Connecting with Convicts

This entry is primarily aimed toward those who may have friends, family, or loved ones who are incarcerated.  This is obviously a difficult situation for everyone involved.  There is undoubtedly conflict, reluctance, embarrassment, mistrust, and uncomfortable feelings all around, but...  Coming from someone on the inside of the prison walls and fences, I urge you to communicate!  Certainly this is not an easy thing for many, especially if the crime is particularly heinous or uncomfortable to address.  If that is the case, you need not address it.  A simple card or letter to say "I'm thinking of you, you're not forgotten " can mean so much to an inmate in confinement.

Oftentimes, there is the initial communication, which slowly fades away as time passes -causing us to feel lost, unloved, and forgotten.  Or people who we thought were close never correspond at all, leading us to wonder, to think the worst, or to sow the seeds of resentment toward humanity as a whole.  Many people seem to think that writing about mundane, everyday occurrences would be boring, or worse, cause sorrow and envy.  While there is some truth to this, by and large we would rather hear about it than not.  It's often a way to live vicariously through others.

We have all made mistakes in life, some bigger and messier than others, but we must not judge people by their mistakes alone.  The overwhelming majority of us are good hearted people who made bad choices, and often were in the wrong place at the wrong time.  That could happen to anyone.  Try to see us, and everyone really, with compassion and empathy.  We are all a part of this whole crazy universe, interconnected in ways we cannot possibly fathom.

One suggestion for communications would be to ask us questions.  While we here in prison might imagine that there is nothing of interest happening in our lives (and rightly so) it might be fascinating to those on the "outside" to hear about the mundane craziness of prison life.  The dreadful food, the inter-yard politics, the clandestine network of trade and barter, the hours of waiting, are all facets of life that most have little experience with.  Ask us questions and be specific!  We want to reach out, but we are afraid or are too embarrassed to make the first move.  We might have no way to discover where you are unless you tell us.

In most cases, you can find us easily on the Internet through your "local" department of corrections.  We will eventually get your letter... maybe... but don't give up trying.  It seems hard in this fast paced world of instant electronic communication to actually write and send a letter, but you just might find a forgotten joy in that process.  And receiving an actual, physical letter in your mailbox (instead of bills and junk mail) might be as pleasant for you as it is for us.

For those who are willing and able, consider a little gift.  Books, music, newspaper and magazine clippings are allowed in Arizona - but check on policies and procedures first.  Sending even 10 or 20 bucks would be an incredible joy for us.  Most inmates, even if they work, are paid slave wages - leaving little money for the little "goodies" that might make life pleasant, even for a few moments - again check policy first.

We may be out of sight, but we are still "right here." Family and friend connections might be one of the most powerful forces of therapy, rehabilitation and healing for us.  For many, perhaps the only source.  So if you're in the unpleasant situation of knowing someone who is incarcerated (and the number continues to grow), pick up a pen or type a letter on your computer and send it to the person!

The Hero's Journey

I must play many mental games to help me get through this incredibly difficult experience.

I have found that a Buddhist philosophy makes much sense and a fine a strategy for dealing with the pain and suffering that is this life.  It is not to deny the existence of such suffering, but to shed the ego's attachment to the pain and suffering and above all to the clinging desire for things to be different than they are.  This is an aspect of the illusion, or maya, that Buddhists speak of.

Another way to look at things is to realize that life is the Hero's Journey.  And that all of the crap that is thrown at us are obstacles to be overcome by the "hero".

The quest itself is the ultimate goal, not the "destination", or the "prize," or success, or failure.  It is how we carry ourselves on the voyage that really matters.  There is no golden fleece or Holy Grail and anything that may seem to be a reward is impermanent by nature.  It is the journey that strengthens us.  It is the trials, the tribulations, the joys, and the sorrows along the way that help us to discover what we are and who we are in our hearts and souls.  Essential to the path is the conviction to see it with brutal honesty and compassionate openness.

Perhaps it seems odd that a "hero" can be a sex offender (whose "offense" involves neither sex nor contact with any other person), but the hero is within each of us, and is often times easier to discover in times of despair and depravity.  Perhaps it is easier to grow and find strength in those rough patches.  When all is well and happy it's easier to be sidetracked from the real journey.

