Insight on Prison Politics from Mr. Mack

(Hi Mack!  And thanks to Mack's lady for sending photos!)

"First, I would like to say that I truly appreciate the kind and heartfelt comments.  I especially thank you for the condolences.  Believe it or not, even from strangers, that means a lot.  Prison has taught me that blood isn’t always thicker than water, and I am very humbled by the sympathy expressed.  Thank you.

Now, with that said, why would I think just because I’m locked up, politics don’t happen?  Well, not only does the administration cause unnecessary problems, but inmates, in turn, cause drama that can or does result in a beating, stabbing, or worse.  Prison is supposed to be a place where you try and “better yourself,” but I find it is a breeding ground for hate, maliciousness, backbiting, snitching, revenge, and other seemingly nefarious behavior.

The other day I went to work at the education building and, upon arrival, I found out one of the facilitators was fired.  Everyone, including and especially me were saying, “What?”  I say “especially me” because he is the second black dude to be fired in a week.  There are only two of us left, and the other one is ‘high yella,’ as they say, with an afro, so he is probably safe.  LOL!  Wait a minute, I’m going too fast.  Let me digress.

First of all, I am a facilitator for a course called “Credit and Debt Management.”  How did I get into this position?  How I got it isn’t as important as the fact that I’m even teaching a class!  I grew up with a very embarrassing stutter.  It was so bad that my mom would bring me to church and have them lay hands on me to cast out the spirit.  One person would stand behind me, one on each side of me, and the minister in front with his hand on my head.  He or she would put blessed extra virgin olive oil on my forehead while violently shaking me and saying, “In the name of Jesus!  Stuttering demon, we cast you out!”  I would fall to the ground just so they would stop shaking me. 

(Ester as voucher: Yes, this IS what it's like...)

Of course, Mom would also take me to the school’s speech therapist.  For some reason, I could hardly speak normally, but as soon as I stepped into the speech therapist’s office, my impediment would disappear.  In the car I would sound like: “M-m-m-mamma, (pause)… I-I-I hope things go w-w-w-well today.”  Then just 10 minutes later, I’d step into the therapist’s office and she would get me to start talking.  Magically, I would start speaking like an English teacher-in-training.  “Yes, I am in your of-fice speaking per-fect-ly be-cause I have perfect dic-tion.  And since I am such a great speak-er, there is no rea-son for me to be here.”  J  HA HA.  

…Eventually I learned to take my time, but I still couldn’t believe I could hold a speaking job.  Well, Disney World didn’t seem to think so.  When I applied in 1995, the casting office threw me right in to the Guest Services desk at the Wilderness Lodge Resort.  

("I want to go to there!" - it's rated as the best hotel in Orlando for kids!)

Alrighty!  Not only was I highly visible and not from Orlando, I had to talk the entire shift.  Think that’s something?  Hmmph!  In 2002, I ended up being the emcee at a dance club called America’s Pub in Kansas City.  Like the therapist’s office, as soon as I got on the mic, especially with the music off, it all went away. 

Now I’m standing in front of a bunch of dudes with bald heads, muscles, teardrop tattoos on their faces, and I’m teaching them how to order their credit reports, remove negative items, debt-to-credit ratios, and all types of other credit-related topics.  Yikes!  What’s funny is now I have these 6’5” 235-lb skinheads and thugs calling me “teach” and "teacher" when I walk around on the compound.  Double yikes! 

I like it though, because helping dudes in here is a great thing, and I love to see those hardened, bored, irritated, or I-don’t-give-a-shit-looking faces turn into faces like adolescents when they’re really learning something. 

(Photo by Brian Harkin for The New York Times) 

Man, that is pure adrenaline.  Cocaine ain’t got shit on teaching….  OK, let’s not go too far.  Ha.

So as I was saying earlier, dude got fired.  What happened was the head lady’s favorite inmate told her something the dude supposedly said in relation to the call-outs.  Instead of her asking the other party if this was true, she just arbitrarily fired him, which he didn’t find out until the next morning as he tried to go through center gate.  You best believe shit hit the fan once everything was sorted out.  Everyone was upset!  Why?

First of all, the dude is liked by most and he is a man of integrity.  Secondly, he was the only other small business concepts teacher.  Yeah, dude was livid!  Unfortunately for the alledged liar, the dude he crossed is an ex-Marine, has a 35-year sentence (25 years mandatory) and is humble… OH, and he's HUGE.  According to him, he lost a job he valued and his integrity was questioned.  Anyone who knows a Marine can tell you that his integrity means a lot, and once a Marine, always a Marine.

  

He told me on the rec. yard that he will give the head lady a chance to be professional, and if not (I quote): “I will destroy that sneaky little coward and show everybody that he’s a bitch.  If I don’t have a job, he definitely won’t have one.” 

Well, there it is.  Hopefully the ex-Marine doesn’t have to go there because the prison is a place where you try to 'better yourself,' right?"