A guest post from The Rabbi:
Recently I had the uncomfortable and unpleasant experience of going to the visiting park with my family during one of the department's "brain child" ideas on how to get involved with kids who have an incarcerated parent.
First, a mandatory viewing of the Sesame Street video that all inmates had to watch was played. Now at first glance one might say "WOW!". A huge non-profit organization like Sesame Street is involved....it's got to be positive, right? Well, read on and you be the judge of the first-hand experience I had.
It started as soon as visitor's pulled into the compound. The suited stiff's were there to meet and greet our loved ones. People our loved ones would generally never see or talk to (especially if it involved the well being of said incarcerated parent). Our loved ones were in the visiting park before 8 a.m., which never happens! Once everyone was filed in, they forced you to listen to someone you didn't know, talk about their "free" family, and how they really cared for family of inmates while camera flashes were non stop! Catching all the suited higher ups in all their glory! (Can you say PHOTO OPP!)
Because that is what this amounted to....they forced our families, some of whom traveled miles to see their loved one. They robbed us of our time together. Then, once they finished that they played the video for the children to watch.....further trying to lure away the kids from the only real time they spend with their incarcerated parent.
At one point, the warden himself came to our table and asked if my stepdaughter wanted to go up front and watch the movie. When she said no (she's 5 years old), he looked genuinely puzzled and confused until I explained to him that she is scared of Sesame Street characters.
See....even though I'm incarcerated I make it my business to know thing about my kids. Their likes and dislikes. So how is someone in a suit up in Tallahassee going to tell me more about my kids than me? I was disappointed with the whole ordeal and pissed that my family was subjected to this against their will.
If the department really wants to do something to make it easier on kids who have a parent in prison, how about also making a friendlier child environment both in and on the outside. The issue is that the parent is in prison, right? So...when a child comes to visit, an innocent child, you have to ask yourself do you really want to taint your child's mind with information that when the time is right he/she will ask about anyways? Isn't that the point of the Sesame Street program? That when your child is asking questions, there is a program in place to help if you see fit?
Maybe it's me, but when I see this issue, I see it through all perspectives. Not just through an office window. I mean as it stands, the department expects you (the reader) and me (the parent) to believe that they want to help the children of those who are incarcerated. If the department of corrections really wants to help the children of those who are incarcerated, they might consider providing hands-on job training and job placement upon release instead of 50 bucks and a boot in the ass as you go out the door. (And simply using the Sesame Street program for a big photo opp!)
I'm insulted and I feel as thought they have insulted your intelligence by exposing you to this.
Showing posts with label D.O.C.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D.O.C.. Show all posts
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Friday, June 7, 2013
Defining Moments in a Man's Life
My latest issue of Men's Health had an article about the moments in a man's life that shape the man he becomes. This is the very same magazine the D.O.C. literature review committee is now trying to reject each month. One thing I can get here that inspires me and they want to take that away. Yet they say they want to rehabilitate us.
Reading this article caused me to look over my life and remember the moments that caused growth toward manhood. Well, the day a judge handed me a 12 year sentence in prison changed my life. If you can, picture life like a buffet line. There are all sots of dishes. Some are appetizers. Others are sweets. You can try something a little out of your comfort zone. One plate you may not care for, but another may make you nearly gag.
Are you looking over your life yet? What's that moment for you?
Often times we forget. As children our parents handle the big stuff. If we have loving, caring parents the very description of their job is to keep your problems small. Yet it seems those very problems become the very things that inspire growth in us. I would guess most people's defining moments happen later on in life. They become the transition from children to adult.
We have seen the pastor who preaches the importance of being faithful to your spouse from his pulpit, yet is knocking off the choir director on the side. Or the very teacher at the AA meeting caught with a purse-full of prescription meds. At times, people preach a sermon that sounds well researched. Yet when their own life is faced with a hurdle, they take an "F" on performance.
