education

7 More Frequently Asked Questions About Prison Life

“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp else what’s a heaven for?”

In my last post, I invited you, my readers, to leave your questions about prison and prison life in the comment box at the end of my blog post. The invitation stands. Following are seven more frequently asked questions about prison. Don’t forget to leave your question(s) at the end. Thanks.

7 More Frequently Asked Questions About Prison Life

1) Q: Are older prisoners treated any better than the younger ones?

A: In Pennsylvania, for the most part, only in the older prisons are the aging prisoners shown a little more respect and consideration. The main reason for this, I believe, is that when in the 20+ new prisons were built and filled beginning in the mid to late 80s to the present, most of the staff in these new prisons were new to the systems and inexperienced. They didn’t have veteran guards around to show them the way, so they established their own way, hence, the loss of compassion and a little lead-way for the old-timers. This new generation of guards doesn’t want to be viewed as being “soft” by their peers or by the prison population, and showing compassion is often taken as a sign of weakness, so they don’t tend to show it much. They want to always give the impression and send the message that they are in control. The guards in the old prisons came up differently, were trained differently, and I must say they were and are treated with much more respect than the newer generation of guards.

2) Q: Are prisoners with serious mental health problems housed in prisons alongside “normal” prisoners?

A: Yes. Most of them live on a special housing unit of their own, but they eat meals right alongside us, go to the same yard as we go to, and attend the same church services and other functions that we attend. There have always been prisoners with serious mental health issues living and functioning in the general population.

3) Q: Is the suicide rate high in prisons?

A: I don’t know what is considered “high”, but they do occur far too often. Most men I’ve know who have taken their lives in here were not on any mental health rosters either. They just got tired and lost all hope and the will to go on.

4) Q: During a prison riot, what do the prisoners who don’t want to participate in the riot do?

A: I’ve only witnessed two riots, or major disturbances, in all of my years in prison; in both circumstances, those men who didn’t want to be a part of the riot just stayed out of the way. Usually, if a man is not an informant or a child molester or a known jerk and doesn’t want to participate in the riot, he’s left alone. Incidentally, riots rarely, if ever, improve prison conditions. While it can be said that one of the worst riots in American history, the Attica riot in 1971 did improve some of the inhumane conditions that existed in that prison before the riot, one has to ask if the price those prisoners paid was worth it. In the end, twenty-nine prisoners and 10 guards were massacred by the state police, and many other prisoners were maimed for life.

5) Q: How do drugs and other contraband get inside the prisons?

A: There are multiple ways, and I must leave it at that. This is not a question I feel comfortable commenting on.

6) Q: Are there healthy friendships between some prisoners and guards?

A: Absolutely not. Nor should there be. Lots of prisoners try to form friendships with the guards because it brings them comfort and makes them feel safer. It’s a form of the Stockholm Syndrome; bonding with one’s captors. They hang out with the guards and exchange all sorts of information about what is going on inside the prison. I’ve never known a single one of these men who wasn’t considered a traitor by the prisoners who know better than to engage in this sort of behavior. Most guards who work the cell blocks or housing units on a regular basis seek out these “friendships” in an effort to use the man, and they do. No longer can you walk on a housing unit in a Pennsylvania prison and see a guard sitting alone at his post. Now you will always see one or two prisoners leaning into the guard at the desk, joking and laughing, and often whispering. This sort of behavior was unthinkable years ago. Again, guards are not, and can never be, our friends, and this is not just because they despise prisoners, in general; it goes deeper than that. They are not here to help us. Their job title of “correctional officer” is nothing more than a euphemism. They are simply guards, and their job is to maintain the orderly running of the area in which they are assigned to work, to keep themselves and their fellow guards safe, and that is the gist of it. The only use they have for a prisoner is to obtain information from him. The relationship between a prison guard and a prisoner should always be viewed as adversarial.

7) Q: In a 24 hour period, how many hours are prisoners locked up in their cells?

A: Prisoners who have full-time jobs are generally out of their cells for 9 to 10 hours a day. Prisoners who don’t have jobs are generally out of their cells 7 to 8 hours.

