Waiting for Our Prison Break

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.

Prison Visitation: #EveryMinuteMatters

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.

Are Inmates Being Rehabilitated While Incarcerated?

I was sentenced to 22 ½ years in federal prison to be rehabilitated, confined behind these prison walls, in order to be restored to good condition/health since I was unfit to be free in society (due to a drug crime conviction).  I absolutely agree that in our society we need prisons for  people who are deemed unfit to live among us.  After serving 12½ years in federal prison on a 22½ year sentence, just being located to my 7th federal prison, I can honestly say that prison is not for rehabilitation but only to oppress a group of people through incarceration.

To rehabilitate anyone you have to have individuals in positions that want to see you rehabilitated. For example, drug addicts going to treatment centers for help with their drug addiction are surrounded by employees that want to see the person get better.  In prison, majority of the staff can care less about you, they are here to collect a pay check and do whatever they can to create job security.  Staff members have their own hidden agendas.  Many get pleasure from being in an authoritative position.  So, to hell with prison policies.

Inmates, including myself, are abused mentally and emotionally daily for no reason.  Tactics vary from staff member to staff member, physical abuse by staff members to inmates happen daily.  Of course staff members get away with it because the one’s that oversee them are part of the same system.

There are administrative remedies that inmates can file but they go  nowhere and the only way anything is really done is if you have someone on the outside that pursues the issue.  Majority of staff members are protected by their union.

Violence in prison is always shown on TV but what’s never told is that the staff members are often the ones who create the problems that lead to the violence.  In federal prison it could be an array of things that create problems.  Why have 150 to 200 inmates watching 6 TVs, use two microwaves on hot water dispensers, and have only 3 washers and dryers in institutions?  Why not solve the problems by simply adding more or allowing inmates to purchase their own TV’s from commissary? Their excuse would then be that the power bill will be too high.  Not true, we have our own light switches.

Another excuse would be we wouldn’t take any prison programs. Prisons are funded millions of dollars to offer programs and inmates are needed to participate or the prison would lose that money.  Where there are excuses there is always the truth.  The truth is that problems in prison have to happen in order to fluctuate the prison population.  Prisons have to be full, not just on the compound but also in the SHU (Special Housing Units for inmates separated from the general population).  If not, the prison doesn’t operate properly.

Everyday I wake up and am subjected to verbal and mental abuse. No matter how far away from staff I try to stay, it’s never far enough.  Abiding by the rules and regulations of the institutions still is never enough.  Daily staff members violate me by trying to find ways to get under my skin and get a reaction out of me at all cost but my thoughts are my family and doing everything I can to get back to them.

This is a game involving real people.  People paying a debt to society, people sentenced to be rehabilitated.  For those in the free world, this is foreign territory.  Trust me, it once was to me too until I made a mistake.  Now it’s my reality. Just pay attention to the way we are being treated behind these walls, don’t just hire people in these positions unless they care about seeing someone better their life.

The Justice System Is Not So Just

There are several federal inmates currently serving major time, some even life sentences, due to the not so just justice system.  One of those who knows too well but too late is the Mr., my husband.  I must admit I was hesitant about sharing his story, and I’ve held on to it for  a few weeks.  But he insisted that his story is not just his but the story of many others and it needs to be told.

The two major takeaways I would like you to leave with is that there is a need for justice reform.  I commend President Obama for responding to members of FAMM and other groups that have fought for, and continue to fight for the rights of those who have excessive sentences.  Am I condoning my husband’s actions and the actions of other inmates? No.  But just like they have to pay for their crime, at what point does the justice system pay for its crime or at least right it’s wrongs? Most importantly, I would also like you to leave with the vivid picture the Mr. painted as his fate laid in the hands of a judge and share his story with others in hopes of deterring others from actions that will possibly send them to prison…

From Behind the Wall with The Mr.

From the first day I began fighting my charges, I felt like this was an unfair process.  I was fighting federal charges of being an ex-felon in possession of a fire-arm, I was only supposed to get sentenced to 48 months. So how in the hell was I now fighting federal drug conspiracy charges based on a superseded indictment and I was never caught with any drugs when arrested on this charge?

Day and night I battled with this thought  in a jail cell.  These conspiracy charges were all conjured up.  Now why would someone want to make up charges on someone? Simple;  to get a reduced sentence that’s offered by the federal agents and the US Attorney.  This is how the federal system works–always in its favor.