I think the best advocate for breast cancer awareness is the lady who suffered the loss of a breast. There's a real passion for what she does. I would guess the day she was diagnosed with cancer was probably her defining moment.
At the time we are faced with this "thing", the last thing on our mind is seeing it as the very thing that will shape the person we are. It's only after we emerge from the other side that we can see the change it inspired in our life.
Like the mother who lost her son to a drunk driver. Then in court, she finds the love in her heart to forgive the guilty man. Wow!! What kind of love is that? And what a blessing she not only brings to herself, but the lesson she teaches to the guilty party.
The day I was sentenced to 12 years in prison was a dumb-founded moment for me. All these years later, I now see it differently. When I thought about what the most impacting time of my life was, it was the day I was sentenced. That is the very moment that defined the man I am today.
And I wonder....I wonder how many people will have their defining moments from my life. And how long will it take you see that?
Reading this article caused me to look over my life and remember the moments that caused growth toward manhood. Well, the day a judge handed me a 12 year sentence in prison changed my life. If you can, picture life like a buffet line. There are all sots of dishes. Some are appetizers. Others are sweets. You can try something a little out of your comfort zone. One plate you may not care for, but another may make you nearly gag.
Are you looking over your life yet? What's that moment for you?
Often times we forget. As children our parents handle the big stuff. If we have loving, caring parents the very description of their job is to keep your problems small. Yet it seems those very problems become the very things that inspire growth in us. I would guess most people's defining moments happen later on in life. They become the transition from children to adult.
We have seen the pastor who preaches the importance of being faithful to your spouse from his pulpit, yet is knocking off the choir director on the side. Or the very teacher at the AA meeting caught with a purse-full of prescription meds. At times, people preach a sermon that sounds well researched. Yet when their own life is faced with a hurdle, they take an "F" on performance.
I think the best advocate for breast cancer awareness is the lady who suffered the loss of a breast. There's a real passion for what she does. I would guess the day she was diagnosed with cancer was probably her defining moment.
At the time we are faced with this "thing", the last thing on our mind is seeing it as the very thing that will shape the person we are. It's only after we emerge from the other side that we can see the change it inspired in our life.
Like the mother who lost her son to a drunk driver. Then in court, she finds the love in her heart to forgive the guilty man. Wow!! What kind of love is that? And what a blessing she not only brings to herself, but the lesson she teaches to the guilty party.
The day I was sentenced to 12 years in prison was a dumb-founded moment for me. All these years later, I now see it differently. When I thought about what the most impacting time of my life was, it was the day I was sentenced. That is the very moment that defined the man I am today.
And I wonder....I wonder how many people will have their defining moments from my life. And how long will it take you see that?
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Classified Fools & Nonesence
Man.....they do things really unorganized around prison. You can never predict things around here. The reasonable choice is never picked. Instead the least likely is.
I truly wonder about state and government jobs. No wonder our nation is in such turmoil. They continually shoot themselves in the foot. Over and over again. It amazes me.
We are looked at as 'dumb' prisoners. Yet we ran shops, stores, banks, businesses and much more. Instead of even consider suggestions from anyone, they will continue to stumble around like a blind man. For this reason, the prison system is a continuous cluster fuck.
I find it quite entertaining. Who needs cable TV? It's real-life DOC drama. I watch them plant shrubs one day. Next week, they pull them and plan them somewhere else. Or....just never water them and they die the next week.
I feel like I live in the circus. Non-stop clowning around.
Anyways....you wonder where I get some of my ideas from? I know that if a job can be done by 5 people, then why pay 25 to do it?
And that's the system in a nutshell. Ever heard of too many chiefs and not enough Indians? It seems to me that everybody is a sergeant now and there are no officers anymore. That trips me out. Everyone want to run something. Nobody is doing anything. Remember this in the place of employment. It's better to have five, well-paid people who work their ass off for you. People who like their job and want to keep it versus the 25 people who don't give a shit. That's why you make money, while the department of corrections is slowly but surely imploding on itself. It is a time bomb that in five years will go belly up.
