Mother's Day: Love and Reconciliation.

Letter to a Formerly Incarcerated Mother

by Donnie Nicole Belcher

Dear Ma,

I can remember the anger and bitterness that I felt towards you as a little girl. I can also remember longing to share my A+ homework with you. The longing to talk to you about the issues that I, then an elementary school student, had. And my longing to share with you which boy had the worst case of "cooties." More than the bitterness, I can remember the unbreakable bond, and the insurmountable love that I felt, that overpowered that bitterness and anger that I kept inside.

Granny used to take me up the highway to see you pretty much every weekend, and I always remember the small things that would amaze me. The way you and I would dress alike sometimes, wearing the same jumpsuit, or the way that you never seemed to be angry, or upset by your experience. I always cherished, and continue to cherish the photographs that we had taken. I also remember hating to leave the visiting room, and hating to leave you in that place, that required me to walk through metal detectors and through electric gates.

You told me recently that on my first visit to the prison, I cried. You told me then that I had to stop crying or I wouldn't be able to visit anymore. As you said that I dried my face as fast as I could. Most of all, I remember your letters, your phone calls, and you always telling me to be strong, because you only had a little while to go before you'd be home with me.

Momma, now that I am a young woman, 18 years old, and you've been out of prison a number of years now, I realize that you and I are alike in more ways than one. I not only share your beautiful brown skin your broad flat nose, and the crinkle in the middle of your forehead that shows when you're angry, frustrated or just plain tired. I not only share your "chicken legs, or your black baby toenail, but I share many of your inner qualities.

Our roads in life have been different. Your road had a lot of dead ends, a lot of close calls, a few accidents, and a lot of sharp curves, steep hills and streets with no lights to guide you. My road has been pretty straight and narrow, with a few unexpected weather conditions causing the road to be wet and slippery, a few potholes, and lots of speed bumps. Despite the fact that our roads have been different, I realize that our driving style, and our vehicles (that is, our approach to life) and our personality traits are very similar. You also have much more mileage than I do, thus I have learned from your life experience.

The most important lesson that I have learned from your life is power of choice. I understand, from your experience, that every decision that I make has a direct effect on the rest of my life. I understand that having a drug addiction, or being incarcerated, were not your life long goals. However, the small decisions that you made prior to those experiences were what led to those life experiences.

Another important lesson that I learned from you is resilience: the ability to "bounce" back from any situation. Whenever you were down, you did not stay down and dwell in that situation. You assessed what went wrong, picked yourself up and kept moving. I, too maintain that same quality of resilience. No matter what happens (I may fail a test here or there, miss a deadline here or there, or make an even worse decision) I understand that I have the ability to get back up, and keep moving.

Momma, at the time, I didn't understand the challenges you were facing when you were released from prison. I did not understand that you had to mark the fact that you had been in prison on every job application, and that it made it harder for you to get hired. I did not understand how you had to adjust to the changing world, as you had been in an institution that doesn't do a good job of keeping up with the fast pace of the outside world. Most of all, I did not understand the emotional roller coaster you must have been experiencing within yourself when you had to face all of those judgmental people who silently wished and waited for you to slip back into your old lifestyle. Those people who refused to accept that you were changing your life for the better, and those people who dangled the past in your face.

So, the second and third qualities that I learned from your life experience were persistence and attitude. No matter how many times you were told "no," you continued to ask, and ask. While watching you in this process, I learned that no matter how many "no" answers you receive, there is bound to be someone who will say "yes." No matter how many doors are slammed in my face, I understand that one door will be wide open eventually, and this I learned from you. From you, I also learned that attitude does not have to be a bad thing. I learned that attitude can be channeled and used as a motivation to elevate myself.

The life lessons that I learned from you could never have been learned in a classroom, or from a textbook. You have still been my greatest and most effective teacher. If it were not for your addiction, I would not have known the power of chemical substances and perhaps, like most teens, would have explored curiosity. Because I know the power of chemical substances, I pledged myself a long, long time ago, that I would never even try a small amount of any substance.

Unlike most teenagers, I had the first hand experience of prison; because of your stories, and your experience, I learned that prison was the last place that I wanted to be. I learned that prison was not a place for people with big dreams and big goals. I pledged to myself a long time ago that I would watch the company that I keep and watch my actions so that I would not end up in prison.

When strangers, as well as people who we know, tell us that we are alike I am extremely proud because my mother and I have the power to withstand any and all obstacles that are placed in our way. As some people would say, it is in our blood.

Now I am a college student, on the straight and narrow, and I can see the taillights of my mother's vehicle, giving me guidance. I can see my mother's vehicle in front of me, reminding me to slow down, switch lanes, and turn my headlights on bright. As a young woman, I am learning the power of planning, the power of happiness, and the power of my mother's life lessons. I appreciate everything that my mother has taught me, and I accept and embrace everything that has taken place both negative and positive, because all things that have happened are apart of the divine plan for my life. Everything that has happened has made me the person that I am today: a person that I love, and a person that has been heavily influenced by the life of a formerly incarcerated mother.

