistake he made a very long time ago and that is so very sad for all involved. There is a lot of brokenness surrounding that story and I can’t imagine having to try to deal with that while in the public eye.

I offer them my prayers but I truly don’t know where I stand on the issue.

In the last 12 hours our local news stations have posted two different stories about teachers having sexual relationships with students. They were both on-going relationships. One teacher brought the student to their home and gave the individual alcohol on some of the visits. He was sentenced to 6 years in prison and the judge suspended all but SIX MONTHS! In the other case, the child was under 14 and the teacher served 6 years. Meanwhile in federal prisons across this country people are serving 8, 10, 15, or even 20 year sentences simply because they downloaded a file from a music sharing site and it had hidden inappropriate images in it. The government tracked these photos to these people’s computers and the consequences include broken men, wives, children, mothers, brothers, sisters….etc.

These are people who didn’t go searching for those photos, they accidentally got them & promptly deleted them when they opened what they thought was music or a movie they downloaded for their child. These people are the faces of an incredibly large number of the sex offenders sitting in federal prisons serving 5+ year sentences. Meanwhile, we have teachers having physically inappropriate relationships with children they are trusted to TEACH that are serving SIX MONTHS, or sometimes all they receive is probation.

It’s not just stories about sex offenders either. Not long ago there was a story out of Atlanta in which a professional sports player admitted to shooting and killing a 22yr old mother as she was walking down a street. He had no reason other than he thought she was someone else. His sentence was short and he will end up serving 4-5 years, FOR TAKING SOMEONE’S LIFE! It makes me irate.

These stories are endless….these stories are sad……..these stories show us just how broken we are.

I can’t understand this logic. It doesn’t make sense to me. I need someone smarter than me to explain why my husband is sitting in jail for 8 years while these people are serving less harsh sentences. I understand that a big difference is that a lot of the cases like I mentioned above are ‘state’ cases where my husband’s and so many others fall under federal jurisdiction. If you didn’t know, many federal convictions have mandatory minimums. This means nothing matters and you get at least the mandatory minimum for whatever your charge may be. In Chris’ case it was 10 years. C

Chris was a first time offender, never been in trouble with law enforcement a single day in his life. He had over 20 character reference letters and he had a good lawyer. It didn’t matter. All that matters is the charge and mandatory minimum sentence that goes along with it. My husband did make mistakes, there is no question. He should be held responsible for his actions, there is no question.

Should he serve jail time? Maybe, but not 8 years.

I have never gone into detail about my husband’s case & I’m not sure that I will. I will say that he didn’t have a physical relationship with anyone and his charges aren’t related to computer pictures. He made a very bad decision and then was accused of some horrible things. Together those two things made for an incredibly difficult situation.

It’s a very broken system when your best option is to plead guilty to get a 10 year sentence rather than try to prove your case and risk getting a 30+ year sentence if you don’t win. And you probably won’t win. People shut down when they hear “sex offender”; details and truth don’t matter at that point.

When I first read the stories I mentioned above I was angry. I was angry at God, I was angry at those people. I was just angry. Then I realized those people made mistakes and it’s not my place to judge them. I realized those people also have family and friends that now have broken lives because of someone else’s choices. They could have spouses that are living a journey like mine. I realized there are actual real victims of their crimes that now have broken lives.

I was still angry with God.

How can he allow the things that have happened to us and let other people like those mentioned above have such an easier journey? Why does our journey have to be so hard? I was driving home last when it all hit and I had a meltdown. I was actually driving in my car in tears and yelling at God and asking him why. Why couldn’t we have got a 6 month sentence? Why didn’t God intervene at some point and stop some of this, any of this?

Why did he allow all this brokenness in my life?

Asking why doesn’t ever get me anywhere. Eventually I calmed down when the song “Just say Jesus” came on the radio & that’s exactly what I did for a good 5 minutes. I just said “Jesus” over and over. Then I prayed. Then I was okay.

The wires in my head get a little crossed when I think about the truth that God has a plan for us that includes this next 8 years. He also has a plan for the teacher who will spend 6 months in jail, and a plan for the one who will spend 6 years there. It’s just so hard to understand why his plan for us had to include this 8 years while so many others do things much worse (in the eyes of the law) than what Chris did and his plan for them includes much less punishment.

