For the Lives of Prison Wives

For the Lives of Prison Wives

Waiting for Our Prison Break

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No, we’re not waiting on a real life prison break, but we are waiting on a permanent break from prison!  It’s long overdue…

I wouldn’t have thought that the day my then-fiancé left home for the morning and hollered to me, “Baby, I’m gone,” that he would be gone for 12 years—literally—and he’s still gone. I often reflect back on his last words as a free man as he walked out the door.

My husband was arrested that day in 2005 and charged with drug conspiracy, money laundering, and gun possession. I was pregnant with our son, and our daughter was three years old at the time of his arrest. Our children are now in middle school and high school. We’ve done the best we can to maintain our family bond through the wall via visits, letters, emails, and phone calls. When my husband was first sentenced, we talked every day, but that eventually had to be lessened to once a week because the calls got too expensive. We then turned to more letter writing and eventually email. Out of all these years, we probably have visited only about 20 times due to the cost to travel so far to see him.

When we see each other, my husband is literally seeing the results of the stages of life that our children have gone through that he hasn’t been a part of. He has watched our children grow from infancy to childhood, to adolescence. I’m hoping and praying he doesn’t have to just watch them grow into young adulthood, and that he’ll be able to experience that growth with them. We have even watched each other change over the years from young adults to middle-aged. My Mister entered prison in his twenties and will be 40 this year. When I was visiting last time, he saw a gray strand of hair on my head for the first time! I think that gray strand of hair shocked us both into reality and reminded us of how long we’ve been at this prison thing and how we still have a while to go. I couldn’t help but imagine how long the couple seated near us had been visiting each other. He had come out gray-haired, wrinkled, and on a walker to visit with his wife, who was just as gray and wrinkled as he was.

With fewer visits and the children being caught up in their young teenage years, there are times that the kids don’t communicate with their dad as much as he’d like them to. It’s left up to me to keep the lines of communication open. So in addition to the stress of not having his freedom, he is also struggling with the fact that he sometimes feels like he’s not important to his children. The children also struggle with why their dad made some of the choices he made that put him where he is today. I try to explain to them that everyone’s lives go in stages. And people do make mistakes. However, some mistakes are more costly than others. I do believe that my husband made a mistake and is now paying the consequences for his mistake. He has served 12 years of his 22-½-year sentence, which is more than enough time to pay for his mistake.

Just as my husband has been made to come forward and admit his mistake, at what point will something be done about the mistakes that are made with harsh sentencing laws? How long must someone suffer for a nonviolent mistake of their youth?

My husband was raised by his father, who believed in a tough-love approach to parenting. He had to fend for himself at an early age. What he sought in life more than anything was his father’s approval. His father was able to visit with him and see the man he was praying for him to one day be. Unfortunately, he passed and they won’t be able to spend time together. Though he will not be able to spend time with his father, he still would like the opportunity to make new memories with his mother.  He is looking forward to the day they can be together again.

Before prison, though my husband appeared to have himself together to others, he was dying inside, from a young age. During his teenage years, he began to live a rebellious lifestyle. He graduated from high school and attended college, where he became even more rebellious. It was during those years that his life really began to spiral out of control as he began an addictive lifestyle of selling and using drugs. The streets made him a different person. Even through that rebellious stage, my husband still managed to graduate from college with a B.S. in Business.

He has realized the impact that his bad choices have made upon his family. It pains him daily to know that his actions have caused his children to grow up without him. He can’t wait for the day to experience life as a free father to his children, teaching them life lessons, becoming a productive member of society, and advocating for justice reform. It pains us daily to know that my husband has made the necessary efforts through rededicating his life to Christ, self-rehabilitation, attending classes, and good behavior, yet he still continues to serve time for a decade-old crime—as is the case with many incarcerated women and men.

The Teaching Prison Wife: Both Sides of the Game…The School to Prison Pipeline

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If you think the school to prison pipeline doesn’t exist think again.  The pipeline often starts in low income schools and and ends at the country’s prison system. When I first entered the classroom as a teacher, the Mister was in prison.  I had no idea what I was walking in to.  I was nervous about teaching because I didn’t major in education and had no experience as a teacher.

My major was biology and I honestly hadn’t picked up a biology book, or anything biology related, since I graduated  five years earlier.  I remember walking into the classroom not knowing what to expect and what to really do.  So I did what I knew, I taught my students the way I was taught in college since that’s where they would be soon.  As I started asking questions, I realized we just weren’t connecting.  But it wasn’t that we weren’t connecting because of my biology hiatus.  We weren’t connecting because too many, not all, but many of my students were struggling academically.