Originally published at

Women and Prison: A Site for Resistance

a project of Beyondmedia Education.

Beyondmedia Education
4001 N. Ravenswood #204 C
Chicago, IL 60613
USA
tel: 773-857-7300
fax: 773-857-7301
info@womenandprison.org
www.beyondmedia.org

Mother's Day: Silent Tears.

Will She Ever Know My Name?

by Kebby Warner

Tiny little hands gripping my own,

Promises made only to be broken.

Who do I blame? Myself, of course.

Will she ever know my name?

Wanting to change my past,

Uncertain about my future.

Mistake made, lessons learned…life.

Will she ever know my name?

Phone calls once a month.

The tiny little voice so many miles away.

Longing to hold her in my arms.

Will she ever know my name?

Silent tears flow down my face.

No one can see them they’re hiding,

Hiding them selves inside my soul.

She still doesn’t know my name,

Will she ever know?

--------------------------

 

Originally published at:

Women and Prison: A Site for Resistance, 
a project of Beyondmedia Education.

Beyondmedia Education
4001 N. Ravenswood #204 C
Chicago, IL 60613
USA
tel: 773-857-7300
fax: 773-857-7301
info@womenandprison.org
www.beyondmedia.org

Mother's Day, Sentencing, and the War on Drugs

Women in Prison: A Fact Sheet

The Issue: Sentencing and the War on Drugs

Amnesty International-USA (2007)

The Department of Justice found that women were over represented among low level drug offenders who were non-violent, had minimal or no prior criminal history, and were not principal figures in criminal organizations or activities, but nevertheless received sentences similar to “high level” drug offenders under the mandatory sentencing policies. From 1986 to 1996 the number of women sentenced to state prison for drug crimes increased ten-fold. Nationally one in three women in prison and one in four women in jail are incarcerated for violating a drug law. (Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics Prisoners in 1997)

·  According to The Boston Globe, "nearly 26% of the nearly 2000 men and women crowding Massachusetts prisons for  drug crimes are first-time offenders…. Worse, nearly three out of four drug traffickers who do get charged in major cases, but agree to forfeit substantial drug money to prosecutors, bargain their way out of the long sentences…. The result: those with no money or information to trade face the hard mandatory sentences."

·     From 1986 to 1996, the number of women sentenced to state prison for drug crimes increased from 2,370 to 23,700.  (Bureau of Justice Statistics, Washington DC Prisoners in 1997)

·  In 1986, 12.0% of women in prison were drug offenders. In 1991, 32.8% of women in prison were incarcerated for  drug offenses.  (Women in Prison, Survey of State Prison Inmates, 1991. US Department of Justice, March 1994, NCJ 145321)

The Issue: Sexual Assault and Misconduct Against Women in Prison

The imbalance of power between inmates and guards involves the use of direct physical force and indirect force based on the prisoners’ total dependency on officers for basic necessities and the guards’ ability to withhold privileges. Some women are coerced into sex for favors such as extra

food or personal hygiene products, or to avoid punishment.   

·  Powerlessness and Humiliation

There are 148,200 women in state and federal prisons. In federal women’s correctional facilities, 70% of guards are male.  Records show correctional officials have subjected female inmates to rape, other sexual assault, sexual extortion, and groping during body searches. Male correctional officials watch women undressing, in the shower or the toilet. Male correctional officials retaliate, often brutally, against female inmates who complain about sexual assault and harassment

·  Retaliation and Fear

In many states guards have access to and are encouraged to review the inmates’ personal history files (this includes any  record of complaints against themselves or other prison authorities). Guards threaten the prisoner’s children and visitation rights as a means of silencing the women. Guards issue rule infraction tickets, which extend the woman’s  stay in prison if she speaks out. Prisoners who complain are frequently placed in administration segregation.

·  Impunity 

Ineffective formal procedures, legislation and reporting capacity within US jails and prisons account for much of the  ongoing sexual abuse of women. In 1997, according to the US Justice Department only 10 prison employees in the  entire federal system were disciplined, and only 7 were prosecuted. If a prison official is found guilty, he is often simply transferred (“walked off the yard”) to another facility instead of being fired. The inmate may also be transferred. 

The Issue: Medical Neglect of Women in US Prisons

Women are denied essential medical resources and treatments, especially during times of pregnancy and/or chronic and degenerative diseases.

·  Failure to refer seriously ill inmates for treatment and delays in treatment

Women inmates suffering from treatable diseases such as asthma, diabetes, sickle cell anemia, cancer, late-term miscarriages, and seizures have little or no access to medical attention, sometimes resulting in permanent injury or death. Instances of failure to deliver life-saving drugs for inmates with HIV/AIDS have also been noted.  

