Down and dirty on American Idol
By Mansfield B. Frazier
A recent editorial in the Orlando Sentinel entitled “Why be so mean?” lambasted “American Idol” judges Simon Cowell and Randy Jackson for exhibiting an even meaner streak this season as they tear into untalented contestants with less mercy, pity, or leniency than they exhibited in previous years. The editorial stated, “... the ‘criticism’ Idol judges .... are doling out to contestants this season is particularly cruel and mean-spirited. They have included fat jokes and other cruel remarks about contestants’ appearances.” Indeed, most viewers would undoubtedly agree that only judge Paula Abdul has even a miniscule drop of the milk of human kindness in her cup for the oftentimes excruciatingly bad contestants. However, in defense of the dissing duo, while the editorial was accurate in regards to the unprecedented level of punishment being doled out, their vicious comments are only reflective of the cultural depths to which the tastes of much of the American TV viewing audience has plunged.
While the editorial suggests the hosts harbor inbred sadistic streaks, I submit their cruelty is, by and large, more of an act; they are merely giving viewers larger and larger doses of what they tune in for. They are acting as our surrogates, dishing out the vile comments we wish we could make as these poor gluttons for punishment twist in the wind in front of a national audience ... much to our just-as-twisted delight. The Germans even have a word for it: Schadenfreude (shäd'n froi'də) ... “taking satisfaction or pleasure at someone else’s misfortune.” Now there is a TV show based — at least in part — on this flaw of human character. But this begs the question: Do these obviously delusional masochists really suffer, or do they actually enjoy being used as human punching bags, getting beat up on the program that has benchmarked a new age of dissing; do they take some kind of carnal pride in being abused, ridiculed and insulted in the most public forum on the planet? And, if they are sick ... then how well are we for watching?
The two gentlemen in question could very well be just that off camera — gentlemen — I don’t know them personally, nor does the Sentinel editorial writer or the millions of viewers who tune in twice — or is it three times? — a week to watch some folks make fools of themselves in return for a fleeting 15 seconds of fame. By giving the viewing public what it craves the program is on track to become — if indeed it hasn’t already achieved the status —the all-time top rated show in TV history, and, obviously, the more brutal the comments the higher the ratings. Not to mention the longer the lines of no-talents that will do virtually anything for a chance to appear on national television.
As for the horde of regular viewers (I take smug delight in stating at I am not among them, I only see the images fleetingly while passing through the great room as my wife watches and chats via telephone with her mother), while they ostensibly claim to tune in to see what new talent is being discovered in the hinterlands (and that certainly is a major component and supposedly the premise of the program) I have a sneaking suspicion that if the clowns were deleted from the show ... or if the judges quit beating up on them, ratings would fall like a stone; and, the producers of “Idol” know this full well.
No, the culprits are not Cowell and Jackson and their mean-spirited remarks, the real culprits are that deep, dark side of the human psyche (that thankfully remains buried within us most of the time), coupled with the burgeoning culture of vacuous celebrity worship that has developed around the globe due to the corrupting influence of the most powerful medium mankind has ever known ...television. In a world where we have no-talent celebrities that are famous for nothing more noteworthy than “being a celebrity,” and when, as a recent poll indicated, young people rank “being famous” far above anything and everything else, what’s wrong with suffering a few supercilious barbs from two of the most famous dudes currently on TV? The logic, I surmise, goes: “If Paris Hilton and Anna Nicole Smith can be famous just because they are filthy rich, why can’t I — because I have talent — be famous too?”
Mark my words: It won’t be very long before the real “winner” on American Idol will not only be the contestant who garners the most votes, but will also be — a sort of co-winner if you will — the person who has the most stinging, debasing, and derogatory comments heaped upon their head by the judges. In our increasingly through-the-looking-glass world ... how much one can bear to be dissed on national television is destined to become the new measure of “fame.”