That's why private camps are becoming more common. They are the bail-out plan for Florida. They won't agree to release and then supervise inmates. Many states release to a parole/probation setup and the prisoner then pays the state for their care. Not the case in Florida. So they do what I said at the beginning.....they shoot themselves. This is not a specific prison, this is the whole state. This place, this state should stick to tourism....that is what they are good at.
Enough of all that, huh?? Just a small rant for you. Right now I am another burden on this state. Another occupied bunk. Another brick in the wall. One interesting roller-coaster ride. One thing is for sure....this is the first prison I have been to that is laid back and casual. Everyone in the pan-handle is running around and getting nothing done. And they yell and give each other a heart attack. What's so hard about clocking into work and putting your hours in....then go home. Leave your work behind. Spend time with your family. Watch your kids grow up. Save your worrying about where your kids will go to college. Instead, somebody wants to be a hero. They want to punish an inmate even more. They forget that you are already away from your wife, children and a home-cooked meal.
Now, some dudes love this shit. They should be shot. If you truly have nothing on the outside of this fence to live for, then you have truly burned some bridges. And you are a moron. That same person should be spending their time writing loved ones and mending fences. However, they are the ones to harass medical and tie up the staff so when you really do need their medical attention, they are wasting their time on some dick-weed burn out who is trying to bum a low-bunk pass. Yes, this is how it works.
Fucking losers!
I head to medical because I have a tumor in my chest and can't see a nurse because she is busy. Why??? Because some jack-ass is trying to hustle medication so he can sell it on the compound.
Enough.....I know. I said I was done. Now I am. The tumor was benign and not a threat. The treat is some dip-shit ahead of me who pisses off an otherwise nice nurse, by bringing his bullshit ass to medical to waste her time.
Whew!! That was a long rant. I am out!!
I truly wonder about state and government jobs. No wonder our nation is in such turmoil. They continually shoot themselves in the foot. Over and over again. It amazes me.
We are looked at as 'dumb' prisoners. Yet we ran shops, stores, banks, businesses and much more. Instead of even consider suggestions from anyone, they will continue to stumble around like a blind man. For this reason, the prison system is a continuous cluster fuck.
I find it quite entertaining. Who needs cable TV? It's real-life DOC drama. I watch them plant shrubs one day. Next week, they pull them and plan them somewhere else. Or....just never water them and they die the next week.
I feel like I live in the circus. Non-stop clowning around.
Anyways....you wonder where I get some of my ideas from? I know that if a job can be done by 5 people, then why pay 25 to do it?
And that's the system in a nutshell. Ever heard of too many chiefs and not enough Indians? It seems to me that everybody is a sergeant now and there are no officers anymore. That trips me out. Everyone want to run something. Nobody is doing anything. Remember this in the place of employment. It's better to have five, well-paid people who work their ass off for you. People who like their job and want to keep it versus the 25 people who don't give a shit. That's why you make money, while the department of corrections is slowly but surely imploding on itself. It is a time bomb that in five years will go belly up.
That's why private camps are becoming more common. They are the bail-out plan for Florida. They won't agree to release and then supervise inmates. Many states release to a parole/probation setup and the prisoner then pays the state for their care. Not the case in Florida. So they do what I said at the beginning.....they shoot themselves. This is not a specific prison, this is the whole state. This place, this state should stick to tourism....that is what they are good at.
Enough of all that, huh?? Just a small rant for you. Right now I am another burden on this state. Another occupied bunk. Another brick in the wall. One interesting roller-coaster ride. One thing is for sure....this is the first prison I have been to that is laid back and casual. Everyone in the pan-handle is running around and getting nothing done. And they yell and give each other a heart attack. What's so hard about clocking into work and putting your hours in....then go home. Leave your work behind. Spend time with your family. Watch your kids grow up. Save your worrying about where your kids will go to college. Instead, somebody wants to be a hero. They want to punish an inmate even more. They forget that you are already away from your wife, children and a home-cooked meal.