Patrick Middleton is a prisoner, author, and professional editor. Patrick is the author of Introduction to Experimental Psychology, 2nd edition (instructor’s manual and test battery and Research Methods, 3rd edition, (instructor’s manual and test battery); Healing Our Imprisoned Minds, a successful self-help book that is about to come out in a second edition; a memoir, Incorrigible; and the just released literary novel, Eureka Man. Patrick holds a Ph.D degree from the University of Pittsburgh. He was an adjunct faculty member at both the University of Pittsburgh (1983-1989) and Villanova University (2007-2010) for graduate and undergraduate students. He has been incarcerated in Pennsylvania since 1975.

If you have a question about prisons or prison life, you can post it in the comment box below and Patrick will answer it in a future post.

5 Frequently Asked Questions About Prison Life

“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp else what’s a heaven for?”

Over the past forty years, many professional and non-professional people have asked me a variety of questions about prison life and issues. Now in the aftermath of the “great escape” that recently occurred in New York’s Clinton Correctional Facility, many of these same questions and others have been popping up on CNN, HLN and various morning talk shows. Unfortunately, many of the individuals who have been called on to respond to the questions haven’t been a hundred percent accurate in their responses. In this blog post and several to follow, I’d like to address these and other frequently asked questions about prisons and prison life. I would also like to answer any questions you, my readers, may have. I invite you to leave your question(s) in the comment box at the end of this post. Thanks.

5 Frequently Asked Questions About Prison Life

1) Q: It was reported right after the recent prison escape at the Clinton Correctional Facility in New York that the two escapees had had a sexual relationship with a female employee in the prison. Does this sort of thing go on frequently?

A: It’s not rampant, but it does happen from time to time. Most male prisoners are heterosexuals and, thus, are naturally attracted to women; it’s only natural for a healthy, heterosexual man who is being deprived of having a “normal” heterosexual relationship to seek it from a willing woman, no mattter that there are rules against it. Men are not in prison for being choir boys, and having sex with a female employee is not a crime, it’s just against the rules. There’s a price to pay when you get caught, but for many men who have a lot of time to do, it’s worth the price. It should be noted too that the penalty you pay if you’re caught is far, far worse than the penalty a man pays when he is caught having sex with another man in prison.

2) Q: Is homosexuality condoned in prison?

A: Yes, as long as it’s consensual. A new policy came out last week defining prison rape, and in the definition of rape, there is a clause that reads, “…unless it is consensual…” In every prison in Pennsylvania, there are many known homosexuals living in a cell with “their man.” So, yes, it’s condoned, or at least tolerated. The penalty for getting caught is usually 30 days in the hole and then the individuals are released back into the population, “free” to double with another man again. In contrast, the standard penalty for a man who is caught having sex with a woman is 90 days in the hole, an automatic transfer, and an ‘H’ code, which means the man is now a high security risk, and is to be watched closely.

3) Q: What are the honor blocks like and who gets to live on them?

A: The honor blocks in Pennsylvania’s prisons provide a few amenities that the regular cell blocks don’t provide. This includes an ice machine and usually a weight lifting machine. In addition, prisoners on the honor blocks are allowed to stay out in the day room a little longer in the evenings to play cards or watch television, whereas the rest of the prison is locked down at 8:45 every evening. Honor block prisoners may also come out of their cells right after certain counts are made, whereas the prisoners in the other housing units must remain locked down for usually an hour longer. The other advantages honor block prisoners have are psychological in nature. Many guards and staff members consider honor block prisoners to be “model prisoners,” and they are more often than not treated with a little more respect and consideration. There are long-term prisoners (e.g., lifers) living on these blocks as well as short-term prisoners. The honor block is an incentive-based program, so when an honor block prisoner receives what they call a Class I misconduct and is found guilty of that misconduct, he is removed from the honor block. So rarely do these prisoners cause any major problems, as they don’t want to lose the few amenities they have there.

I should add that in Pennsylvania’s prisons, the administration has very strict guidelines on who can live on these honor blocks. The two prisoners who are recently escaped from the honor block inside New York’s Clinton Correctional Facility would have never been on an honor block in a Pennsylvania prison. In Pennsylvania, if a prisoner has any history of escaping, as the two New York escapees had, even if these escapes occurred as a juvenile, his custody level automatically includes an ‘H’ code, which means, “high security,” which means the prisoner’s every move is scrutinized.

4) Q: Do child molesters and other sex offenders really have a more difficult time surviving in prison than other prisoners?