Now in no way, shape, form or fashion am I putting my students down.  I can honestly say, I love each and everyone that I’ve come across.  And yes, some of us had quite a few run-ins but the love was always there.  My issue was I didn’t understand what went on from the time I graduated high school in 1996 to 2005.  I was so surprised and hurt at the number of my high school students that couldn’t read fluently;  I was surprised and hurt at the number of kids that didn’t want to learn; I was surprised and hurt that too many students didn’t see the importance of an education.  What happened?  Well, you can check out some of what I think happened in Graduation Rate Increases, Knowledge Decreases.

It was quite obvious that students were being socially promoted if they made it to the high school without being able to perform the basics.  What I learned from my family members that are teachers from different states, as well as, teachers I met during the years from across the country at workshops, is that this was the norm not just in my school district but nationwide for schools in low income areas.  So there we have it, mass miseducation is the feeder to mass incarceration.  No rocket science.  No major research needed to come to that conclusion.  It simply is what it is!  The public school system is one of Jim Crow’s accomplices.

My students would often say to me, “school is just like prison!” I would assure them that it was nothing like prison and even ask them have you been to a prison to know what prison’s like?  Well, it wasn’t until I was at school one day, leading my students in a single file line (let me add, I was a secondary teacher, not elementary), making them be quiet and stand on the wall, that I began to feel like the Correctional Officers that I watched in action when visiting the Mister.  I hate when visit is over, because I hate to see grown men lined up on a wall being told what to do.  I literally turn my back to that dehumanization.

I began to despise leading those lines but that’s the way several schools were and are run.  When students were in trouble, they were sent to a room (In School Suspension) to finish work they more than likely didn’t understand, but no form of rehabilitation was taking place.  Now that I think about it, administrators were the Wardens and the teachers were the Correctional Officers.  Sad but true.  When students were disciplined the teachers kept documentation in order to build a “case”.  Sound familiar?

Now not all schools are operated like this.  But again, teachers talk from district to district.  And many schools in low-income areas function in this manner.  If students are graduating not being able to read, what are their chances of success after graduating?  Well, they’re going to continue to live life, start families, and attempt to provide for their families.  But unfortunately, they will soon realize that minimum wage won’t be enough.  So what do they do?  They do what they can to survive and a lot of times that survival method is to do whatever they can by any means necessary.  If that means breaking the law, then they will take that chance.

So now, you have children without their mother or father who didn’t receive the best education raising children that are traveling through the same pipeline as their parents.  The cycle continues.  So why not put preventative measures in place?  Simple…America has prisons to fill!

 

 

Prison Visitation: #EveryMinuteMatters

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prison visitation

In the article, Our First Prison Visit, I mentioned the process visitors must go through when visiting a loved one during prison visitation. Yes, I do understand that it’s necessary for the prison system to screen visitors and have certain policies and procedures in place to keep prisoners and visitors safe and contraband out.  However, I have witnessed too many guards abusing their authority too many times, family members are subjected to overly rude guards that have no empathy for your situation. Like the Mr. stated in Rehabilitation, prisons aren’t hiring employees that genuinely care about the rehabilitation of prisoners. It seems as if all regard for family is dismissed when some, not all, but too many guards walk through the prison doors as if they don’t have a family of their own.

If you’re not given a hard time for the day, count your blessings because I guarantee someone is catching it.  I truly believe the visitation process is put in place to keep families separated.  I’ve heard so many family member of inmates say “I’m not coming back” or “I have to get my mind right just to come to visit”.  That’s just how much of a headache it can be from getting to the waiting area to the visitation room.  Yes, there is a dress code and rules to follow.  I get it, there has to be.  But a lot of times guards knit pick to prolong the process or are just nasty to you for no reason.  I’ve seen family members visits be denied after driving hours or flying, taking off work which all costs them money.   If something should happen where the unit is placed on lockdown and your loved one is in the clear and has nothing to do with what caused the lock down, there is a chance you will not be able to see him.  But guess what, should they go on lock down, they can’t call and let you know so that would just be a wasted trip.

Family members often don’t complain about what goes on out of fear of retaliation against their loved one by guards.  Or, out of fear that they will give you such a hard time at your next visitation.  The last visit I had almost ruined my Christmas.  We were so excited to be spending Christmas Eve with the Mr.  since we haven’t spent the holidays together since he’s been incarcerated.  Me, my dad, and the kids decided to make it a day trip.   We knew we would be on the road for about 9-10 hours that day.  Our plan was to be there when the doors opened at 8 and leave at 3.  Good plan, right?!!  Well, we didn’t leave on time, you know how it goes.  So, we got there during….COUNT TIME!!! NOOOO!!!!…This is the time where all inmates are counted nationally and the prison is locked down.  Sometime that can take up to two hours!  Visitation time that you and your loved one do not get to make up.  But, that was on us.