·  Lack of qualified personnel and resources and use of non-medical staff

There is too few staff to meet physical and mental health needs. This often results in long delays in obtaining medical attention; disrupted and poor quality treatment causing physical deterioration of prisoners with chronic and degenerative diseases, like cancer; overmedication of prisoners with psychotropic drugs; and lack of mental health treatment. The use of  non-medical staff to screen requests for treatment is also common. 

·  Charges for medical attention

In violation of international standards, many prisons/jails charge inmates for medical attention, arguing that the charge deters prisoners from seeking medical attention for minor matters or because they want to avoid work. In some supermaximum prisons, where prisoners cannot work at all, the US Justice Dept. expressed concern that charging prisoners impedes their access to health care.

·  Inadequate Reproductive Health Care

In 1994, the National Institute of Corrections stated that provision of gynecological services for women in prison is inadequate.  Only half of the state prison systems surveyed offer female-specific services such as mammograms and Pap smears, and often entail a long wait to be seen.

·  Shackling During Pregnancy

Shackling of all prisoners, including pregnant prisoners, is standard policy in federal prisons and in the US Marshall Service and exists in almost all state prisons. Shackling during labor may cause complications during delivery such as hemorrhage or decreased fetal heart rate. If a caesarian section is needed, a delay of even 5 minutes may result in permanent brain damage to the baby.

  

·  Lack of treatment for substance abuse

The gap between services available and treatment needs continues to grow. The number of prisoners with histories of drug abuse is growing, but the proportion of prisoners receiving treatment declined from 40% in 1991 to 18% in 1997.  

·  Lack of Adequate or Appropriate Mental Health Services

 48-88% of women inmates suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder due to sexual or physical abuse experienced prior to coming to prison.  Very few prison systems provide counseling. Women attempting to access mental health services are routinely given medication without opportunity to undergo psychotherapeutic treatment.  

The Issue: Discrimination Based On Gender, Race and Sexual Orientation

The growth in incarceration has had its greatest impact on minorities, particularly African Americans. Women are most vulnerable to different forms of discrimination, including sexual harrasment or abuse. Women that do not fit the “norm”, such as lesbians, are more succeptable to torture and abuse.

Discrimination Based on Race:

·  Over a five-year period, the incarceration rate of African American women increased by 828%. (NAACP LDF Equal Justice Spring 1998.) An African American woman is eight times more likely than a European American woman is to be imprisoned.  African American women make up nearly half of the nation’s female prison population, with most serving sentences for nonviolent drug or property related offenses. 

·  Latina women experience nearly four times the rates of incarceration as European American women.

·  State and federal laws mandate minimum sentences for all drug offenders.  This eliminates the option for judges to refer first time non-violent offenders to drug treatment, counseling and education programs.  The racial disparity revealed by the crack v. powder cocaine sentences insures that more African American women will land in prison.

Although 2/3 of crack users are white or Hispanic, defendants convicted of crack cocaine possession in 1994 were 84.5% African American.  Crack is the only drug that carries a mandatory prison sentence for first time possession in the federal system. 

Discrimination Based On Sexual Orientation:

·   Human Rights Watch has documented categories of women who are likely targets for sexual abuse. Perceived or actual sexual orientation is one of four categories that make a female prisoner a more likely target for sexual abuse, as well as a target for retaliation when she reports that abuse.

·  If a woman is a lesbian, her criminal defense becomes more challenging.  Jurors in the US were polled as to what factors would make them most biased against a defendant, and perceived sexual orientation was chosen as the most likely personal characteristic to bias a juror against a defendant, three times greater than race. (National Law Journal November 2, 1998.)

·  The case of Robin Lucas depicts how sexual identity may subject a woman to further abuse or torture by a guard. She was placed in a men’s prison where male guards allowed male inmates to rape her.  The male guards taunted her about her same sex relationship, saying to her “maybe we can change your mind”.  

For more information on issues affecting women in prison and other women’s human rights issues, please visit the Women’s Human Rights Program website at www.amnestyusa.org/women or contact us at AIUSA 5 Penn Plaza-16th floor, New York, NY 10001 or at (212) 633-4292.

Mother's Day: My Son's Birthday

My Son's Birthday

by Deanna Lynd

You came into the world fast and furious,

when I held you, you looked up at me with eyes wide and curious.

My heart changed in an instant.

For once my own childhood seemed so distant.

I vowed to do my best, to love and cherish you

and trust your father to do the rest.

From my arms you were taken

back to my cell I was sent

fifteen years will never compare to what losing you meant.

The ache in my heart is so deep,

not being beside you to watch you sleep.

I never knew your smell I could only pick up the telephone

and ask if you were doing well.