It seems that love is very much similar to, and in all likelihood a part of, this hero's quest.  As with the quest, there is no certainty of any reward at the end of the sojourn.  There is no golden ring, and though there may be a golden ring, it is as temporary and elusive as all else.

Does this mean that love is not worth the effort?  That journey, too, will shape us and assist us in learning and knowing.  Love can bring out the best in us, and the worst in us, sometimes simultaneously.  We can face its difficulties head on with strength, honesty, and conviction or we can run in fear from its tendrils.

Both the quest and love are fraught with false trails, illusions, tricks, temptations, and deceptions.  Seeing, knowing, and discovering the true path is essential, yet elusive.

The hero's quest (and the path of love) are solitary endeavors.  While it's pleasing to have others who have faith in the hero, who believe in the quest, and who lend assistance on the journey, the hero must ultimately confront the dragon alone.  So it is with "love", the hero cannot control or influence the love experienced or  given by another.  How rare and fortunate when two such paths should converge upon one another, which is when real magic can occur.  Yet love cannot require nor expect reciprocation, and can still exist without it.  It happens all the time.  There is still strength, richness and pain (lots of pain) in a solo journey.

The journey may well be one of insanity, like that of Don Quixote de la Mancha, but perhaps that is the most sincere form of the quest.  For who in their right mind would undertake such a foolish expedition with no thought of reward, riches, completion, or reciprocation.  Yet that is not only the reality, but the requirement.  The quest is oftentimes thrust upon us unwelcomed and uninvited and it's up to us to accept or decline.

The expedition is not easy, no one said it would be, and if they did they were lying.  If it's easy it's not the true hero's quest and/or is still incomplete.  Perhaps the journey's "completion" ends with nirvana, or enlightenment, or the interconnectedness of all things, or communion with the cosmos, or maybe the quest itself is already all of those things.

Thought Crime, Part 2

Part 2: Potential Prevention (or barriers thereof)

Several people, including Jess, have inquired as to why I did not seek some kind of treatment earlier, before my secrets were revealed, especially since I claimed to be working on these issues.  (I suspect that some are dubious of this claim, but again I must be satisfied with my own knowledge of this truth.)

It seems to me that my present situation should adequately address this inquiry.  To be truly honest with a counselor or therapist is a potential ticket to prison.  So it seems, as well, is an attempt to be truly honest with a fiancée.

Ironically the consequence of my actions continues to prevent me from getting professional help, as well as surrounding me with others as misguided, or more so, than myself.  There is a sex offender treatment program (SOTP) available in the prison system, but not on my yard.  I looked into a transfer, but at present the wait list for the program is several years.  There is also a concern that information shared in this program could be used against you later on.  This may seem like inmate paranoia or a rationalization, but it's written into DOC policy and has been conveyed by various attorneys in publications and to their clients here.  Yet still, there is a waiting list.

This course must also be taken (at your own expense) upon release from prison whether or not it is taken here, and still there is a waiting list.  So the idea that sex offense felons do not have a desire to heal is obviously not the case.

Jess also questioned why I withheld this tragic secret from her at the start of our relationship.  Again, her reaction to the situation speaks for itself.  If I had been honest at the start, would it have made a difference?  Would she still have reported me to the police?  And if not, why not?  If, as she claims, she truly believed me to be a risk to others, how would the time and manner of disclosure change the potential (or lack thereof) of inappropriate behavior?

Or perhaps the reality is that I was turned over to the police out of anger, or because I was not fully honest.  I certainly realize how dramatic and horrifying this discovery must have been.  I feel horrible for causing that pain, but communication, explanation, and cooperation might have been more beneficial to everyone.

I also wonder about the ethical implications of my lack of full disclosure about my habits.  When the consequences of this discovery are so disproportionate to the crime, and so devastating to me, my family and friends, is it morally wrong to hide the truth?  I really do think that honesty in a relationship is essential, and I violated that trust. Yet in a situation like this, it seems less clear.