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Institutionalization — its impact on reentry, recidivism and public safety
By Mansfield Frazier
While it’s accepted wisdom that a certain undetermined percentage of prisoners (after an equally undetermined period of time) become institutionalized, we need to think through this truism, determine what the term actually means in real-life terms, follow it to some logical conclusions, and then attempt to determine what impact those conclusions have on recidivism rates and other aspects of reentry and public safety. No record can be found of any empirical study being carried out on the subject of institutionalization; no accurate information exists to help us determine what percentage of prisoners actually become institutionalized, to what extent they become institutionalized, how long the process of institutionalization takes, or if it is reversible. Indeed, there are a myriad of other questions surrounding this well-known, but little-examined, and less-documented phenomenon that are in need of answers if we wish to lessen its impact on prisoners, and ultimately society. And, make no mistake, the impact and costs created by institutionalization, whether we are cognizant of those costs or not, are extremely high in terms of failed reentry programs and exceptionally high recidivism rates.
From one encyclopedia comes this entry: ”Institutionalization is sometimes used as a term to describe both the treatment of, and damage caused to, vulnerable human beings by the oppressive or corrupt application of inflexible systems of social, medical, or legal controls by publicly owned or not-for-profit organizations originally created for beneficial purposes and intents; or to describe the process of becoming accustomed to life in an institution so that it is difficult to resume normal life after leaving.” That definition can perhaps be expanded and further defined to also include the change in mindset of an individual after a period of incarceration which causes the institutional setting to become the safe and comfortable norm, and free society the frightening aberration. If we accept this theory as possessing validity, then what does it mean in terms of recidivism and reentry? Are we releasing men and women back into society who would rather remain in an institution, and, if so, what impact is that having on public safety, recidivism and corrections budgets? Can we design successful reentry programs for people who are not ready for freedom and (consciously or subconsciously) wish to return to prison? How large is this cohort? Indeed, before those questions can even begin to be answered we have to ask: Can an empirical study of this phenomenon, given the nature of the subject matter, ever be successfully carried out? Can honest and forthright answers be elicited from participants? The ramifications of such knowledge could have broad and far-reaching implications for criminal justice policy and practice in America.
The problems associated with conducting such a study arises from the fact virtually no prisoner (or formerly incarcerated person) will freely admit to being institutionalized; it’s simply too shameful — too painful, just not done. In fact, many prisoners may not even be aware of the fact they have become institutionalized. Everyone in an institution is supposed to want to go “home.” But what if the institution has (knowingly or unknowingly) become “home”? What if there is no family, support system or job out there for an incarcerated person to return “home” to? Marty F., now a highly successful photographer in Las Vegas, once said, “For me, going to prison wasn’t nearly as frightening as coming home.”
There is a strong body of anecdotal evidence (consisting of prison lore, institutional legend and even film culture) to support the theory of institutionalization. In prison stories abound similar to the one about the guy who, upon nearing the end of his sentence, writes the judge who sentenced him a letter stating he will soon be released from custody and will try to kill him at that time. This ploy, if indeed it has ever been used, would garner the prisoner an additional X number of years in custody. Another persistent story is about the person that, upon their release, finds life is simply too complicated for them on the outside, so they throw a brick through the window of a post office and simply stands there and wait for the authorities; this ploy is good for a minimum of five years behind bars.
The unfortunate (and potentially dangerous) situation that regularly occurs is when individuals are released from custody, and then act out in ways that are harmful to society (i.e., committing new crimes) in order to achieve their goal of returning “home.” The way the system is currently set up, a person cannot simply present themselves at the gate of an institution and say “I want back in,” they have to go and commit another crime first. While commonsense and visceral instinct tells us this is occurring in society, we simply have no way of tracking such incidents or quantifying them (nor the damage being done to society), but the larger question is … does this current setup make any sense? Do we want to continue to force individuals to commit crimes in order to get their proverbial “three hots and a cot”? Can we devise a better method for addressing the needs of these individuals?