Months went by as I watched you grow

through photographs missing all the hugs, kisses,

the love and laughs.

I awaited my fate,

not yet knowing my release date. Time went by

you began to talk and walk on your own

I learned I would not be free until you are grown.

I try to remain strong and pay my debt.

It is an extravagant bill living each day

with the heartache I feel.

Sometimes I pray for death

then I look at a recent photograph

and I am reminded I owe you, if not myself

one more day, one more breath.

Deanna Lynd #Y24235 C1112 Lower

Homestead Correctional Institution

19000 SW 377th St. Suite #200

Florida City, FL 33034-6400

----------------------------------------

Women and Prison: A Site for Resistance

is a project of Beyondmedia Education.

Beyondmedia Education
4001 N. Ravenswood #204 C
Chicago, IL 60613
USA
tel: 773-857-7300
fax: 773-857-7301
info@womenandprison.org
www.beyondmedia.org

Feeding Mothers to the Machine...

Via Lois Ahrens at the Real Cost of Prisons Blog. Very troubling article, though nothing new. I don't understand how we can just rip people out of their families and lives and imprison them for years - some until they die - to what good end? I don't think judges often realize how important some of these "criminals" are to their families. Some community-based support for the whole family to remain together, for moms to make amends by finally being there, seems more in order - and you have to make more effort to keep "repeat offenders" in the community - it takes more than one try for most people to kick a habit.

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Mothers among the fastest growing prison population
by Cat Mayin Koo
March 11, 2010

She squared her posture and with a piercing, straight-ahead look, the 49-year-old grandmother of six said, “Crack. I was ad­dicted to crack for over 20 years.”

Darlene Horton, now an advocate at Chicago Legal Advocacy for Incarcerated Mothers, paid the price for her addiction. The Peoria native went to prison twice, the first for most of a year in 1997 and the second for two and a half years less than a decade later.

Both were nonviolent offenses that left her four children without a parent.

Horton’s tale is emblematic of one of the fastest growing prison populations in the state and county: mothers.

Between 1990 and 2005, the number of women in Illinois prisons quadrupled, according to the state Department of Corrections.

At both the state and county level, about 80 percent of women are convicted of nonviolent crimes and around 80 percent of them are single mothers, according to the Illinois Department of Corrections and the Cook County Sheriff's office.

A main reason for this dramatic upswing is most of these crimes – up to 80 percent - are drug related, said Gail Smith, executive director of the advocacy group.

"Sentencing has gotten much, much harsher on drugs since the ‘war on drugs’ began in the 1980s," Smith said.

Changed laws impacted more women, poor and African-Americans, said Patricia O’Brien, a social work researcher at the University of Illinois at Chicago who studies incarcerated mothers.

Penalties for crack cocaine, found more often in poor black neighborhoods, are 10 times more severe than penalties for powder cocaine, which is more expensive and found more in affluent white communities.

“It did next to nothing to the drug king pins, but it destroyed many, many lives,” Smith said.

Stacking trauma

Back in the downtown office, Horton unravelled her personal history of abuse, incest and rape.

Horton began using drugs to “start looking for love and the feeling of not feeling,” she said.

In Cook County, eight of 10 female offenders have been physically or sexually abused and more than three-quarters of them are addicted to drugs.

O’Brien found the link between abuse and addiction common in her research.

“Women tend to internalize their pain and that’s where the drug use and the alcohol come to play – self-medication,” O’Brien said.

Smith described imprisonment as adding to this pain.

“Most women who come out of prison have been abused, so you’re putting trauma on trauma,” Smith said

O’Brien’s research shows that trauma is one of the pathways that lead women to crime. Others include early exposure to crime and the absence of a parent.

Missing moms

Horton’s children never came to visit her when she was in prison. They were hours away and didn’t have the money or means to get to the Decatur Correctional Center.

Phone calls were a rare luxury. The only contact with her children Horton had was when her oldest daughter, Nicole, who was 17 at the time of Horton’s first incarceration, would write.

One letter stuck out to Horton.

“I wasn’t allowed an emergency phone call when my son got shot in the head,” Horton said.

Horton found out about the incident in a letter and was threatened with more severe punishment when she kept asking for the call.

Her incarceration devastated her children and the effects still linger, Horton said. Jeffrey and Randy, her sons were both imprisoned as young men.

“My oldest daughter, she stressed to me on many occasions that she hated me,” Horton said. Rebuilding that relationship was a slow process, Horton said.

Smith agreed that incarceration tears a family apart.

“Any time you’ve had a separation,” Smith said, “the mom and kids need to overcome the trauma of the separation and the mistrust and anger and everything that ensued from that arrest.”

Treatment

In Illinois, imprisoned mothers get little or no contact visits with their children, O’Brien said.