In truth, my reasons were more selfish than that.  I never in my wildest dreams even considered that she might go to the police.  No, I hid to the extent of my destructive habit because I was embarrassed, and because I didn't want to risk losing her.  This was selfish, I know, but I was so incredibly in love.  That's hardly a good defense of my actions, but well, there it is.

The point here, which I just a rambled a way from, is that because of the assumptions of society, the attitudes of the justice system, and the lambasting by the media, there are really very few options available to someone seeking help in dealing with these issues, until perhaps it's too late.

This is a significant issue that requires a major shift in perspective and an openness to the uncomfortable realities of the human condition.

I know this topic and these ideas have been rehashed here in various ways ad nauseam, but this is where my mind goes again and again.  I am unable to work through this with any truly objective party, so I do so with thoughts and words to myself, and anyone who might happen to read this.

I know that I am not objective, but I sincerely hope that I am making sense.  As always, I encourage responses and comments.  I encourage you to call bullshit on ideas you disagree with.  I would love to hear opposing viewpoints and considerations I may have failed to address.  I try to view these situations and thoughts from other perspectives, and I might omit these observations from my ramblings, but would welcome those in this forum.

Thought Crime, Part 1

Part 1: prosecution and persecution

I am guilty of downloading child pornography.  I have never tried to deny that fact. I realize that this is reprehensible, and that the models of this industry undoubtedly have undergone horrible physical and mental trauma and abuse.  I contributed to this industry, and to this abuse.  I cannot take that back, but can move forward to understand and mend my karma, my mind, and my soul.

The consequences of this crime; 7 1/2 years in prison, lifetime probation, and lifelong registry as a sex offender, with restrictions on where I can live, where I can go, and what I can do, are predicated on the assumption that I am " incurable" and will or would undoubtedly act out on the fantasies that might have led to downloading such despicable material.  (Disclosure: these images were not of abuse, rape, or any sexual acts.)

Prosecuting and sentencing a person for potential and assumptive behavior is indeed a dangerous path.  One that I wish to explore in this essay.

I realize that many (perhaps most) people "buy into" the prevailing sentiment and media portrayal that a person with child porn (CP) is a sex crazed, evil, and perverted child molester.  That this is not necessarily the case seems to matter little.  Most people have little or no actual connection to these issues and would rather not think about them.  Few are willing to really question or understand the rationality of this assumption.  Even my fiancée --  who observed me interact with my own kids and students, and who claimed to want to marry me -  was unable or unwilling to explore these untrue assumptions.

I know the reality.  I know that might porn addiction led me to some dark places.  As is common with addiction, I needed more and more of my "drug" and explored more extreme content.  The child porn was one example of these extremes.  I am also fully cognizant of the line between imagination and reality.  This line was never in question and one that I would never cross.  I acknowledge that this is not the case for everyone, but those with a lack of awareness between fantasy and reality are, fortunately, the extreme minority.

This is by no means limited to sexual abuse issues.  This minority exists in all of the darker spheres of humanity.  There are serial killers, people who shoot up schools, who kill their own children, who stalk, kidnapped, and torture.  They are truly sick, and truly dangerous to society.  But to make assumptions of one's potential behavior is an extremely slippery slope.  We really don't know who is capable of these atrocities, so where do we draw that line?

I acknowledge that viewing CP is a likely risk factor toward sexual abuse.  The extent of this connection is really not known due to insufficient research.  An interesting article by Rachel Aviv called The Science of Sexual Abuse appeared in the January 14, 2013 issue of The New Yorker.

In this issue, she addresses the " Butner study redux" a 2009 study published in the Journal of Family Violence that is commonly cited by the courts to validate the extreme sentences and restrictions on CP felons.  In the study, 85% of the subjects convicted of child pornography crimes confessed to committing other sex crimes as well, an average of 13 per prisoner.  This study was cited on the Senate floor and five times in the Department of Justice 2010 National Strategy for Child Exploitation Prevention and Interdiction.

Further investigation of the validity of this study by the author led to some startling facts.  The program "required" the patients to "accept responsibility for a life of deviant behavior and thoughts." If they did not admit to such activities, they were accused of being in denial, and would be expelled from the program.  This meant returning to the general population of the prison, where sex offenders are routinely subjected to violence and abuse.