There was one true story recently of a 60-year-old individual who, finding himself in a three-year lurch between his last gainful employment and the time his social security was schedules to kick in, opted to commit a crime and go to prison for the three years. While this might seem preposterous to the average citizen, the simply fact is, as the saying goes, “One man’s prison is another man’s palace.” While a stint in prison rates very high on the trauma scale (right up there behind the death of a loved one) the experience — or the potential of incarceration — is simply not the same, in terms of trauma, for everyone.
One of the main, persistent mistakes that is being made in terms of the criminal justice system is that lawmakers are viewing the entire process though the prism of their own personal experiences and fears ... their own fear of being incarcerated and what they would lose and leave behind were that to occur. The simple fact is, many — if not most — of the people who are incarcerated in America today don’t have near as much to lose as those making the rules, and therefore are not as intimidated by the rules as those making them.
For effective solutions to America’s burgeoning (and increasingly costly) prison conundrum to be formulated we simply must design punishments that are effective in protecting society by deterring criminal activity and rehabilitating those who do run afoul of the law — while at the same instance acknowledging the socio-economic conditions that have brought us to this virtually untenable place. We have to face the fact that some individuals are not prepared to compete in today’s marketplace, and others never will be able to do so absent some type of close supervision over their lives. And simply churning out more laws and putting forth more punishments that only have the effect of frightening the pants off of average citizens who willingly abides by society’s rules anyway is not going to change that reality one whit. “Tough on crime” hasn’t worked, so maybe it’s time for us to become “smart on crime” instead. And we can begin by designing effective programs to impact on the lives of those who society has the most control over: Prisoners. And to do that we have to understand prisoners needs, wants, desires and — most of all — their fears.
“Separation anxiety” is a well-known fear that causes many prisoners sleepless nights. Both prisoners and staff alike have seen individuals who, upon coming to the realization that they will soon be forced to leave the “home” they have known for X number of years, begin acting out in inappropriate and sometimes violent ways. The prospect of once again being responsible for their own lives (indeed, if they ever were) is simply too overwhelming for them to deal with in an acceptable manner. And prison simply does not allow room — space nor place — for individuals to say “I’m scared.” But the truth is, some prisoners are literally scared to death about the prospect of walking out of those prison gates — leaving “home.”
Over 15 years ago I, along with two other prisoners, was being transported to a federal prison in the back seat of a vehicle being driven by two US marshals who took turns driving. The 25-year-old prisoner sitting in the middle was being returned to prison on a parole violation; he’d only been out for two months he’d informed us. The prison we were gong to sits down in a hollow, and when the vehicle rounded a turn and it came into view, the young man began bouncing up and down in the seat like a kid who was seeing Disneyland for the first time. I remember thinking, “Oh my God, he can’t wait to get back!”
Another true story: A federal parole officer once told me that when he was an officer for juveniles in the state system, the procedure was, when a youngster violated parole he would put them in his personal vehicle and drive them downstate to the facility where they would be housed. When he bought a new Cadillac the number of youths on his caseload that violated parole suddenly tripled … the young people simply wanted to ride in his new car. The fact of where they were riding to didn’t make one bit of difference. Believe me — I’m not making this up folks.
Not for nothing is the film, “The Shawshank Redemption” one of the all-time favorite movies in prisons all over the country. It probably could be played over and over again on movie night in any institution. One scene, where an elderly, beloved prisoner who has recently been released sits in his room contemplating his bleak, lonely future, always strikes a chord in the hearts of even the most hardened criminals, for they know what he is about to do next: Hang himself.