Yes, there are programs geared specifically for mothers, such as the 15-bed MOM’s program offered to pregnant or postpartum offenders through the county’s Women’s Justice Services.The off-site program rewards good behavior for non-violent offenders and allows women to serve a portion of their sentences with their children.

But these programs are available to a scanty few of the women who need them. Most women who give birth in prison usually have less than two days with their child, O’Brien said.

“As the population increased, money for programs decreased,” O’Brien said.

Drug treatment is another area that lacks adequate resources.

Roughly 80 percent of women in state prisons need substance abuse treatment, but only 16 percent will ever receive it, according to data from the Illinois Department of Corrections.

“People don’t understand that addiction keeps going even though you’re locked up,” Horton said, “and the next time you decide to get high, it takes off full speed, like you never quit.”

Within a year, 39 percent of released women will re-offend and within three years, 58 percent of women will re-offend, according to a study by the National Institute of Justice.

Part of the reason why incarceration is ineffective at preventing second offenses is because of the way women are put through the system, Smith said.

“Corrections tend to be based on a male model,” Smith said. “The assumption is that you are dealing with someone who is incarcerated for a violent offense.”

Better options might be what Smith calls gender-specific, trauma-informed treatment that would take into account abuse and drug dependency.

The Women’s Treatment Center offers such treatment, allowing women convicted of nonviolent drug offenses to receive dependency treatment and complete their sentences with their children.

Out of the 45 participants who completed the program over the last three years, none have been reincarcerated. State recidivism rates for women hover above 45 percent.

“Until we understand that this is more a public health problem than a criminal issue, we’re going to continue to have people recidivate,” Smith said.

“We know we’re hurting families and we’re failing to address something that prevents futures crimes and in the next generation,” she said.

Side Bar: and URLs for Graphs on Women and Incarceration: http://news.medill.northwestern.edu/chicago/news.aspx?id=161609

'War on drugs'

The modern “war on drugs” that began in the 1980s marked a metamorphosis in the way America policed and punished.

A slew of drug laws were altered to have heavier penalties.

One of the effects of this is drug offenders in the nation’s prisons skyrocketed by almost 1,100 percent from around 41,000 in 1980 to 490,000 in 2003, while national violent crime rates plummeted, according to the Bureau of Justice Statistics.

In Chicago, drug arrests in 1980 made up only 5 percent of total arrests. By 2003 they made up 28 percent of all arrests, according to a report by the Sentencing Project, a criminal justice nonprofit.

Girls and justice

Girls make up the fastest growing population of juvenile delinquents, according to the U.S. Justice Department.

National trends show that crime is dropping, but in Illinois in 2006, there were 26 percent more female juveniles incarcerated than in 1996, according to the state Department of Corrections.

“Changes in enforcement mean that girls are being put away more,” said Meda Chesney-Lind, a researcher at the University of Hawaii-Manoa who studies girls in gangs.

Even if crimes that girls commit tend to be less violent than those of boys, sentencing has gotten more severe, Chesney-Lind said.

“If a girl runs away and she comes back home, her family could call her in on burglary,” she said.

Most girls that get in trouble have a history of trauma or abuse, according to the National Council on Crime and Delinquency. Experts like Chesney-Lind say that girls in juvenile facilities need trauma-informed treatment that consider histories of abuse.

http://news.medill.northwestern.edu/chicago/news.aspx?id=161609

Tenacious: Call for Art, Poetry, Prose by Women in Prison

Below is the call for submissions to Tenacious , an awesome zine of art and written work by women in prison. The most recent copy (#19) has the story of Marcia Powell's death in it, as told by another prisoner from her yard. Please, friends and family, let the women inside know that we want and need to hear from them - Tenacious is a great way to be heard, and is well worth listening to.  

This next issue coming up will be for Mother's Day. Every woman inside is a mom or a daughter; those relationships are hardly untouched by incarceration. They may have already put great stuff into writing in their letters home - see if there's something you think they should develop or submit as is. The absence of a woman’s mother or child can be as powerful as the presence of one – everyone’s story is valued, whatever their perspective.


Many women use pseudonyms to avoid harassment from prison officials if they have anything critical or controversial to say; they should use discretion if they have any concerns about retaliation, because no one can assure their safety. Vikki Law, who gathers the material and edits the zine, seems to exercise pretty good judgment about that stuff, too.

Some incarcerated women who started by publishing in zines and newsletters have become more widely known and published since then – never having set out to “be” writers or artists or poets in the first place: their mode of expression was formed, in part, by their incarceration as a means of resistance. Marilyn Buck, a U.S. political prisoner and poet, is one who comes to mind who has written about that. Here's the Freedom Archives' link to audio clips from Marilyn's Wild Poppies collection, a tribute CD on which her poetry is read by former political prisoners from around the world. (Browse Freedom Archives sometime - there's great liberation movement stuff there).