So now, we’ve lost about two hours of time plus we have to get processed, and there will be little food in the vending machines on Christmas Eve, with such a large group of visitors.  Of course, your walk to the back may be even longer depending on what side of the bed the guard woke up on.  And wouldn’t you know it! Our guard didn’t even wake up on the wrong side of the bed.  I think he must have slept on the damn flo!  Let the games begin!  My dad, my son and myself made it through with no trouble, but my daughter couldn’t go back because of her short sleeve shirt.  Well, normally we have extra clothes in the car but I’ve never been turned around for short sleeve shirts so I didn’t think that was a problem.   Oh yeah, I even have pictures we’ve taken in short sleeve shirts.

My dad obviously forgot how these guards can operate since he hadn’t been in three years, and was about to buck until I stepped in and said slowly–. “Daddy…you…can’t… do …that… right… now!  We have to get to the back first.”  Needless to say… me and my daughter made our infamous trip to WalMart and  bought a shirt.  The Mr. calls wondering where we are.  Well before I could get WalMart out of my mouth good, he already knew what time it was.  My daughter could hear him buckin through the phone.  She was cracking up!  All I know is I was explaining the situation to him and he shouts “I’m gone to the Lieutenent” …”Bam”…hello?…hello?  OK, I guess he’s gone to the Lt.  My daughter and I get back to the prison and have the guard now tell us she can’t go back because of her jeans.  Really sir?  So now I’m bout ready to buck like my daddy.  So we went back and forth about those jeans and he would not budge.  My daughter had a pair of pants in the car that I didn’t know she had, so she changed into those.  He still wasn’t going to budge, even though they were the same jeans we bought from Walmart last time we visited.  I eventually asked if there was someone I could see above him and he started to change his tune.  We finally got back there with about two hours remaining.

It’s difficult enough having a loved one incarcerated.  Is it necessary to complicate an already complicated situation?  According to Prison Legal News, “Studies have consistently found that prisoners who maintain close contact with their family members while incarcerated have better post-release outcomes and lower recidivism rates.”  Family is a significant part of rehabilitation.  Oh yeah, I forgot,  the goal of prison in America isn’t to rehabilitate, there’s no real interest in lowering the recidivism rate.

Do You Know What Today Is? It’s Our Anniversary! Our Prison Wedding

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Relationship

Do You Know What Today Is? It's Our Anniversary!! Our Prison Wedding!!

Picture of Danielle Williams

Danielle Williams

I can’t believe four years have already passed since me and the Mr. said I do!  This week four years ago two of my sister-friends went with me to take that leap.  I often dreamed of my dream wedding, like most ladies do.  You know the colors, who would be my bridesmaids? Where would it be?  Who would attend? All that good stuff!  Of course, I never imagined a prison wedding! But,  hey it’s not about the wedding it’s about true unconditional love, right?  And boy if this isn’t unconditional, I don’t know what is!  LOL!

Being that this was a “prison wedding” all the intricate details in my head had to be put on hold because… I had to follow the guidelines of the prison!  Only two people could accompany me.  My parents couldn’t attend because they stayed with our kids.  That’s why I was so grateful for such great friends.  We left in the early morning hours headed to South Carolina.  We had to be there before the close of the business day to get the marriage license.  We made it there within 30 minutes of closing.  Then we drove to our hotel close to the prison.  They both treated me by driving there and back.  Nothing like getting good sleep on a long ride.

When we got there, we went out to eat and my sister-friends surprised me with my wedding gifts! They did everything to make this non-traditional wedding as traditional as they possibly could. We had a good time talking, laughing, crying and reminiscing about how we planned our lives when we were younger and the routes our lives have led us to today.  Not that our lives are in bad places, just that we could have never predicted the obstacles that have come our way.

Even when making the decision to marry the Mr. it was a decision that took a lot of thought and prayer.  We had been together and even engaged prior to his arrest but I didn’t make the decision until I believed it was the right time.   It was one of the scariest decisions I’ve ever made. One because it was so against the norm, and it came with so much judgment.  Two, would I get tired, would I be lonely?  I can honestly say, I had more lonely days prior to his incarceration, simply because I’ve learned to depend on God in those lonely moments.  Do I miss him? Of course.  But I’m not lonely and I haven’t experienced that feeling in a while Thank God!