One final real-life example: During my last incarceration an elderly (but still robust), well-liked prisoner who was known by the sobriquet “Bankrobber” was set to be released and everyone at the institution — staff and prisoners alike — were concerned in regards to how he would fair in the free world. He had robbed his first bank at age 18, and had spent virtually his entire 70-plus years behind bars for various robberies, and had no family left to return home to. A few weeks after his release we got word that he had somehow gotten hold of a gun, robbed a bank, and was killed in a shootout with police. We knew this was a case of “suicide by cop.” The real tragic part was that one of the officers, a man with three children and his entire life in front of him, was also killed in the shootout. How many times will this (or something similar) occur over and over again in the future? What can we do about it? As news of Bankrobber’s death spread throughout the institution one deputy warden told us that arrangements had been made for him to go into a nursing home upon his release, but that he had absolutely hated it upon his arrival. The deputy warden then said, “If I was old and had no family, I damn sure would rather be in prison than a in a nursing home.” He knew whereof he spoke, for this reason: Abuse of the elderly is virtually unheard of in prison. Indeed, older prisoners are venerated; respected members of the prison community. And this brings me to the crux of the matter: The sense of community.
Prisons, by the very nature of the barbed-wire that isolates them from society at-large, are the most insular communities on the face of the planet — governed by rules that are written down in volume upon volume of operational manuals, as well as by those rules rigidly enforced by the “residents” of this artificially created “community.”
Now, take a young person who, by their very nature and being, craves order in their life and environment. But said young person comes from a dysfunctional family where food money is often drank or smoked up before the end of each month, leaving cupboards bare; perhaps they were raised in an inner-city project where ducking bullies or bullets sometimes is the order of the day on the way to school. After dropping out of high school they drift aimlessly and eventually begin a life of crime and, of course, get busted. Sounds all too familiar, right?
Now fast forward to the point where the young person is about to be released from the only orderly environment they have ever known: Prison. A place where they have friends, status, and, most importantly, knowledge of what tomorrow will bring … in other words, a safe community. Very, very few prisons in the country are the gladiator schools popularized in TV shows like “Oz.” Most prisons are relatively safe places, once a young person understands the rules. Now, after the young person is released they either go right back to the living situation that failed them in the first place, or, if they can, they try something different. However, for that “something different” to be successful certain needs have to be met and a certain comfort level has to be recreated, and that is where most reentry efforts come up short: They fail to re-create the much-needed sense of community that the person has recently left.
Our fictional young person could, upon their release from prison, begin walking from the center of town and continue walking for miles and miles to the city limits and probably not one person would recognize their humanity, not will person will acknowledge they are alive by speaking to them. Now, contrast that with the institution where a prisoner can barely walk 50 feet without someone — usually another prisoner — asking them how they are doing. Honestly, while I was incarcerated I once got a stubborn rash on the palm of my hand near the wrist; when I went to sick call to get something for it the physician’s assistant that treated me said, “Just quit shaking hands all day long with everyone and it won’t come back.” He was right. To underestimate how powerful the “comradeship” aspect of prison culture is, is to underestimate the basic need for human contact itself. And, speaking of power, a young man who is powerless on the street becomes powerful in prison due to the presence of gangs. And we want this young person, with this newfound power and friendships, to give all of this up to flip hamburgers for minimum wage? The question is, why are we so surprised when reentry programs don’t work any better than they do?
It becomes obvious that the problem we are faced with — at least for those individuals returning home with little or no family or support network — is to recreate the sense of community they recently left. Cursory examinations of the programs around the country that have had continued success in reentry are all based on the model of creating a community of formerly incarcerated persons. The Delancey Street experiment in San Francisco is entering its 30th year; Triangle Residential Options for Substance Abusers (TROSA) is a nonprofit agency in Durham, NC that now owns businesses (among them the largest moving company in the tri-city area) and provides employment for over 300 individuals — virtually all ex-offenders. Their program has been around, and making a difference in lives, since 1994. And, while some might only need these communities for a short period of time (six months to two years) to get back on their feet others make these communities their permanent, lifelong home.