These study subjects later admitted that they just made things up to stay in the program and receive praise from the group.  They made " cheat sheets" in groups with fake names and details to "remember" in therapy.

Michael Setu, a psychiatry professor at the university of Toronto, reviewed the only six studies he could find on this subject and found that the Butner study was a " statistical outlier." The research is inconclusive.

"According to the largest study of released prisoners, conducted by the Bureau of Justice, the re-arrest rate for sex offenders is lower than that for perpetrators of any violent crime except murder." (Aviv) Yet this is the only class of felons with such draconian restrictions.

Now, if we are indeed going to pursue this line of thought, this "strategy of justice" to protect society and especially children from potential abuse, we should be thorough. There is ample research that people abused in their youth are statistically significantly more likely to be abusive themselves.  Should they be placed under restrictions?

I'm sure there is research that shows a correlation between drug use and alcohol abuse with a number of heinous crimes, including those of sexual abuse, so should drug users and alcoholics be on the sex offender registry, for life?

But let's not stop there.  To truly and accurately "predict" one's likelihood for sexual abuse, we must consider other factors as well: How many sexual partners, the age of losing one's virginity, sexual "games" played even prior to puberty would certainly contribute to potential sexual abuses.  We must consider the nature of one's sexual history.  Did they ever experiment with a pet?  Did they have sexual activity with a relative or a step-sibling, at any age?  Have they ever been with multiple partners?  Or used sex as a means of control or for getting what they wanted?

But even this is insufficient, we must also consider the sexual thoughts, fantasies, and imaginings going on in their minds.  Have they ever had "impure", "immoral," or "illegal" thoughts and fantasies?  And what about going to strip clubs?  Are these patrons not more likely to rape or abuse others?  And what of "legal" pornographic habits?  Is looking at legal models dressed up as young schoolgirls less likely to lead to acting out on one's fantasy?  Is this not a similar mental game?  And is looking at porn in general a predictor of potential rape?  If fantasy leads to reality, that's not a ludicrous assumption.

What about the attitudes and environment of one's childhood, particularly toward social expression?  Was it repressive and restrictive or was it permissive and open?  I'm sure both extremes lead to potential sexual inadequacy, and potential sexual abuse.

All of this and more shape our minds and the potential for inappropriate actions.  Ultimately, it's the ability to separate imagination from the reality of acting out.  Ultimately, it's one's conscience, one's knowledge of right and wrong.  How do we measure that?

In my case, the psychosexual history evaluation was an attempt to do just that.  Many of the questions  - well, most of the questions -- I've just addressed were posed to me.  I answered honestly and openly, even when not proud of the answers.  It revealed an extremely low risk (0.05%) of likelihood of inappropriate behavior.  Yet I was sentenced to 2 1/2 years above the five year minimum sentence for a single image of child pornography.  I got life probation on count number two.  I have lifelong registration, unsure of where I can live, what employment I'll be able to get, and even the nature of the relationship with my own children.

I want to be crystal clear that I do not think that collecting child porn is OK, or should be legal, but the consequences should be proportionate to the crime and should be solution, or treatment-based.  Probation, with mandatory counseling is most obvious to me.  I would advocate involvement in a program for understanding the pain and suffering of victims of the sex trade, particularly of child pornography.  A sliding scale restitution fee that contributes  directly to the treatment of both victims and offenders, based on income, seems appropriate and effective.  Imagine the millions of dollars this would save from taxes that go to state prison facilities for these offenders.

The court hurdles and restrictions placed on sex-offender create a lifelong struggle where true rehabilitation and treatment become secondary to pure survival.  Years in prison, exposed to others with questionable decision-making skills, and without any real treatment is certainly not going to help their cause.

I am suggesting that these crimes should not be prosecuted as if there had been actual physical abuse and more importantly without the assumption that there will be.  This way of thinking leads to the "thought crime" mentality I referred to above, and if it were to be expanded to other classes of criminal activity would result in a society that makes Big Brother seem like Ronald McDonald!