A: They used to. In the old prisons, these offenders were raped and beaten regularly, and many were, and still are placed in what they call protective custody, or administrative segregation. In the ’85 riot at Western Penitentiary, the first thing the prisoners did when they got a hold of the guards’ keys was to unlock the administrative segregation’s protective custody cells. The sex offenders and child molesters who were in these cells were raped and beaten throughout the night.

Prison rapes occur much less frequently today because the new prisons they’ve built are designed so that the guards can see just about everything that goes on in the housing units (they’re no longer called cell blocks because the designs have changed.) Now there are cameras on every housing unit that constantly record and identify who is going into any given cell. However, child molesters still get roughed up, spit on and pointed out in crowds, and every once in a while they get brutalized physically.

5) Q: Why does the recidivism rate continue to be so high?

A: There are multiple reasons for this. In PA prisons, the most promising progress, in terms of lowering recidivism, were removed beginnings in the late 80s. There are no longer vocational training programs where a man can earn certification as a welder, a plumber, an electronics technician, or an auto mechanic. They also removed most in-house four-year college programs. The research that was conducted on the efficacy of these programs on lowering recidivism was very positive. Yet, they are gone. Another factor has to do with the lack of any effective counseling and cognitive development programs. A large number of men come to prison with faulty thinking skills and lots of anger; when they leave prison, their thinking hasn’t changed and they’re more angry than they were when they first came to prison. So there’s all that, and then there’s the societal components, which can be summed up in four words–a lack of opportunity. They return to the same dysfunctional environments they came from, they have no money, little to no job skills, and in most cases, even less hope. So what do you expect they’re going to do?

Patrick Middleton is a prisoner, author, and professional editor. Patrick is the author of Introduction to Experimental Psychology, 2nd edition (instructor’s manual and test battery and Research Methods, 3rd edition, (instructor’s manual and test battery); Healing Our Imprisoned Minds, a successful self-help book that is about to come out in a second edition; a memoir, Incorrigible; and the just released literary novel, Eureka Man. Patrick holds a Ph.D degree from the university of Pittsburg. He was an adjunct faculty member at both the University of Pittsburg (1983-1989) and Villanova University (2007-2010) for graduate and undergraduate students. He has been incarcerated in Pennsylvania since 1975.

If you have any question about prisons or prison life, you can post it in the comment box below and Patrick will answer it in a future post.

LESSONS IN LIFE: On Funky Days

LESSONS IN LIFE: On Funk Days

“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp else what’s a heaven for?”

We’ve all heard it before. A man greets another man: “How’re you doing this morning?” And the other man responds with, “Oh, you know, man. It’s the same old same old.” Or, Ain’t nothin’ changed, man. Same as yesterday. It’s just another funky day.”

Yesterday started out to be just another day. I went to breakfast, saw the same geese chattering and squawking as they flew over the prison, just like they’d done the day before and the day before that. Those same handsome cell dogs were in the yard for their morning walk, and the same humongous groundhog I watched yesterday morning was peeking out of its tunnel in the yard outside my window.

After breakfast I was called to the dispensary to have the callous on my foot shaved. I signed in and then sat on the bench to wait. Beside me sat a man who looked to be about my age (never mind). His left foot was wrapped heavily with gauze and red stuff was oozing from his toes. “How you doing, man?” I asked. The man was obviously in pain. He squinted, kept his eyes on his foot and said, “Not too good. They just cut off three of my toes. Damn diabetes.” I said, “That’s too bad. Diabetes runs in my family, too, and it scares the hell out of me. I’ve been lucky so far.” We spent the next ten minutes sharing names of family members who have diabetes.

When the nurse called my name, I said goodbye and good luck to the fellow and followed the nurse into the room. In the corner of the room, a prisoner sat in a wheelchair grasping his chest and grimacing. He was struggling with each breath, but he managed to cry out, “Nurse! Nurse, I’m having a heart attack! Please help me!” The nurse said, “The doctor is on his way. Just hang in there.” She told me to take a seat and remove my shoe and sock. I watched as she took the other prisoner’s blood pressure. A minute later the doctor walked nonchalantly into the room and asked me where the pain was. I said, “It doesn’t really hurt until I step on a rock, Doc.” The nurse shouted, “Not him! This one over here, doctor!”