All other solutions being put forth to assist this particular percentage of the reentering population merely nibbles around the edges of the problem. The proof of their lack of utility is their own persistent failures — which are reflected in high recidivism rates. What is needed by this certain percentage of individuals exiting prison is a total, 24-hours-a-day, controlled environment; the kind in which they are used to, and have been living in successfully prior to their release. More specifically, what is needed are housing situations within created communities with strict, no-nonsense rules, clearly defined regulations and tight supervision, run largely by formerly incarcerated persons, for formerly incarcerated persons. Jobs are assigned, training is provided and no bullshit is tolerated. Sorry if the use of the word “bullshit” offends you gentle reader, but you have to talk in the language that the residents of this community understand if you want to get through to them. Therefore, absolutely critical to the success of these types of ventures/communities is that formerly incarcerated persons actually have a strong (if not the strongest) role in their overall, day-to-day operation. It’s called peer mentoring.
And, while people who have not been to prison might mean well, and have substantial classroom training, the people who can most talk the talk (and have similar life experiences, and therefore have credibility) are the ones who can really make the connection that begins to solve the reentry problem for this population.
This model has been proven to work in other states; individuals with similar backgrounds, problems and challenges, coming together in an accepting environment where they don’t feel stigmatized or faced being ostracized. Call them communities for the “permanently, hopelessly, institutionalized” if you will, but they, in actuality are, another kind of institution; one that allows for a high degree of successful functioning in the free world. Setting up such communities has certain costs attached to their formation, but not nearly the $25,000 per year it costs to keep an individual in state custody. In fact, if properly managed, the enterprise(s) can become self-sustaining and even profit-making in a relatively short period of time — other have. It’s not rocket science we’re talking about here folks. All that is lacking is the political will, and the backing of elected officials and decision makers. One last thought: Wouldn’t it be wonderful if tax dollars were spent on something that actually worked for a change? If we build it, they will no doubt come, and most will no doubt want to stay. Why would they want to leave... when they have finally found a “home.”?
NOTE: Go back through this document and see if you find the word “inmate” in it anywhere. You can’t, and there is a reason for this: “Inmate” is considered a pejorative term by prisoners, and they detest being addressed as such.
Frazier is a freelance writer and formerly incarcerated person who resides in the Hough neighborhood of Cleveland with his wife Brenda and their two dogs, Gypsy and Ginger. He has been “home” now for 12 years.
By Mansfield Frazier
While it’s accepted wisdom that a certain undetermined percentage of prisoners (after an equally undetermined period of time) become institutionalized, we need to think through this truism, determine what the term actually means in real-life terms, follow it to some logical conclusions, and then attempt to determine what impact those conclusions have on recidivism rates and other aspects of reentry and public safety. No record can be found of any empirical study being carried out on the subject of institutionalization; no accurate information exists to help us determine what percentage of prisoners actually become institutionalized, to what extent they become institutionalized, how long the process of institutionalization takes, or if it is reversible. Indeed, there are a myriad of other questions surrounding this well-known, but little-examined, and less-documented phenomenon that are in need of answers if we wish to lessen its impact on prisoners, and ultimately society. And, make no mistake, the impact and costs created by institutionalization, whether we are cognizant of those costs or not, are extremely high in terms of failed reentry programs and exceptionally high recidivism rates.
From one encyclopedia comes this entry: ”Institutionalization is sometimes used as a term to describe both the treatment of, and damage caused to, vulnerable human beings by the oppressive or corrupt application of inflexible systems of social, medical, or legal controls by publicly owned or not-for-profit organizations originally created for beneficial purposes and intents; or to describe the process of becoming accustomed to life in an institution so that it is difficult to resume normal life after leaving.” That definition can perhaps be expanded and further defined to also include the change in mindset of an individual after a period of incarceration which causes the institutional setting to become the safe and comfortable norm, and free society the frightening aberration. If we accept this theory as possessing validity, then what does it mean in terms of recidivism and reentry? Are we releasing men and women back into society who would rather remain in an institution, and, if so, what impact is that having on public safety, recidivism and corrections budgets? Can we design successful reentry programs for people who are not ready for freedom and (consciously or subconsciously) wish to return to prison? How large is this cohort? Indeed, before those questions can even begin to be answered we have to ask: Can an empirical study of this phenomenon, given the nature of the subject matter, ever be successfully carried out? Can honest and forthright answers be elicited from participants? The ramifications of such knowledge could have broad and far-reaching implications for criminal justice policy and practice in America.
