This past week, there was a prison riot in South Carolina. Five people were killed and 17 wounded, all inmates. The argument was over cell phones. There was scant media coverage, and the story was quickly lost among more important events.
Jesup has a new warden who has been overhauling policies. Effective immediately, at all times during working hours 8:00 AM — 4 :00PM, camp inmates must now wear full green uniforms, including heavy work boots. Only those with medical dispensation are allowed to wear sneakers. The medical office has been besieged with requests but is refusing to issue sneaker permits. They say it is not authorized. Many inmates who do not own boots are in trouble.
Our prayer circle has been ejected from the large multi-purpose room that doubles as a law library and chapel. We must now meet outside. A fellow inmate complained that our 45–minutes of daily Bible study and fellowship was impeding his constitutionally-required daily access to the law library. This inmate has not used the law library in years, and he is a notorious complainer. In fact, there really is no law library, only a single computer terminal with free access to Lexis/Westlaw.
In the policies and procedures of federal prisons, inmates are often made to feel less than human. We are our registration numbers.
I found a florescent green baseball cap that would be suitable to wear while lawn mowing. The cap has a contractor’s name across the front; for that reason and because it is not the drab gray standard issue, the hat could be considered contraband and to wear it might put me at risk. I asked a CO who said it should be fine, but I know it is the warden who matters. The cap is stored unused in my locker.
We read a Bible verse about how even dogs may eat crumbs that fall from the Lord’s table. In the policies and procedures of federal prisons, inmates are often made to feel less than human. We are our registration numbers. This is the nature of large bureaucracies whose purpose is to control human behavior.
I have decided to take as few of my meals as possible inside the dingy chow hall, crowded with 150 other inmates. I eat breakfast there at 6:00 AM, then I try to limit myself to one other meal per day. Today for lunch, instead of Wednesday hamburgers with onion and pickle, I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich alone in my cell. I am grateful for these healthy crumbs from the Lord’s table, and I feel liberated to protest the chow hall in my own small act of defiance.
This is the daily routine of prison life. I look forward to getting out of it.
Originally written at Jesup Federal Prison Camp on April 18, 2018