Now, some dudes love this shit. They should be shot. If you truly have nothing on the outside of this fence to live for, then you have truly burned some bridges. And you are a moron. That same person should be spending their time writing loved ones and mending fences. However, they are the ones to harass medical and tie up the staff so when you really do need their medical attention, they are wasting their time on some dick-weed burn out who is trying to bum a low-bunk pass. Yes, this is how it works.
Fucking losers!
I head to medical because I have a tumor in my chest and can't see a nurse because she is busy. Why??? Because some jack-ass is trying to hustle medication so he can sell it on the compound.
Enough.....I know. I said I was done. Now I am. The tumor was benign and not a threat. The treat is some dip-shit ahead of me who pisses off an otherwise nice nurse, by bringing his bullshit ass to medical to waste her time.
Whew!! That was a long rant. I am out!!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Along Came A Spider
With my new job in food service came a new dorm, a new bunk, new neighbors, and a new view out a different window. Then, along came a spider that has given me an even better view than that window provided.
Living in this window, not fourteen inches from my head, is a Brown Recluse spider. I assume a completely sane person would remove the spider and tear down the web. Thing is...the spider was there before me and nobody has been rushed to the hospital from a spider bite. This logic may seem odd to you. However, we ride man-made roller-coasters that can fail at any time. We attend happy hour where we drink one too many and then drive home, putting not only our lives, but the lives of others on the line. And this all seems completely sane to us. Really it's all a matter of perspective I suppose.
I doubt this spider knows his own power. His life consists of catching flies and the occasional moth. Somewhere in society is a person who would like nothing more than to step on me and tear down my web. So the spider can live in my window. We are two rebels that deserve to live.
I don't expect you to agree with me. Case in point....
I have a toxic spider living inches from my head. A spider that sticks to his web. Coming out only at night to repair his web and collect his meal. Two years ago my sister began a blog as a way for people to follow my life both before and during my incarceration in D.O.C. As a reader you have watched that journey take place. Within my first year imprisoned, my direct appeal was denied. Fifteen months ago I asked the courts to again review my case. A few weeks ago I filed a motion asking the courts to show cause and rule on that motion.
I let my family know what I was doing. My woman asked if I was nervous. I realized that in fact, I am not. I'm just ready to know the courts decision. Some things are out of our hands. I did ask my lady if she could handle six more years if they again deny me. My lady laughs and says, "Oh, Michael....you're a silly boy!!" God bless the ladies in my life who see past my many faults and choose to love me unconditionally.
Unconditional love brings me back to the spider. Somewhere he probably has a mother who doesn't care that he is poisonous. She loves him for who he is. I'm just saying....
Society as a whole has begun to change the way they view people. The older generation of conservatives is slowly being replaced by a more liberal group. So even though I can't flip burgers at McDonald's, I can marry another man if that's what I choose. There was a time being labeled a convicted felon excluded you from many jobs. Although that is changing also, it is ironic that it never seemed to exclude us from cleaning your pool or carpet, picking up your trash, changing the oil in your car, mowing your grass, or building your home. For that matter, the logic behind some people's thought process amazes me. And you thought I'm crazy because a spider lives in my window.
Today the number of felons has sky-rocketed. More than likely you know one, if not have one directly in your family. Perhaps you are one. Do you ever feel like that spider? Wishing you could just maintain your web and catch a few flies without some sorry-ass prick coming by to tear down your web?
Keep reading this blog. It's like finding Waldo with a twist! What's that Tattoo'd Hooligan up to today? I'm somewhere within the parameters of this chain-length fence. Whether I'm marching in a formed line or spraying food off cafeteria trays...I'm in here. Be happy that you are out there.