Tenacious sells for $2-3 a copy; I think that supports publication and mailing it free to women in prison. Vikki is up on what’s going in here, and offered it as an awareness-raiser and a means to raise our own funds for one woman’s resistance in particular. She sent us electronic copies of numbers 18 (out of stock on the publisher's website right now) and 19 (just out and not on the website yet). I'll be printing up copies and hanging out with all my other abolitionist literature on ASU-Tempe's Hayden Lawn during most lunch hours the first two weeks of the semester (classes begin January 19 - I may hit the campus the previous day, if there are any MLK Day activities going on there.) 

This is me, by the way, if you're looking for me. Arpaio's posse already has my mug shot from Copwatch, so there's no harm putting this out there. Peace.



I'm also trying to stock up on copies of Vikki's book, "Resistance Behind Bars", so folks can browse and nab one from me pretty easily if they want. If the College Anarchists end up tabling around the fountain by the Memorial Union, I'll try to convince them to let me share some of their space there instead. They're an awesome group of people - very thoughtful and politically astute. And anarchists on the whole are most prisoners' best friends.


I have an earnest agenda behind all this, other than my own compa's liberty. We need immediate and sustained attention on the resistance of women at Perryville prison, for their own well-being. Today. We also need to look in on the women in our county jails – not just Arpaio’s. That means creating a less shameful environment that’s inclusive of prisoners’ and their families' voices, getting community members and groups doing more outreach to incarcerated women and their children (the Girl Scouts are even on top of it, folks - no good reason everyone else isn't), and alerting our local and national media that we want to know what’s going on in there. Who are we locking up in Arizona, anyway? Why so many women all of a sudden? At what costs – economic and social? Under what conditions? What happens to their kids?


We need more people to be able to articulate the challenges faced by women in prison, and to recognize and support their resistance to oppression, abuse, and neglect. We try to render them invisible in society, but women in prison have both voice and power. We need to pay attention to actions like those described below by Renee, and the three women who set their mattresses on fire last June. What happened to them? Does anyone know?


That doesn’t mean we should just be looking for hunger strikes and riots among women, though – grievances and lawsuits have been very effective tools of change for women in prison, and need more visibility; some things can be expedited with more public pressure - like Marcia's Law. Charisse Schumate is an example of a woman who resisted by using the legal system and community organizing; she and her fellow prisoners made a difference. That's a story worth printing up and sending to women inside, too.



Women like Renee and those in Tenacious are resisting, too, simply by telling their stories. Even if they aren't exposing state secrets, they are countering the myths and lies out there about them. hey are resisting the dehumanization of criminalization and incarceration. They are bringing home what it means to be a woman in prison in America. The act of making things public, making them visible, takes a great deal of courage - we must read them, respond to what they're saying, and keep asking for more.


This is pretty critical material for Arizonans to grasp right now, so I’m going to do whatever I can to get it into the hands of as many people who might care as possible – from anarchists and ASU students to hospice care providers and groups representing trauma and rape survivors. Listen to these women, and if you have any kind of access help them get their stories out. They need us all to stop and pay attention.

Here's the call for submissions to Tenacious:

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Call for submissions

Tenacious is looking for articles, poetry and art form women in prison. We strongly believe that everyone has a story to tell, something to share and are in need of someone who will listen and offer some kind of support and/or understanding. It is important to us that women (both in and out of prison) find the  power of their voice. We encourage women to share with us and others in the hopes of educating those in society and empowering other women to take a stand for their rights and the rights of others. Use the power of your voice in a positive way—to educate.

Subjects we are looking for include:

ü      Prison programs (how they do or don’t work)

ü      Mothers educating their children while on the inside

ü      Holding prison officials accountable for their actions or inactions

ü      Observations and applications on prison life

ü      Women prisoners uniting to make a difference

ü      Informing society about prison issues

ü      Sexual discrimination or sexual preference discrimination in your prison

ü      Medical breakthroughs or neglect

ü      HIV, Hep C and other diseases common in prison

ü      Helping your fellow prisoners

ü      Literacy and education

ü      Your job (or lack of a job)

AS YOU CAN SEE BY THE COVER, WE ESPECIALLY NEED ART!!!  Art should be reproducible in black-and-white.

We do not publish individual cases, charges or court experiences. We do not publish religious materials. We also cannot act as liaisons between those in different facilities.

Send submissions to:

V. Law, PO Box 20388,

New York, NY 10009

Tenacious is free to women in prison.

Men in prison: please send 2 stamps to cover the cost of postage.

Those not in prison: your $2 will support sending free issues to incarcerated women across the United States.

The next issue will be a Mother’s Day themed issue, acknowledging that over 80% of women in prison are mothers.

Deadline: April 1, 2010

Christ on Crime: The Power of Being Soft. And No Early Release.

Here's to Truth, Peace and Justice - may all prevail in the New Year.