The problems associated with conducting such a study arises from the fact virtually no prisoner (or formerly incarcerated person) will freely admit to being institutionalized; it’s simply too shameful — too painful, just not done. In fact, many prisoners may not even be aware of the fact they have become institutionalized. Everyone in an institution is supposed to want to go “home.” But what if the institution has (knowingly or unknowingly) become “home”? What if there is no family, support system or job out there for an incarcerated person to return “home” to? Marty F., now a highly successful photographer in Las Vegas, once said, “For me, going to prison wasn’t nearly as frightening as coming home.”
There is a strong body of anecdotal evidence (consisting of prison lore, institutional legend and even film culture) to support the theory of institutionalization. In prison stories abound similar to the one about the guy who, upon nearing the end of his sentence, writes the judge who sentenced him a letter stating he will soon be released from custody and will try to kill him at that time. This ploy, if indeed it has ever been used, would garner the prisoner an additional X number of years in custody. Another persistent story is about the person that, upon their release, finds life is simply too complicated for them on the outside, so they throw a brick through the window of a post office and simply stands there and wait for the authorities; this ploy is good for a minimum of five years behind bars.
The unfortunate (and potentially dangerous) situation that regularly occurs is when individuals are released from custody, and then act out in ways that are harmful to society (i.e., committing new crimes) in order to achieve their goal of returning “home.” The way the system is currently set up, a person cannot simply present themselves at the gate of an institution and say “I want back in,” they have to go and commit another crime first. While commonsense and visceral instinct tells us this is occurring in society, we simply have no way of tracking such incidents or quantifying them (nor the damage being done to society), but the larger question is … does this current setup make any sense? Do we want to continue to force individuals to commit crimes in order to get their proverbial “three hots and a cot”? Can we devise a better method for addressing the needs of these individuals?
There was one true story recently of a 60-year-old individual who, finding himself in a three-year lurch between his last gainful employment and the time his social security was schedules to kick in, opted to commit a crime and go to prison for the three years. While this might seem preposterous to the average citizen, the simply fact is, as the saying goes, “One man’s prison is another man’s palace.” While a stint in prison rates very high on the trauma scale (right up there behind the death of a loved one) the experience — or the potential of incarceration — is simply not the same, in terms of trauma, for everyone.
One of the main, persistent mistakes that is being made in terms of the criminal justice system is that lawmakers are viewing the entire process though the prism of their own personal experiences and fears ... their own fear of being incarcerated and what they would lose and leave behind were that to occur. The simple fact is, many — if not most — of the people who are incarcerated in America today don’t have near as much to lose as those making the rules, and therefore are not as intimidated by the rules as those making them.
For effective solutions to America’s burgeoning (and increasingly costly) prison conundrum to be formulated we simply must design punishments that are effective in protecting society by deterring criminal activity and rehabilitating those who do run afoul of the law — while at the same instance acknowledging the socio-economic conditions that have brought us to this virtually untenable place. We have to face the fact that some individuals are not prepared to compete in today’s marketplace, and others never will be able to do so absent some type of close supervision over their lives. And simply churning out more laws and putting forth more punishments that only have the effect of frightening the pants off of average citizens who willingly abides by society’s rules anyway is not going to change that reality one whit. “Tough on crime” hasn’t worked, so maybe it’s time for us to become “smart on crime” instead. And we can begin by designing effective programs to impact on the lives of those who society has the most control over: Prisoners. And to do that we have to understand prisoners needs, wants, desires and — most of all — their fears.
“Separation anxiety” is a well-known fear that causes many prisoners sleepless nights. Both prisoners and staff alike have seen individuals who, upon coming to the realization that they will soon be forced to leave the “home” they have known for X number of years, begin acting out in inappropriate and sometimes violent ways. The prospect of once again being responsible for their own lives (indeed, if they ever were) is simply too overwhelming for them to deal with in an acceptable manner. And prison simply does not allow room — space nor place — for individuals to say “I’m scared.” But the truth is, some prisoners are literally scared to death about the prospect of walking out of those prison gates — leaving “home.”