Living in this window, not fourteen inches from my head, is a Brown Recluse spider. I assume a completely sane person would remove the spider and tear down the web. Thing is...the spider was there before me and nobody has been rushed to the hospital from a spider bite. This logic may seem odd to you. However, we ride man-made roller-coasters that can fail at any time. We attend happy hour where we drink one too many and then drive home, putting not only our lives, but the lives of others on the line. And this all seems completely sane to us. Really it's all a matter of perspective I suppose.
I doubt this spider knows his own power. His life consists of catching flies and the occasional moth. Somewhere in society is a person who would like nothing more than to step on me and tear down my web. So the spider can live in my window. We are two rebels that deserve to live.
I don't expect you to agree with me. Case in point....
I have a toxic spider living inches from my head. A spider that sticks to his web. Coming out only at night to repair his web and collect his meal. Two years ago my sister began a blog as a way for people to follow my life both before and during my incarceration in D.O.C. As a reader you have watched that journey take place. Within my first year imprisoned, my direct appeal was denied. Fifteen months ago I asked the courts to again review my case. A few weeks ago I filed a motion asking the courts to show cause and rule on that motion.
I let my family know what I was doing. My woman asked if I was nervous. I realized that in fact, I am not. I'm just ready to know the courts decision. Some things are out of our hands. I did ask my lady if she could handle six more years if they again deny me. My lady laughs and says, "Oh, Michael....you're a silly boy!!" God bless the ladies in my life who see past my many faults and choose to love me unconditionally.
Unconditional love brings me back to the spider. Somewhere he probably has a mother who doesn't care that he is poisonous. She loves him for who he is. I'm just saying....
Society as a whole has begun to change the way they view people. The older generation of conservatives is slowly being replaced by a more liberal group. So even though I can't flip burgers at McDonald's, I can marry another man if that's what I choose. There was a time being labeled a convicted felon excluded you from many jobs. Although that is changing also, it is ironic that it never seemed to exclude us from cleaning your pool or carpet, picking up your trash, changing the oil in your car, mowing your grass, or building your home. For that matter, the logic behind some people's thought process amazes me. And you thought I'm crazy because a spider lives in my window.
Today the number of felons has sky-rocketed. More than likely you know one, if not have one directly in your family. Perhaps you are one. Do you ever feel like that spider? Wishing you could just maintain your web and catch a few flies without some sorry-ass prick coming by to tear down your web?
Keep reading this blog. It's like finding Waldo with a twist! What's that Tattoo'd Hooligan up to today? I'm somewhere within the parameters of this chain-length fence. Whether I'm marching in a formed line or spraying food off cafeteria trays...I'm in here. Be happy that you are out there.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Hello Food Service!
My first week on the job and they have yet to fire. All this time in prison and my jobs have all been super easy. I have a real job now. Even though my hands are dish-pan hands and very soft, I'm busting my ass.
I am working for the food service. They placed me on the A.M. shift. I wake up at 2 a.m. and head to work. I finish around 10:45 a.m. I'm not adjusted to this new schedule yet. I'm still falling asleep at 11 p.m. then waking up three hours later to go to work. I'm exhausted. During my four years in D.O.C. I have never worked this hard. All the other jobs are a joke compared to food service. They work your ass. Decide not to work, then you are getting locked up for refusal to work (that's confinement time). The only perk is you can eat. And eat is what I do.
Food service has it's own dorm. Two sides: one is for the A.M. shift, the other is for the P.M. shift. So far it seems to be the most disrespected dorm on the compound. You would think since we feed everyone this wouldn't be the case.
When I first came to prison an old-timer showed me the ropes. He said, "Always take care of the men who wash your clothes and the ones who feed you." Makes sense to me. The laundry man sews, patches, and replaces your clothes. Likewise, the kitchen feeds you. Yet the guys who work food service are basically shitted on. This has caused me to resort back to yet another rule of the chain-gang...look out for yourself.
You come to prison by yourself. You will leave prison by yourself. Don't worry about what the other guy does...worry about yourself.