If you don’t get anything else out of this post I hope you remember this: Not everyone, in fact probably the majority, of people that are registered sex offenders never hurt and never would hurt anyone, especially a child. They didn’t go down a street and offer an 8 year candy to bride them into their dark van with no windows. Anytime you say someone is a sex offender in this society that is what people immediately think and it is just NOT TRUE. Of course there are some who did commit horrible unthinkable acts but it’s such a broken way of thinking to lump all 800,000 people on the sex offender registry into that category.

One day I hope I will no longer be able to identify with Hester Prynne.

It all just proves my point….

This world is a very broken place in need of the healing of Jesus Christ.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Entry Fifteen

by Diane S.

Understanding.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”  Proverbs 3:5

Sometimes we just have to accept what we don’t understand and there is a lot in this world that I do not understand.

I like to have cause and effect and reasons to explain why things happen. I’m learning that sometimes there simply is none. Our minds are not capable of understanding the vastness and complexity that is God’s sovereignty and His plan for us. We don’t usually understand that sometimes God doesn’t do what we want because he has something better for us even though at that time we can’t see anything better.

We just have to accept these things without understanding.

I find that to be the case often in my life, where I just have to accept the situation without understanding. I just have to trust God and lean into him. I ask him – often – to help me accept the things I don’t understand. Sometimes the only comfort I can find is knowing that God is in control. God already knows every tomorrow. God loves Chris more than I do. If I think about those things, understanding the “whys” becomes less important.

I’m an adult and growing in my relationship with Christ. I can accept this theory of not understanding yet accepting.

However, my husband’s 12 year old son isn’t quite there yet.

We don’t know just how this will affect him for the next 8 years and the rest of his life. We don’t really know how it will affect any of us, but I know I have a strong foundation of faith, a growing relationship with my Savior and many Christ following friends who will pull me up at my weakest times. I’ll be ok. My husband will be ok too. We will both be changed forever but that’s okay because ‘…but God’. I pray my stepson will be ok too, but he is young and vulnerable & I worry. There is no way to tell how this will affect him and if he will learn to lean on God for comfort. Right now, he is just hurt and sad. He doesn’t understand. He can’t really accept it. I pray God gives the adults in his life the guidance we need to be able to help him through this with the least amount of pain possible.

Yesterday he posted a video on social media he saw on someone else’s page. It was a video taken while someone was talking to a homeless man who had been in prison for 12 years. This man talked of the struggles he has had since his release from prison and what brought him to the place he is now….playing his guitar for change in front of a gas station with no job or place to call home. I can’t imagine what a 12 year old thought as he watched that video. I talked with him about it made sure he knew that wouldn’t be his dad’s situation.

He said he understood and I hope that he did.

I’m just ‘the prisoner’s wife’. The ‘prisoner’ also has a son and a mother. The ‘prisoner’ has a sister and brother. The ‘prisoner’ has dogs. The ‘prisoner’ has family and many caring, concerned friends. And they have all been deeply shaken by this situation. I don’t know of anyone who truly understands how we got here. Yet, we all accept it on some level and continue on. Each of us hurt in very different ways. I know what it feels like to be a prisoner’s wife, but I don’t know what it’s like to be a prisoner’s child or a prisoner’s mother.

One thing I do know is that we each feel like we are walking through different degrees of our own personal hell on some days.

I don’t understand why God hasn’t intervened on our behalf in the last 18 months. I don’t understand why He has allowed all of this happen and hasn’t stopped it. I don’t understand why everything had to be taken away leaving me by myself at a rock bottom of sorts where I am 33 years old and I can’t afford to live in a place of my own. I don’t understand why the sentence had to be 10 years instead of 5. The list of things I don’t understand is quite long. I could go on for a while but I’ll stop here.

I don’t understand these things but I accept them. I can only accept them because I know God is in control and if He has allowed these things then they serve a purpose in His plan.

His plan is not just ‘good’. His plan is not even ‘very good’. His plan is not ‘better’.

His plan is PERFECT.

So I will wait patiently for the Lord’s plan to come together. He is always right on time you know. I will go where He leads me and do what He asks me. I pray that my heart can be open and receptive enough to not miss it when He tells me where to go and what to do. I am often scared that I will not be paying close enough attention and I will miss something important He is trying to tell me, show me or ask me to do.

“Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength” Isaiah 40:31

The story of Ruth in the bible is a very good story that illustrates how God always has a plan, even when we can’t see anything but darkness. Nothing can come to God’s children unless he allows it. If he allows it to come to you it is because He has a plan to work it together for your good and His glory.

This is the very reason I am able to accept my current situation without having the slightest bit of understanding.

“Punishing The Innocent”

“At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter.”                2 Corinthians 7:11b  ESV

“We must stop thinking of the individual and start thinking about what is best for society.”         Hilary Clinton

I have refrained from commenting recently as I have posted Diane’s stories. Certainly not due to any lack of impact those posts have had on me as I have read, edited, and formatted them. Quite the opposite, in fact, as that impact has been real and – at various times – tearful, joyful, heart-wrenching, soul-searching, thought-provoking, and memory-stirring.

My mind has traveled back through time to the days of my own incarceration, and I am grateful to Diane for this. Some who read these words might find it odd that I would welcome being reminded of the time I spent in prison, but that time, for me, was a time of monumental personal growth. Mind you, not all who go to prison perceive it that way.

I am grateful to God as well, because it was He who saw fit to have our paths intersect at this point in our lives.

Additionally, I am grateful because Diane’s story reminds me to try to do something to demonstrate to society that “America’s Culture Of Incarceration” has evolved into ineffective policy that punishes more innocent people than guilty, and I am not referring to those behind bars who may be innocent. Rather, I am talking about those who are left behind when a father, mother, brother, sister, husband, wife, son, or daughter is removed from society and locked away to keep society ‘safe’.

When Hilary Clinton said, “We must stop thinking of the individual and start thinking about what is best for society”, I am pretty certain she was thinking something other than what I am going to suggest, but what she said is absolutely correct when interpreted the way I interpret it. “America’s Culture Of Incarceration” locks away individuals for tremendously long periods of time and for an ever-increasing variety of reasons. In its current state, our criminal justice system is focused entirely on the individual perpetrating the crime with little thought given to the greater number of lives negatively impacted by locking someone away for 5, 10, or twenty years. In its current state, that “culture” punishes far more innocent bystanders in far more devastating ways than the inconvenience of incarceration does the actual individual society thinks is being punished.

I quote from Diane’s last post: “One bad decision changed everything for so many people. I still can’t get over how this has affected every aspect of our life and the lives of SO many people around us. It is beyond my comprehension that the repercussions of one bad decision can devastate things so completely.”

In my four years of incarceration at Oakdale FCI, I encountered a mere handful of individuals who actually struggled with the fact that they were incarcerated. The vast majority of those in prison adapt quickly to the life that stretches before them. It may be disturbing or unsettling for family members and loved ones of those in prison (and society as whole for that matter) to consider the following, but prison, rather than teaching the burden of responsibility, removes it. Once we have resigned ourselves to our environment, prison life quickly becomes a matter of routine which is mostly unencumbered with the burdens and responsibilities of life. No bill-paying, no car repairs, no kids to worry about, no real job to go to. There is very little to think about beyond what is on the menu for the next meal, what is on TV, or what time will be spent in the library or in the ‘yard’.

Life is very simple, indeed.

For Diane, her step-son, her mother-in-law, and countless others, this simplicity does not exist. They are innocent of wrong-doing, but our ‘culture’ punishes them, and many, many others because, as Diane pointed out, “Life goes on.” The bills have to be paid, the car has to be repaired, the kids have to be cared for, and jobs must be performed without regard for the fact that “this has affected every aspect of our life and the lives of SO many people around us.”

In considering how we punish individuals who violate the rules and regulations of our society, we really should insist that those who are elected to make intelligent and informed decisions on our behalf are following Hilary Clinton’s unintended advice and “start thinking about what is best for society.” We must take the focus off of what we falsely perceive to be punishment for the guilty individual, and put it on the collateral damage caused by punishing those who are innocent.

There is a better way to change lives in a positive way. Destroying innocent lives in an effort to punish the guilty is not the way. May God be our guide and the guide of our leaders, and may we all push for major changes in “America’s Culture Of Incarceration”.

I applaud Diane’s willingness to share her heart, and her pain. It is my prayer that her willingness to do so will move others to stop punishing the innocent in the name of ‘justice’.