Over 15 years ago I, along with two other prisoners, was being transported to a federal prison in the back seat of a vehicle being driven by two US marshals who took turns driving. The 25-year-old prisoner sitting in the middle was being returned to prison on a parole violation; he’d only been out for two months he’d informed us. The prison we were gong to sits down in a hollow, and when the vehicle rounded a turn and it came into view, the young man began bouncing up and down in the seat like a kid who was seeing Disneyland for the first time. I remember thinking, “Oh my God, he can’t wait to get back!”
Another true story: A federal parole officer once told me that when he was an officer for juveniles in the state system, the procedure was, when a youngster violated parole he would put them in his personal vehicle and drive them downstate to the facility where they would be housed. When he bought a new Cadillac the number of youths on his caseload that violated parole suddenly tripled … the young people simply wanted to ride in his new car. The fact of where they were riding to didn’t make one bit of difference. Believe me — I’m not making this up folks.
Not for nothing is the film, “The Shawshank Redemption” one of the all-time favorite movies in prisons all over the country. It probably could be played over and over again on movie night in any institution. One scene, where an elderly, beloved prisoner who has recently been released sits in his room contemplating his bleak, lonely future, always strikes a chord in the hearts of even the most hardened criminals, for they know what he is about to do next: Hang himself.
One final real-life example: During my last incarceration an elderly (but still robust), well-liked prisoner who was known by the sobriquet “Bankrobber” was set to be released and everyone at the institution — staff and prisoners alike — were concerned in regards to how he would fair in the free world. He had robbed his first bank at age 18, and had spent virtually his entire 70-plus years behind bars for various robberies, and had no family left to return home to. A few weeks after his release we got word that he had somehow gotten hold of a gun, robbed a bank, and was killed in a shootout with police. We knew this was a case of “suicide by cop.” The real tragic part was that one of the officers, a man with three children and his entire life in front of him, was also killed in the shootout. How many times will this (or something similar) occur over and over again in the future? What can we do about it? As news of Bankrobber’s death spread throughout the institution one deputy warden told us that arrangements had been made for him to go into a nursing home upon his release, but that he had absolutely hated it upon his arrival. The deputy warden then said, “If I was old and had no family, I damn sure would rather be in prison than a in a nursing home.” He knew whereof he spoke, for this reason: Abuse of the elderly is virtually unheard of in prison. Indeed, older prisoners are venerated; respected members of the prison community. And this brings me to the crux of the matter: The sense of community.
Prisons, by the very nature of the barbed-wire that isolates them from society at-large, are the most insular communities on the face of the planet — governed by rules that are written down in volume upon volume of operational manuals, as well as by those rules rigidly enforced by the “residents” of this artificially created “community.”
Now, take a young person who, by their very nature and being, craves order in their life and environment. But said young person comes from a dysfunctional family where food money is often drank or smoked up before the end of each month, leaving cupboards bare; perhaps they were raised in an inner-city project where ducking bullies or bullets sometimes is the order of the day on the way to school. After dropping out of high school they drift aimlessly and eventually begin a life of crime and, of course, get busted. Sounds all too familiar, right?
Now fast forward to the point where the young person is about to be released from the only orderly environment they have ever known: Prison. A place where they have friends, status, and, most importantly, knowledge of what tomorrow will bring … in other words, a safe community. Very, very few prisons in the country are the gladiator schools popularized in TV shows like “Oz.” Most prisons are relatively safe places, once a young person understands the rules. Now, after the young person is released they either go right back to the living situation that failed them in the first place, or, if they can, they try something different. However, for that “something different” to be successful certain needs have to be met and a certain comfort level has to be recreated, and that is where most reentry efforts come up short: They fail to re-create the much-needed sense of community that the person has recently left.