Yet at present, this assumption of CP viewing necessarily leading to abusive behavior exists; with the public, with the media, with the courts (and apparently with my ex fiancée).  We need more research, more treatment, less fear, and much more compassion to make things better.

Strange and fascinating travel

I have been extremely fortunate in my life to have traveled the world rather extensively.  I have spent time in some 20 countries, oftentimes for more than just a few weeks.  I love observing and experiencing  different cultures and customs, seeing different architecture and geographies, eating different foods, encountering different religions, and hearing and talking with people from a different background than my own.

My time traveling, living, and working in other countries remain some of the most satisfying in my life.  It's not always easy, but it's usually most interesting.  There is not a single country that I regret visiting, and few that I would not want to visit again.

When I finally "settled" into Tucson son, Arizona, with a wife, a home, and kids, I went through a bit of an identity crisis.  I would say that this contributed, at least in part, to my divorce.  Eventually,I realized that this new phase of life was in fact another part of my journey.  Parenting was a new frontier to experience.  It came with its own perspectives, it's own language, its own strange customs, and even its own foods.  To look through the eyes of my children, the whole world was magical, new, and wonderful again.

I held this notion as I grew along with my kids, and I always encouraged them to experience their lives and their world to the fullest.  Now, I'm in another stage of the journey.  I am spending the longest period of time "outside" the United States in a strange land called the Department of Corrections, or DOC.  It's truly unusual and not one of the favorite places I've been.  Not only would I not want to visit again, but I think I'd rather not have even visited once.  But here is where I am, so I will continue to try to learn from the strange culture that I find myself in.

The country is very small, with little in the way of flora and fauna, and chain link and razor wire protect its borders.  It's very hard to get a visa to leave this country.

There are a variety of languages spoken here.  Spanish and spanglish are very common and there are several dialects of English that are hard, but not impossible to understand, among these are "homey", "nigggah" and "Gangsta".  People in this country speak unusually loud and like to insert expletives into their conversation for no reason at all.

The national costume is orange.  They even wear orange hats and shorts as well as orange jackets.  A few of the resident wear uniforms, but they have travel visas and do not have to stay in DOC.  All of the residents are male.

The food is a rather bland and lacking in freshness and creativity.  It seems that no fruit or vegetables are grown or even imported into this land.  Many people crowd into a small amount of space and do not have refrigerators, or stoves, or other common appliances.  They have great skills in combining a limited number of resources into microwavable meals.

The society is very much a caste system, based on racial heritage, physical size and strength, age, and ability to procure resources. The "heads" of the villages do not get their position through elections, they seem to be appointed.  They are responsible for the behavior and harmony of their own Clan members.  They also try to maintain peace between clans by talking to other Clan and other village heads.  It is not the custom to resolve differences directly with members of different clans.  It is acceptable to resolve differences with members of your own Clan.  It is also the strange custom to belittle your Clan members and to suggest a wide variety of sexual acts that they should participate in with yourself. with them, or any number of other people, including the woman who gave birth to you.

The punishment for transgressions against clan rule is generally a punch in the head, administered by the clan heads.  It is reserved for more extreme situations like disrespect, inability to pay one's debts, and unacceptable behavior.

The country utilizes a barter economy.  There is trading, gambling, and games of chance where the entry fee is a soup, an envelope, a pouch of coffee or the like.  The Super Bowl pool was the equivalency of a dollar in merchandise, but not "fish, toiletries, or other lame goods."

A very strange custom is the "lighter box shuffle." There are no lighters or matches in this land, but there are electric boxes that can light your cigarette.  There is a strange ritual involved with the lighting of one's cigarette.  People will walk farther to get to a person for a "jumpstart" than they will to the box itself.  This is understandable if the box is not working, but it seems to be the preferred way of doing things.  Also, when one is standing at the box with a lit smoke, it seems insulting to use the box rather than to get a light from them.  And some do not want you to actually touch or take their smokes, and others expect you to do so.  Again, I'm still unsure of the proper protocol even after nearly two years in this country.