I thank you all for your time and ask that you all reach out to Diane and encourage her.

May God bless us all and keep us safe.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Entry Thirteen

by Diane S.

Visiting Day                                                                                                                               6.1.15

It’s now been a full week since I visited my husband at his new living quarters for the first time. The thing that seems to keep coming up in most of the posts is the fact that I was unprepared. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t even close.

I knew visits would be hard.

I thought there would be some happiness in the fact that I got to see him, talk to him, hold his hand, etc.   I try not to think much because I am usually not right. I kept telling myself that even though I am seeing him in prison it’s much better than many wives who visit a grave for their husbands. It really is too bad that the things I know to be true can run so far and so fast out of mind in the middle of a stormy situation. It’s usually not until after the fact that I remember what I told myself I was going to remember during the middle of the situation to help get me through.

A brief summary of my 3 days of visiting with my husband: they were sad, curious, a little small bit of happy, more sad, and the realization that I don’t think I will ever be prepared for anything coming my way in the next 8 years. It’s going to have to be a take as it comes type thing, otherwise I end up not being able to get out of bed for days. It doesn’t seem to matter how much I try to be prepared I never am so I think I’m going to stop stressing over it.

So here are some details about the actual weekend: We left at 4pm on the Friday before Memorial Day on our 6.5 hour drive to Chris’ aunt’s in Shreveport. My mother in law was concluding her move to Shreveport so she was in her car, I was in my car and off we went. We had a few hurdles, nothing major but when you get two women on a road trip there has to be a few “oops” along the way. After a detour through downtown Shreveport at 11:30 on Friday night around one of the biggest ‘mud bug’ festivals they have there, we made it to Chris’ aunt’s about midnight.

That’s a great time to get into town when you have to get up to drive 2.5 hours at 3am to get in line for visitation.

Let me say right here, I had greatly underestimated the dedication of these prison wives, mothers, fathers, aunts and uncles. We had “heard” people start lining up for visitation about 6am. We arrived to the ball field around the corner from the prison at 6:40 on our first day to visit. We were the 17th car in line. We weren’t sure we were in the right place, but you find many kind souls in the cars around you and they are more than happy to help out first timers. It turns out; visitors are not allowed onto prison property to the visitors’ parking lot until 8am. To circumvent that problem there is a very small ball field around the corner and you just pull up and get in a single file in your cars and wait until 8 am. And by wait, I mean you sleep until 7:30 and then get up and put on your make up.   At exactly 8am the first car in line starts their engine and line moves slowly from the ball field to the visitor parking lot at FCI Oakdale I.

Again, once you get out your cars here you find more nice folks who are happy to tell you how it works. In this case, it is important to notice who you are in line behind in the car line at the ball field because that is who you line up behind when you form your single file standing line at the edge of the prison parking lot.

You can find at out some really good information while standing in that line. We found out that a lot of wives get in line at 2-3am to make sure they are first in line. That’s dedication (most likely won’t ever be me). We also found out that if you aren’t in the 1st, 2nd or 3rd (on a good day) group of 10 in line you will likely not get processed in before the 10am ‘count’. The ‘count’ stops everything. If you do find yourself not being processed by about 9:30 you can take a seat on the ground because you won’t be going anywhere until after count clears which seems to be about 10:45-11am. We made it in before count on the first, after count on the second day, and before count on the third day. We haven’t found any rhyme or reason to the times people arrive. All three days we arrived at different times and all three days we were in very different spots. We have decided it’s just a game of chance.

We also found out that rules change….daily. The first day ladies were allowed to wear white pants in for visiting, the second day they sent them back out to change. ALWAYS have a complete change of clothes for everyone in your visiting party. The first day our bras were ok to pass the metal detector, the second day they weren’t but they gave us a warning. If you showed up on third day and couldn’t pass you didn’t get in to visitation. I think the prison and Wal-Mart right down the street has an agreement because after the second day we saw 4 other visiting groups correcting their bra situations by purchasing new ones before the next day’s visit. They also turned people away for not having the right shoes on the first two days but the third day several people were allowed in with sandals. I’m not sure how anyone could make sure they follow all the rules when they are different every day.