Along the way you will meet some good guys. Those are the ones you look out for. The ones who will look out for you. They are few and far between. None-the-less....they are here. My first week in this new job, and I have already found some. I have a new bunkie, a new work out crew, and a new laundry man. My life behind bars just hist restart in some weird way. My first week in this new job has literally flown by. That's a good thing.
I have heard dozens of stories about food service. The cook sweating over your food. Meals prepared and prepped by bare, unwashed hands. Guys forced to work even when they are sick. The list goes on. Truth is...it's hard NOT to sweat when you are in full uniform in a 100+ degree kitchen. Then you stand over a boiling kettle or a steaming dishwasher. I'm in a dish room. I load cafeteria trays onto racks that are then ran through a commercial dishwasher with boiling water to sterilize them. The trays are then removed and stacked on drying racks. Remember this is not a mom and pop diner. This is 1,100 to 1,200 inmates being fed in a 2-hour rush. This isn't fine dining.
So yeah....
Now I'm the guy standing in a kitchen sweating my ass off. For what it's worth, we eat the food we make. This is prison, not five star dining. When I can, I'm going back for seconds. Right now, I'm about to enjoy two full days off. On the street I used to say I lived for Friday. My Friday is now on Sunday. My plan is to sleep. While you chase the American Dream....I chase my release date.
Check out who else does the dishes in D.O.C.......
I am working for the food service. They placed me on the A.M. shift. I wake up at 2 a.m. and head to work. I finish around 10:45 a.m. I'm not adjusted to this new schedule yet. I'm still falling asleep at 11 p.m. then waking up three hours later to go to work. I'm exhausted. During my four years in D.O.C. I have never worked this hard. All the other jobs are a joke compared to food service. They work your ass. Decide not to work, then you are getting locked up for refusal to work (that's confinement time). The only perk is you can eat. And eat is what I do.
Food service has it's own dorm. Two sides: one is for the A.M. shift, the other is for the P.M. shift. So far it seems to be the most disrespected dorm on the compound. You would think since we feed everyone this wouldn't be the case.
When I first came to prison an old-timer showed me the ropes. He said, "Always take care of the men who wash your clothes and the ones who feed you." Makes sense to me. The laundry man sews, patches, and replaces your clothes. Likewise, the kitchen feeds you. Yet the guys who work food service are basically shitted on. This has caused me to resort back to yet another rule of the chain-gang...look out for yourself.
You come to prison by yourself. You will leave prison by yourself. Don't worry about what the other guy does...worry about yourself.
Along the way you will meet some good guys. Those are the ones you look out for. The ones who will look out for you. They are few and far between. None-the-less....they are here. My first week in this new job, and I have already found some. I have a new bunkie, a new work out crew, and a new laundry man. My life behind bars just hist restart in some weird way. My first week in this new job has literally flown by. That's a good thing.
I have heard dozens of stories about food service. The cook sweating over your food. Meals prepared and prepped by bare, unwashed hands. Guys forced to work even when they are sick. The list goes on. Truth is...it's hard NOT to sweat when you are in full uniform in a 100+ degree kitchen. Then you stand over a boiling kettle or a steaming dishwasher. I'm in a dish room. I load cafeteria trays onto racks that are then ran through a commercial dishwasher with boiling water to sterilize them. The trays are then removed and stacked on drying racks. Remember this is not a mom and pop diner. This is 1,100 to 1,200 inmates being fed in a 2-hour rush. This isn't fine dining.
So yeah....
Now I'm the guy standing in a kitchen sweating my ass off. For what it's worth, we eat the food we make. This is prison, not five star dining. When I can, I'm going back for seconds. Right now, I'm about to enjoy two full days off. On the street I used to say I lived for Friday. My Friday is now on Sunday. My plan is to sleep. While you chase the American Dream....I chase my release date.
Check out who else does the dishes in D.O.C.......
 | |||||
| Former Illinois Governor, Rod Blagojevich http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/04/23/blagojevich-prison-washes-dishes_n_1447437.html |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)