Other strange rituals involve removing your clothes on a regular basis for inspections.  In fact, the "homes" are routinely searched for contraband.  At times the residents must wait in the day room in their boxer shorts while this happens.  (There are no briefs in DOC.) Sometimes dogs are present for the searches, and they are none too friendly.

But the residents of DOC are an interesting lot, with interesting stories and very diverse backgrounds.  They have as much to teach me as the citizens of other countries I've visited. Many have elaborate body art.

The DOC residents (called felons, inmates, sex offenders, or prisoners) tend to be rather spiritual, and many actually carry around bibles and speak of Jesus and the word of god.  Many other religions are practiced and represented as well.  Saturday mornings bring the sound of drums and the smell of burning wood for the "Chief Clan" sweat lodge.

Friday nights, you can hear the sound of some pagan chant and smell burning sage.  Thursday evenings in "the great hall" there's a cacophony of chants, spells, hums, and other sounds as it's the "multi-faith" gathering. 

There is much waiting around and standing in lines in DOC and the standard of living is very low.  A fulltime, semi-skilled worker will make around $14.00 a week.

It's not a country I would choose to visit, but as I am here for a while I will continue to learn from the strange and unique culture that I find myself in.  Happy travels to all.

Inefficiency, indifference, and apathy

The title of this piece sums up the general policies and procedures of the overall system of the department of corrections.  I have written about some examples of this in previous posts, and I'd like to add some more.

I was recently notified that I was to receive a legal call at 9:00 AM in the counselor's office of my building.  So, of course, I had to take the day off work, since I work on another unit.  At about 8:15 AM I noticed that the counselor was not in.  This in itself is not uncommon, so I asked the officers on duty in my run how I was to receive this call.  They suggested I check with a counselor in another building to make arrangements.

So I made the rounds to the other three buildings on my side of the yard - no counselors were in.  I returned and explained to the COs on duty.  They contacted a CO3 on the other side of the yard who said he would handle it.

So I wandered up to the gate between yards.  I waited over 15 minutes and nobody came to unlock the gate.  I noticed a counselor head into one of the buildings on my side, so I went over to explain the situation.  He radioed the co3 (on the other side) and then told me to go back to the gate and he would let me through.  I waited another 10 minutes before a passing cop open the gate for me.

Of course there is another gate to get to his office.  I waited there another 15 minutes.  Another CO passed by and I explained that my call was already past due.  He again radioed the CO3, who came out of his office to unlock the gate.

But here's the real issue.  He then looks at me and asks why I waited until the last minute to come to his office!  I really wanted to punch and in the nose!  I kept my cool, thanks to my Buddhist practice.  As it turned out, I missed the call - but miraculously the attorney called back.

This practice of blaming the inmate for the ineffectiveness of staff is ever so common.

Another brilliant example of the department of confusion has to do with the bus ride to the SMU unit where I work.  Every day there are two buses that take employees to SMU.  And every day there is some problem with something.  Paperwork missing, copies not made, workers not on the list, extra people on the bus, not enough people on the bus, or something else.  It often takes up to an hour to go the 1 mile to the SMU unit.

And that's just once we get on the bus.  The bus itself is supposed to arrive around 7:00 AM, however that time actually ranges from 6:30 AM to 9:45 AM.  We are not notified when the bus will arrive, but are expected to be there when it does.  Every worker has a radio, but somehow they are unable (or unwilling) to convey such information.

The primary attitude is that we are a bunch of lying, cheating, immoral, monstrous, evil criminals, so why bother to worry about efficiency.  This is certainly not true of every employee, but it's the general principle guiding procedures.  I acknowledge that security is of the essence in an environment like this, but when something is done multiple times every day, the process should become routine.  The only thing routine here is inconsistency.

Similar inconsistencies abound in the process of returning to our "home" from work.  Some days we get stripped once, sometimes twice, once it was three times, and - rarely - not at all.  And the strip-outs themselves range from, "drop the oranges (pants) and shake out the whites (boxers)" to taking off everything, nuts squeezed, bending over, spreading our cheeks and coughing.