Overall the process to get into visitation is mostly painless; it just takes a little time. We figured out on day 2 that if someone goes in and gets the paper work you have to fill out and it’s completed when they call your group it does go much faster. Once you are called you go in, give them your id, do the metal detector, get your hand stamped (I still don’t understand the reason for that one) and then you are lead through 2 locked doors, across a breezeway, through 2 more locked doors and in a large room with 150 plastic chairs, and 6 vending machines. That is all the excitement for the next 6 hours. Well, other than trying to pick out the seat you think will be the most private in a room that large with many other people and then making the decisions as to what the menu is for that day from snack machines. You better go to the snack machines early, prison food must not be all that great because the food in those machines goes QUICK and it’s really not great food. Who knew chicken wings could be in a vending machine and just be heated up in a microwave.

Anyway…I digress.

The first day was the most difficult for me. I was in tears before my husband ever came in, and in more tears when he did walk in. The tears were off and on all day. He looked the same; he hadn’t even started to lose weight yet. He had got a haircut and pretty much shaved it all off, it was so short it didn’t look he had any hair at all. He had to pay 3 mackerels for that hair cut (we’ll chat about mackerels in another post). Leaving was HARD that day even though I knew I’d be back the next day.

Leaving that place and leaving him there WILL NEVER BE RIGHT. EVER and I HATE IT.

I had a complete and total meltdown later that night after we got back to his aunt’s house. It was an overwhelming sadness and sorrow I have never felt before. I had to leave his aunt’s for a while and just be alone to pray. Knowing that was the best it was going to be for 8.5 years is a very difficult thing to try to accept.

If wasn’t real before the first visit, it gets very real after it.

The next two days were better, we laughed, we joked, we talked, we held hands…it was almost normal, I guess it is the new normal. I don’t like it. I am thankful they aren’t strict and you can hold hands, hug and be close (within reason) throughout the entire visit. Very grateful. The worst part was leaving Monday afternoon, not knowing how long it would be before I would be able to afford another trip. It was heartbreaking. It was like saying goodbye the first day all over again. For two entire days I didn’t think I’d ever want to visit again. Entry Twelve went further into the horrible week last week was.

I almost let it take me down and not get back up, but I did.

The visiting room is a very interesting place. I learned that once in the visiting room you don’t talk to the people you made acquaintances with in line. In the visiting room it is you and your inmate, no one interrupts anyone else. It’s almost like everyone has a little bubble that appears around them and their visitors and no one really notices anyone else. Even the inmates that know other inmates don’t say more than “what’s up”. It appears it’s an unwritten respect that everyone knows and follows. You also know by the second day that some people must come there often and have certain seats they sit in. So you don’t sit there if you see those people in line for visiting.

I have a curious mind, a very curious mind.

My mind wandered all day wondering what brought all these very different men to this one place. Everyone has a story. You see these men with their wives (that you probably talked to in the waiting line) and kids and how they light up when they are with them and it’s hard to imagine they did something that truly warrants them being there. Then again, I sit in the same room visiting my husband. I observe a lot, like the guy who had a different woman visitor every day and they all appeared to be his girlfriend by how friendly they were.

I probably observe too much actually.

There is a lot to observe, there is also a lot of hurt in a lot of eyes you see in that room. I came to the conclusion that overall the visiting room is a happy place, at least most everyone puts on a happy face. Everyone seems genuinely happy to be there and be able to spend time with their inmates. I didn’t fall into that category this first visit. I pray that one day I will, but the first visit was far more sadness than happiness for me.

It’s comical the amount of times I have been asked “is it like TV” since last weekend. In a short answer, NO it’s not like TV at all…at least not at the facility where Chris is. There is nothing but 150 plastic tan chairs in the visiting room, no tables, no board games, and no card games. You can’t go outside to picnic tables or anything else. There is a small playroom for children that has 1 table, 8 small plastic chairs, and some books. It’s funny how easily kids can entertain themselves. There is a desk in the front with a monitor, I assume it has feeds from all the cameras around the room. A CO sits pretty quietly at that desk and during the 3 days I visited was pretty nice to everyone. We didn’t have to sit and talk on phones through a glass wall, although I do think at higher security prisons that does happen. You are in that room sitting in those chairs for 6 hours, no cell phones, no iPad, no TVs.

I kind of liked it that way, no distractions. You actually communicate with each other. My first experience is that the visiting room is a very calm and safe environment.