On that morning, I  remember being nervous.  I think I was more nervous because I didn’t know what to expect.  I wondered would we be the only couple getting married.  The day we got there was not a visitation day, but when we pulled up, the parking lot had more cars than I expected.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! There were about 10 more brides walking in the building.  Some even had on wedding dresses!  I was like wow… I’m not alone!  As we went through security, ok, I’m flashing back as I’m writing this, if you are a visual person,  just imagine brides lined up going through the metal detector. Can’t help but laugh!  But hey, that was our special day!

Of course the ol’ rude arse guard (young but acting as if she’s old and miserable)  at the front did everything she could to try to ruin the mood of us brides. Very seldom do you get the Chick-fil-a treatment when visiting your loved ones in prison.   She and one bride had a few words.  Yes, the guard was wrong. But if the bride wanted to to be Mrs. she had to swallow her pride and bow down…  Uggghhh … As for me, Ms. Rude told me I had to change clothes. The dress I had on was considered inappropriate (now, this is a dress I added to my work wardrobe after the wedding). So, I had to go back to the car and grab an another outfit to throw on really quick just to make it to my wedding so I too could become Mrs.

When we got to the visiting room, all of the grooms were seated on the front row side by side in their khakis waiting for their brides. The Mr. had his clean cut, starched khakis, and oils.  The prison chaplain  was in her robe ready to perform the ceremony.  One of the guards asked who wanted to go first?…  The Mr. and I volunteered to go first.   We entered this small room adjacent to the visiting room with Plexiglas windows.  All the other grooms and brides could see us.  My girls were right there as my maid and matron of honor as we exchanged our vows.  I think they cried more than us.  We were allowed a “torture kiss”,   about 20 minutes of visiting time, and photo time.  My girls played the role of photographers and placed us in wedding poses.

Although there were no flowers, coordinating colors, wedding cake, reception, aisle to walk down, or music we had the best 30 – 45 mins!  After we left,  the Mr. called and said we shouldn’t have gone first because they gave more time to those after us….oh well, you lose some you win some. That is my only regret from that day… Going first!

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Our First Prison Visit

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The first true prison visit was quite an experience.  We were so glad that my fiance had been designated after a year or two wait in the county jail.  We will get the chance to actually touch him, hug and kiss him.  He will finally get to hold our son for the first time.  He was hours  away in a rural area somewhere in the mountains.  No where you’d want to be caught in the dark! I remember it being a scary drive.  Thankfully, I was a rider this time since my parents went too.

We had no idea of what we were about to walk into, especially since this was our first time ever visiting a prison, not to mention a high security prison at that.   We finally got there after being lost.  We always manage to get lost because we’re literally just driving in the wilderness to get to a lot of these prisons.  We pull up and see all the barb wire fences, you know you see this stuff on TV,  but to experience it is still different.  I remember trying to be as normal as possible like this wasn’t my first trip,  but they can always tell the newbies!  That same nervous feeling I had at his sentencing was the same feeling I got walking into the prison.

The guards were walking around with stone faces and guns!  My children had never seen a gun. After signing in and making all the changes we were asked  (or rudely demanded) to make by the guards and clearing the metal detector, we walked to a small holding area to get our hand checked under a florescent  light to make sure it was stamped before we could proceed single file to the visitation room.  All kind of thoughts were running through my head…What have I done?! What has he done!…  I’ll be glad when he gets out of this mess, Damn! I can’t believe this!, wow!!!WOOWW!!! ….BAMMM!!!!!! Well the slamming of that HUGE HEAVY metal door made me jump right out of those thoughts!  Now, we’re locked in this little space until the guard leading us to the visitation building reaches a certain point.  If this is just a quick glimpse of what it’s like to be locked up…wow! No words!

We walked in a single file line to the visitation room where we were told where and how to sit until our family and/or friends came out.  All of the visitors constantly stared at the side door waiting for their family member to make his entrance.  When my fiance entered the door, my parents and myself were in total shock!  What happened to the man we knew?! We had to quickly fix our shocked faces.  He had gone from about 180 pounds to 250!! I was like whoa!!!… I thought people got into shape when they went to prison. LOL

He was so glad to finally hold our son and to reunite with our daughter.  Our son was now walking and two years old and our daughter was five.  They were so excited to see him!  He squatted down with open arms and they ran to him.  Now, my son ran to him following behind his sister since he really didn’t know what he looked like.  We always showed him pictures but looking at him at that moment the pictures were probably deceiving to a two year old. This was just the first visit of many to come…

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