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I fell asleep Christmas Eve wishing I'd organized some anarchists to go caroling out at Perryville prison this week; just something to let them know they aren't alone out there. The mothers out there in particular have been on my mind lately, as have their heartbroken parents and children. Because of the tracking mechanisms on my blogs I can tap into what people are Googling for, which - as the holidays have approached - has with increasing urgency been "early prisoner release." I had all sorts of stuff up from other states, but all they kept coming up with from me on Arizona was some sidewalk chalking, pleading with legislators, and quite a bit of after-the-fact chastising of Director Ryan.

When I woke up Christmas morning they were still on my mind: all those families that had been holding their breath as states across the country began early release programs for low-risk prisoners, only to have our legislature and governor, in the end, release non-citizens so they can be deported. Our state and prisoners' families are being crushed by the cost of their incarceration - we're even taking money from education and children's health care in order to keep filling up the prisons - and that's the most creative solution anyone could come up with? Deporting a few hundred immigrants that they gave Sheriff Joe and Andrew Thomas all sorts of money to chase down and prosecute for smuggling themselves?

Cowards. They won't even release the dying. Even we (prisoners and advocates) would allow that not every ADC officer is so malicious or callous that they would be complicit in Marcia's death just because 16 on one shift were (that must be worse than the criminality of most people requesting compassionate releases). The Department of Corrections seems to think that was an isolated incident that shouldn't reflect on the rest of the gang. In light of that, our legislators should at least grant that not every dying prisoner is a Maurice Clemmons or Baseline Killer just waiting for their final spree. Nor are they molesters-in-waiting, like the latest Arizona parolee disaster, apparently. I wonder how much of the monster in him was made by prison. Most of the terminally ill - the healthy, for that matter, as well - really just want to make amends and die in peace. You never hear about them. They should not be punished for his crimes.

But they probably will be. We all will. Since they'd sooner spend our grandchildren's inheritance to make even low-risk prisoners die on mandatory minimums than take the risk of sending them home in a wheelchair to their families, why would I think our elected officials would have the courage to support an early release program for people who aren't even dying? It has nothing to do with statistics or real crime or even economics, since dying prisoners can cost the state the most. It's all about covering their own seats - which are coming up for re-election. Everyone wants to be "tough on crime,"  which always translates into criminalizing and incarcerating more of the poor and does nothing meaningful to address the roots of crime. That's not tough - that's just thick-headed. It's the smart-on-crime people we need to be electing here, not the ones exploiting fear at the expense of future victims...we need to stop this here.

I think we need to hammer the AG and gubernatorial candidates about compassionate release this year - and it should be coming from the cancer survivor and hospice community, too, not just the families and advocates of prisoners. Victims' rights advocates should get on board, too, if they consider how many victims are criminalized and how many criminals are victimized by the system we call justice in this state. Every prisoner dying inside who should be eligible for compassionate release is a story that needs to be told - otherwise the only story that speaks for them is the one about Clemmons - or Ladwig - and that one will be retold every election year unless we drown it out with the truth: there is more than one narrative on crime and punishment - there are better ways to prevent evil than perpetrating it.

Anyway, having failed to do anything meaningful for the state's prisoners for Christmas, I turned again to the symbolic, and decided to deliver a big Christmas card and some flowers to the women at Perryville yesterday. That place is huge. According to one of the officers, it's getting bigger: those are the great plans our legislature has made for Arizona's future - more women in prison. I drove around for awhile trying to figure out who and where to deliver it to - finally decided to take a picture of it by the prison sign, on the outside chance that no one would let me deliver to anyone there at all.

I was right - I couldn't even leave it there if I was leaving it for the warden, much less for the prisoners - I'd have to come back during regular business hours. Their supervisor even came out to see what this thing with the Friends of Marcia Powell was all about. He took down my name and gave me the phone number of someone I could call next week who would direct me to the right person to give the card to. I thought "warden" should be designation enough to get it to the person who would decide what to do with it, if I wrote it on the card instead of "prisoners". But it wasn't. What was I thinking?

I don't know how many people have tried to pull off a Christmas Day surprise like that, but "the next business day" just doesn't work. I took my card and got back into my car, stopping by my friend's place on my way home to give her the bouquet. She was out at Perryville for a couple of years; she appreciated what I tried to do.

The card, by the way, was a great big copy of the letter that the Sex Workers' Outreach Project had written to Director Ryan about improving protections for prisoner rights, among other things. A bunch of us signed it at the demonstration, and I figured that since he already got his copy (and apparently ignored it) we should give one to the prisoners so they knew they had some support out here.