One never knows what the procedure will be, yet the officers will consistently say "you know the drill." What?  Which one?  It's different every day!  Then they will berate as for not knowing the "routine".  "How long have you been doing this?" Is a common question, spoken like we are idiots for not knowing what is expected.

My final example of the day is less of ineffectiveness than it is structured nonsense.  When we arrive on the yard, we are issued one pair of pants, three T shirts, three pairs of boxer shorts, two pairs of socks, and some "lame-o" deck shoes for clothing.  OK, so far so good.  Laundry is to be turned in once a week, and we get it back the next day.  Okay fine.

Then it is against policy to do any laundry in the run, it's not allowed.  Yet many of the inmates here have no money at all, so have no other clothing than what is issued.  Two pairs of socks to last a week, and what about one pair of pants?  How can it be cleaned?

In truth even the indigent inmates will eventually get extra clothing one way or another.  The socks that are sold through the store become holier than the Pope in a month (they are not of the best quality).  The reason I bring up socks is that I got "scolded" the other day for having socks hanging to dry in my area.  I have only three pairs that do not look like Swiss cheese.  Now, I do have a job, so I can buy socks from the store.  Three hours of work for one pair of socks.  And I did...  More than one month ago!  But I have yet to receive them and, as the "property office" is never open when I am not at work.  I could take a day off in which I would miss out on $3.20 pay.  And while it may not seem like much, it would be another 2 1/2 pairs of socks!

Again to be fair, most of the officers never say anything about laundry, unless a captain, sergeant, or warden is in the vicinity, but some seem to revel in bitching, writing tickets, and finding anything they can to cause us suffering.

I often wonder if all this is apathy, ignorance, or a calculated effort to keep us off balance in everything that we do.  I suppose it's probably all of the above: whatever the reason, it successfully keeps us frustrated and confused.

Why I Wonder Why

A friend in here was recently giving me some feedback on my essays.  He told me that as a reader, he would like to see me get past and the "why" that permeates my thoughts and musings.

I gave a sort of laugh and said that, as a human, I would really like to get past though "why" myself, but I'm obviously far from that point.

We talked about how it's really one of the big challenges in this place.  The inability to really understand, and the acceptance of the reality that I may never find answers to the questions that torture me perennially.  Also to acknowledge that it makes little difference to the situation at hand.

There are a myriad of reasons as to why this is such a challenge.  For one thing there is the inability to "move on" to something new.  Everything around is a perpetual reminder of the circumstances that led to this incarceration.  My brother, who is coming off of a tough divorce, talks about the things he can do to "clear his head".  He goes to drumming groups, goes for hikes, takes little vacations, and can see a therapist.  He is talking about maybe trying to "get back on the horse" and perhaps make efforts to date again.  These are not options for me.

Then there is the incredible timelessness of this place.  Because there are no significant or new events or experiences in my life, time has stood still.  It seems as if my time with Jess was just yesterday.  In my mind she's perennially pregnant with our son though he's approaching a year and a half.

The incredibly wonderful feelings I had of being with her and the laughs and joys we shared are still crystal clear in my mind, as is the devastating sense of heartbreak, loss, and betrayal.  "Time heals all wounds," but when nothing is happening, time stands still.  The intervening time does not really exist.

Perhaps due to the nature of my personality, I also have an overwhelming compulsion to make sense of things.  I want to see a reason, rationality, or logic in her actions.  I naively want to think that logic and reason are absolutes that we all share; that the notions of right and wrong, good and bad, cause and effect and even the degrees of those attributes are universal.  This is clearly not the case.

Though when it comes to the operation, organization, and policy of this department of corrections, I am fully aware that logic and reason have little influence.  Paradoxically, I can accept and even laugh at this in spite of the frustrations of living it.  That's not the case when it comes to Jess's  actions.  Nor of my own for that matter.  There's nothing remotely amusing about it.  I can accept the bias and sterility of the legal system and even that of the general public, but I struggle with this when it comes to the woman I love, who I planned on spending my life with.

I realize that love greatly interferes with a clarity of reason and logic.  I understand that love is precisely why it's so hard to deal with it all.  Perhaps love also has something to do with those choices and actions of Jess.  Perhaps, also, I'll never know.