Our fictional young person could, upon their release from prison, begin walking from the center of town and continue walking for miles and miles to the city limits and probably not one person would recognize their humanity, not will person will acknowledge they are alive by speaking to them. Now, contrast that with the institution where a prisoner can barely walk 50 feet without someone — usually another prisoner — asking them how they are doing. Honestly, while I was incarcerated I once got a stubborn rash on the palm of my hand near the wrist; when I went to sick call to get something for it the physician’s assistant that treated me said, “Just quit shaking hands all day long with everyone and it won’t come back.” He was right. To underestimate how powerful the “comradeship” aspect of prison culture is, is to underestimate the basic need for human contact itself. And, speaking of power, a young man who is powerless on the street becomes powerful in prison due to the presence of gangs. And we want this young person, with this newfound power and friendships, to give all of this up to flip hamburgers for minimum wage? The question is, why are we so surprised when reentry programs don’t work any better than they do?
It becomes obvious that the problem we are faced with — at least for those individuals returning home with little or no family or support network — is to recreate the sense of community they recently left. Cursory examinations of the programs around the country that have had continued success in reentry are all based on the model of creating a community of formerly incarcerated persons. The Delancey Street experiment in San Francisco is entering its 30th year; Triangle Residential Options for Substance Abusers (TROSA) is a nonprofit agency in Durham, NC that now owns businesses (among them the largest moving company in the tri-city area) and provides employment for over 300 individuals — virtually all ex-offenders. Their program has been around, and making a difference in lives, since 1994. And, while some might only need these communities for a short period of time (six months to two years) to get back on their feet others make these communities their permanent, lifelong home.
All other solutions being put forth to assist this particular percentage of the reentering population merely nibbles around the edges of the problem. The proof of their lack of utility is their own persistent failures — which are reflected in high recidivism rates. What is needed by this certain percentage of individuals exiting prison is a total, 24-hours-a-day, controlled environment; the kind in which they are used to, and have been living in successfully prior to their release. More specifically, what is needed are housing situations within created communities with strict, no-nonsense rules, clearly defined regulations and tight supervision, run largely by formerly incarcerated persons, for formerly incarcerated persons. Jobs are assigned, training is provided and no bullshit is tolerated. Sorry if the use of the word “bullshit” offends you gentle reader, but you have to talk in the language that the residents of this community understand if you want to get through to them. Therefore, absolutely critical to the success of these types of ventures/communities is that formerly incarcerated persons actually have a strong (if not the strongest) role in their overall, day-to-day operation. It’s called peer mentoring.
And, while people who have not been to prison might mean well, and have substantial classroom training, the people who can most talk the talk (and have similar life experiences, and therefore have credibility) are the ones who can really make the connection that begins to solve the reentry problem for this population.
This model has been proven to work in other states; individuals with similar backgrounds, problems and challenges, coming together in an accepting environment where they don’t feel stigmatized or faced being ostracized. Call them communities for the “permanently, hopelessly, institutionalized” if you will, but they, in actuality are, another kind of institution; one that allows for a high degree of successful functioning in the free world. Setting up such communities has certain costs attached to their formation, but not nearly the $25,000 per year it costs to keep an individual in state custody. In fact, if properly managed, the enterprise(s) can become self-sustaining and even profit-making in a relatively short period of time — other have. It’s not rocket science we’re talking about here folks. All that is lacking is the political will, and the backing of elected officials and decision makers. One last thought: Wouldn’t it be wonderful if tax dollars were spent on something that actually worked for a change? If we build it, they will no doubt come, and most will no doubt want to stay. Why would they want to leave... when they have finally found a “home.”?
NOTE: Go back through this document and see if you find the word “inmate” in it anywhere. You can’t, and there is a reason for this: “Inmate” is considered a pejorative term by prisoners, and they detest being addressed as such.
Frazier is a freelance writer and formerly incarcerated person who resides in the Hough neighborhood of Cleveland with his wife Brenda and their two dogs, Gypsy and Ginger. He has been “home” now for 12 years.
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