I was hoping to get it onto Lumley - the maximum security unit where Marcia was last at, where the women who set their mattresses on fire were from, and where the officer worked who suicided last June. I guess I'm just lucky I got in and out of the front lobby myself without provoking anyone, though. I should probably apologize to the officers on duty last night for showing up and being a distraction. I mean, it seemed like they would be posted at the front door specifically to deal with the public - which includes me - so I didn't think it would be problematic to ask them if there was someone I could leave the card and flowers with. But I could have just taken a couple of photos outside and gone without disturbing them, so, my apologies, Lt. Farr and crew.  I really wasn't there just to play with you. I hoped someone would take our card (though I admit I suspected that solidarity and encouragement from the outside might be considered contraband, even on Christmas). I guess it's probably a good thing I didn't show up singing with a bunch of anarchists instead.

Anyway, families and friends will just have to spread the word among the prisoners that Perryville had a Christmas visitor bringing tidings of goodwill and human rights, but they wouldn't let her in. You can print up the letter to Ryan from the free marcia powell archives here, though, and mail it in. Here is the report of the actual demonstration, with photos, in case you missed it. You could also print up the photo I took of the card, here:

Dear Director Ryan: Protect Human Rights.

(Since you insist on keeping your prisoners, please keep them safe.)

Since this post will probably sit here for a couple of days at the top of the page now as my holiday message, I don't want to close it on an angry or cynical note. So, I'll turn my attention to the ADC staff I don't speak much of. Just about every story I've heard from Perryville  - even Marcia's - has with it the name of an officer or staff member who was the exception to the rule of mocking, ridiculing, ignoring women, and "waiting them out" until they stopped resisting or finally died. The good guys know who they are, as do all the prisoners and their families. Everyone else does, too, and I imagine some of you take a hit for being too soft sometimes. I would hope you also get promoted (though we do aim to put you out of that particular line of business). Even little things - like a smile - expose the Light in you. We need that light to see through all this - in that way, soft has more power than a lot of people give it credit for. Gentle can be more strong than tough.

In fact, for the more resilient prisoners your simple daily acts of grace and kindness can do more good than all the cruelty that goes on there can do them harm.  For the respect, encouragement, insight, hope, and humanity you have shared with the most disparaged among us - whatever your position or reason for working there may be - thank you. Your presence may well have saved a loved one from another endless day of their own despair, or even from suicide. I'm sorry there clearly aren't enough of you, though. The damaged souls and successful suicides who roll out of prison are evidence of that.

Some of you have taken a hit by placing yourselves between our loved ones and violence - both state and interpersonal. You aren't afraid to speak of things like human rights, and you treat imprisoned women with basic dignity regardless of what kind of deviance they've been convicted of. You may not call it by the name I do, but you recognize the monster that feeds your family for what it is, and as law-and-order as you may be, you - like me - long for the day it outlives its apparent need. You may even be the first to help slay it then.

Those of you I speak of here are real public servants, far more committed to justice than the people who pull it out for campaigns, lynch a few bad guys, and ride fear into office so they can make new laws to better suit themselves - all the while gutting your unions with parallel (not competitive) privatization, and reducing your relative incomes and benefits to subsistence levels so you can't rise up against them once everyone finally catches on. I'm shocked at how many law enforcement unions have endorsed Pearce for that reason - he's all about busting the unions - he just thinks he doesn't have to worry about cops because they've been co-opted by his pandering and posturing. I hope you all end up proving him wrong.

It's odd that politicians so often invoke biblical references in the discourse about law and order: whatever one may think about Christ, his most beloved were the convicted and condemned, and his version of justice is the new and revised one. He embraced robbers and prostitutes and thieves irrelevant of their crimes: he recognized that the far greater danger was the injustice doled out to the powerless by the entitled than that posed by the few criminals who rose from the masses in resistance to civil society. It was the moneylenders' tables he upended, after all - he wasn't off chasing immigrants. Boy, would he have a few things to say about that today. Actually, I'm sure he already said them. Considering how many people in this state consider themselves Christians,  I don't understand why we have so many prisons. I guess people call themselves Christians for different reasons. Claiming such a faith seems to have a political advantage, even if there's no evidence one really lives it.

Christ was incorrigible - a classic repeat offender, all the more "dangerous" to the state because he acted out of a politic of liberation, not self-interest or greed (thus he could not be tortured or bribed into submission). He may not be executed today, but he would be locked down tighter than a Black Panther, in total isolation so as not to spread his message to other people yearning for freedom. We'd bury him alive and alone - for sixty or seventy years if need be - in a cell that serves much like a tomb. That's what we do to our political prisoners in America. Think about it: if he was in for crimes of self-interest he'd be out in half the time. What does that say about us?

Anyway, those of you who use your power to truly help rather than hurt prisoners have paid it forward, and many people down the road will have your backs. You have done more than just your prisoners a service - the community benefits as well if they come out more intact than shattered. I hope you become the model for ADC - for as long as the beast is around - instead of the exception you appear to be. To you and your families I sincerely wish a safe and happy holiday season, a sentiment shared, I suspect, by many.