Think about the cases of blacks being killed by cops but witnesses aren’t considered credible because they have criminal records. So how is it that inmates (with criminal records) are credible witnesses when it serves the purpose of helping the federal agents get a conviction?  Is this not a double standard?  They say the feds have a 99% conviction rate .  The truth is, everyone is forced to take a plea agreement and so was I.

If you decide to take your case to trial, (not if– but when you are found guilty) you will receive the maximum amount of time that a judge can sentence you to.  It’s just their textbook law that they stand on and it’s a horrific tactic.  The emotional roller coaster I was riding was so surreal. I was emotionally unstable– taking anti-depressant medication along with psych medications to escape from my reality.  I went from 180 pounds to 265 pounds in a year.

When my sentencing day came, I was shackled and taken to the federal courthouse.  I was so nervous; I nor my family had ever experienced such a situation. My stomach was balled up in a knot, my feet felt numb, it was as if my body was ready to shut down.

When I entered the courtroom, I saw all my family and friends, I couldn’t even smile at them, I just waved.  As I stood before the judge being sentenced, everything was in frozen time and even though he was so close, it felt like he was a football field away.  When I heard him sentence me to 270 months, I was stuck, my mind was trying to calculate that in years.  When I realized I had just been sentenced to 22.5 years, I almost fainted!  I immediately told my attorney to pull my plea agreement, this was 10 years more than my original agreement.

Tears immediately ran down my face.  I had been fighting my case a little over a year and I just turned 27 years old.  I couldn’t even look at my family and friends when I exited the courtroom.  My thoughts were so consumed with where my life had gone and would it ever have any normality again?  Would I even have a family when released?  Hell, when would that even be?

Now at the age of 39, the person has changed and the experiences have been real. The justice system is so flawed, the picture society is painting of the justice system is just as bad as this years presidential campaign.  They always push the public opinion based on violent acts in society to justify putting us all in the same boat when most of the federal system is non-violent drug offenders.  There is more to come…..

My Princess … A Daddy’s Love from Behind the Wall

Let me tell you it’s such a surreal feeling every time I see My Little Princess, hell after serving 11 1/2 years of a 22 1/2 year sentence in federal prison you would understand exactly what I mean. Understand that when I was arrested she was 2 month’s shy of turning 3 years old but you would never know that if you were an outsider seeing us together. Out of all my kids, she and I are the closest, it’s not that I love her more than any of my other children, it’s that for the short time I was actually physically in her life, she was the only child I had the opportunity to spend my days and nights with, changed pampers and fixed bottles for. I used to get lost for hours with my Princess, I prided myself in being a good dad, taking her to her hair appointment’s, as well as our weekly trips to the mall’s to keep daddy’s little girl looking picture perfect. I miss those days, they cloud my mind every single day. Now because of my poor decisions and allowing my euphoric feelings to cloud my better judgment I am serving prison time. You never understand how much all the little moments mean until they are taken away or you are no longer able to participate in them. I have missed everything you can imagine a 3 year old doing until now, My Princess being the age of 14. Instead I wake every single morning now in a Low Security Prison surrounding by 1900 other men, much so in similar situation but very different realities!
My bad decisions have really affected my family and in doing so I have subjected them all to this life, it pains me deeply but I will say I don’t have an ordinary family, in fact more good has come out of this whole situation than anyone could imagine or try. Throughout all these years I have been able to witness my Princess blossom from a little girl skipping around the visiting room, to a young lady, catering to her daddy and having grown folk conversations. I tell my wife all the time what a wonderful job she is doing with her and my son, now my son that’s another story to come, he’s his unique self! Things could change for me real soon, still only time will tell, My Princess is now in High School, we talk about everything and I mean everything. When she talks about boys, I just tell her, sweetie, you have been raised right and taught to be responsible, so we trust you to make the best decisions and we are always in your corner. All I can do from behind these prison walls is be the best dad I am capable of being to deter any of my kids from making poor decisions that can affect their lives in the long run. We all agree that no matter what our situation or circumstances are, we all want what’s best for our children, I know I do. My happiest days are the days I am with my family, it’s the only time in here you can feel normal, those are the people whom love you completely, had my mind been in a rational place instead of in the streets I would have learned that over a decade ago. We live, we learn but we have to be willing to. My daughter has taught me so much, she is the only person that can just say daddy and I listen, whenever I do get home things will be different but don’t worry Princess Daddy got this….