Suddenly, I no longer want my callous treated. All I wanted was to get up and walk out of that room and find those geese, those four beautiful dogs and that waddling groundhog, and just look at them, man, and really see them! And the next fellow who told me how miserable his day was, I would remind him that he has toes to wiggle and a heart that pumps and eyes to see and if that’s not enough to be thankful for, then what is?

Patrick Middleton is a prisoner, author, and professional editor. Patrick is the author of Introduction to Experimental Psychology, 2nd edition (instructor’s manual and test battery and Research Methods, 3rd edition, (instructor’s manual and test battery); Healing Our Imprisoned Minds, a successful self-help book that is about to come out in a second edition; a memoir, Incorrigible; and the just released literary novel, Eureka Man. Patrick holds a Ph.D degree from the university of Pittsburg. He was an adjunct faculty member at both the University of Pittsburg (1983-1989) and Villanova University (2007-2010) for graduate and undergraduate students. He has been incarcerated in Pennsylvania since 1975.

LESSONS IN LIFE: Cultivating Friendships

“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp else what’s a heaven for?”

One annoying cliché repeated so often by prisoners who are still green behind the ears is, “A man doesn’t have any friends in prison. Only acquaintances.” I used to argue passionately with these fellows in an attempt to convert them: “How can you say that?” I asked. “I have several friends in here, good friends.” But to a man, it all came down to trust: “You’re crazy if you trust anybody in prison.” I never changed a single mind. I came to feel sorry for them, though. But I knew that if they stayed here long enough, they would learn the truth about another cliché–no man is an island.

When I was a teen, my grandfather would often remind me to choose my friends carefully. I never did though. I had one real friend and he chose me. I was a juvenile delinquent, whereas he was an upstanding boy. Throughout all my skullduggery, my friend was there for me–never embarrassed, never judging, never giving up on me. Fifty years later, he’s an engineer and I’m a seasoned convict. And we’re still friends. There’s a lesson here. It has to do with loyalty.

Prison has taught me some precious lessons about life. I’ve learned, for example, that there are two distinct worlds in which we human beings live–the internal and external. Each has its boundaries of freedom. My external world now consists of the walkways and hallways, the prison yard, the chapel and other buildings, and this little room of a cell. There is much more freedom, though, in my internal world. The walkways can lead to just about anywhere, and I am free to follow them. I am free to believe, too. I can believe in a God or none at all. I can choose to study algebra or geometry, trigonometry or calculus. I can choose to see the glass as half empty or half full. And if I choose, I can cultivate love and goodwill in the hearts and minds of others and my own.

And then there are lessons about friendship. How life is so much better when we have a few good friends to share it with. It takes time, years, to cultivate lasting friendships. It starts with trust. We take chances, we show our vulnerabilities, and it’s a beautiful thing when it’s reciprocated. Along the way, we learn to listen and encourage, we share our histories, our hills and valleys, we laugh and tease and sometimes cry together, and so much more.

Many of the friends I’ve gained over the years are fellow musicians. We worked hard together. We argued, we fussed, we created lots of goo music and many special memories. We grew as musicians and as human beings. We came to depend on each other for a smile or an ear when we needed it. There was a spiritual comfort in knowing that the had my back and I had theirs.

What do you do after you’ve shared years of your life with a friend who goes home and leave you behind, or dies suddenly? How do you deal with that “missing you” feeling, that homesick feeling you felt when you first came to prison?

We stay strong. We wait for time to lessen the pain. We work on new friendships. And from time to time, we rearrange the pictures of our friends in our photo albums; we relive the memories of them in our hearts and minds. And if that’s not enough, we talk to our old friends when we’re alone. We tell them how much we miss them.

And then we remember that in having known them, life itself has been good to us.

Patrick Middleton is a prisoner, author, and professional editor. Patrick is the author of Introduction to Experimental Psychology, 2nd edition (instructor’s manual and test battery and Research Methods, 3rd edition, (instructor’s manual and test battery); Healing Our Imprisoned Minds, a successful self-help book that is about to come out in a second edition; a memoir, Incorrigible; and the just released literary novel, Eureka Man. Patrick holds a Ph.D degree from the university of Pittsburg. He was an adjunct faculty member at both the University of Pittsburg (1983-1989) and Villanova University (2007-2010) for graduate and undergraduate students. He has been incarcerated in Pennsylvania since 1975.