Yes, I know, it's been far too long.

You know, it's interesting. I think that people "like us" you know what I mean by that if you're reading this...we have the best intentions about things like social justice and serving the poor and advocacy, etc. But sometimes things like an engagement and a wedding and a crazy job come into play and pretty much everything else gets put on hold. Plus I was really annoyed with those SPAM "comments." I'd get all excited that someone had something to say and then it's like "Earn your college degree at DeVry!" Grrrrrr!!!

But for all intents and purposes, I'm back on track. We still have the upcoming honeymoon to contend with, but I quit working for that woman who was ruining my life and I'm in a much better place mentally. I may soon have the opportunity to be part of a big project from the ground level. We have a very important meeting in a couple of weeks that will largely determine my fate in some ways. More on that if anything substantial transpires.

Anyway, back to why you're here.

I was reading this fiction book. I actualy gave it to Bethany, and a smal amount of the book was dedicated to describing this fictional character's experience in prison. But it was the kind of description where you could tell the author had done her homework about how prisons work.

I've been inside a hard core prison. I was 18 and I went to Reicher's Island, where NYC's murderers and rapists go to serve time. I went with a pastor and three other people to a ministry church service, where men who were interested in faith and the bible would come to meet and pray and read and worship together. The thing that struck me at that time was how the men seemed rather content and not at all unhappy. I imagine part of this had to do with the fact that only well behaved inmates who were pursuing faith in God were allowed to attend. After that experience, I kind of figured that prison must not be that bad. But I've heard some pretty bad things since then and read some accounts and I've met people who have spent years in prison.

I think that the simple fact that most people who go to jail, end up going back again, is the most important piece of information in considering whether our criminal justice system is effective or not.

One question to ask in considering this issue is: Are we trying to provide a situation where people who commit crimes will come out of the experience changed and equipped to avoid the temptation to steal, engage in violence, etc. OR...are we a society that just seeks to punish. If we just want to punish, from what little I know, we are doing a fine job. But what is the point of simply punishing? If the end result is a continued compulsion to re-offend, then the only thing our system is doing is giving the offender a negative experience.

If you could, with proof, show parents that a spanking would absolutely never ever in any situation deter their child from disobedience (which some studies support) and that the spanking only delivered pain to their child, caused them to distrust the parent and made them fearful and secretive, would most parents continue to spank? I don't know the answer to this question, but I would say that if the parent did continue to spank, it would be only to satiate their own anger at the disobedience. Perhaps this is why we send people to prisons and our prisons operate in the way that they do.

Here is an essay I thought was interesting.

My Alarming Tour Thru
Camp Hill Prison
The Lost Men and Boys Of
Pennsylvania
BY: Sandra Feigley,
Publisher

Along with other members of the venerable Pennsylvania Prison Society (an organizational strongly recommend and endorsed), I took a tour of one of Pennsylvania's most notorious prisons, the State Correctional Institution at Camp Hill. It's in Central Pennsylvania, across the river from Harrisburg, the state capital. The prison is widely known as Camp Hell.
I came away from my experience with a haunting sense of how badly civilized people have failed to deal with imprisonment. I will never forget the look of the men's eyes.

The day I visited was one of those warm, hopeful day which introduce autumn. It was a distressing contrast to the conditions I witnessed behind the banks of concertina wire.

The most distressing part of the tour was my visit to the SMU, or "Special Management Unit," a dirty wall of dark cells. When the Department of Corrections ("DOC") fails, it sends the man to the SMU for months or years of torment. A man can be required to endure ten, even twenty years in this status.

The SMU is a quick walk through the prison infirmary, through a maze of gates and fences into an isolated building. Three guards with nothing to do, watched the totally locked down block from inside a protective glassed-in bubble. A member of the so-called treatment staff conducted us through the block. We were told of the various phases of "treatment" and the "program" the prisoners are suppose to use to "earn" their way out of the unit. Of course, all of this was from the staff. One should always weigh what she's told by the prison staff. Honesty is not one of their virtues.

Construction changes were being made to the doors, so just one back of cells were being used at the current time. We walked the tier to see into the cells, to see the mem clutching the door to see us. Our small group were the only persons on the block -- it is devoid of human contact. The men cannot see the other men who are also locked in. They are alone, alone for many hours, to just sit and waste away and go mad with the isolation. The men were of all ages and some were white, others black and others hispanic. Cruelty seemed to hold no prejudices. I am sure many were quite ill, some were raving.

The prisoners in the SMU were/are considered the DOC's "we don't know what to do with them" men. I was surprised to learn that "antisocial" was the term ascribed to most of these prisoners. Surely, the staff realizes that being "antisocial" may be a reason for crime, but, indeed, being in one of these cells for even a few days would twist any person into being antisocial. We learned that at least one man is facing 10 years under these conditions.

We were walked around the cellblock. The cells were dark, the men almost invisible. Many of the men cried out for attention, voicing a wide verity of complaints. Each one wanted to be noticed, to'have someone, anyone, listen to him, to find someone who would help, someone to understand. I felt so helpless, close to tears ... How can we, a supposedly civilized people, do this to others. How can we treat them so badly while expecting them to treat us well?

When I asked the "white-shirt" the lieutenant) about the complaints, he explained them away as "misbehavior," or "routine pattern of behavior." Working in a job such as this seems to breed insensitivity. There is no regular help for those in need of psychological care. Indeed, one man who pounded on his cell window in a desperate effort to'get the attention of those outside, was punished by having the window covered over so that he got no sunlight or view of anything but his cell; treatment certain to drive a person insane

My heart hurt as I walked away and my tears came to my eyes. These men were left to languish and the system pretends to wonder why they "act-out." There is nothing to stimulate their minds or to motivate them to improve themselves. There is only reaction to torment. It's certainly true that we treat animals better than we treat many prisoners, yet every one of these men treated our tour with respect. The treatment makes the inmates far worse. Most alarming of all, in many cases, these men will "max-out" their sentences from the SMU. They will be released onto society after having endured years of the most cruel tormenting.

Before going into the SMU, we'd toured the RHU or "Restrictive Housing Unit," the prison hole. This is the prison within the prison where men are punished for offenses such as "disobeying" orders or "disrespecting" a guard. Here, as in the SMU, the men were housed singly. In the rest of the prison, two prisoners shared each of the little cells. There were two tiers of cells and my first impression was how it was such a stark contrast to the Indian summer day that I'd enjoyed outside. As I entered, I saw a sign saying that we would be video-taped and audio-taped. The DOC wants to carefully censor what the public learns about the conduct of the prisons. A row of open windows did little to cool down the cellblock which must have been close to 90 degrees. Hot air was being pumped out of the radiators. A white-shirt complained how the guards had to open the windows during the day and close them at night. This task would take perhaps 10 minutes. Personally, I wondered what we pay them for if not to do a little work.

The rule in the RHU as in much of the SMU is that the men receive only an hour of recreation five days a week. Their exercise is in dehumanizing "dog-cages." They are allowed only an hour a month to visit their loved ones and get no "privileges."

While we were there, men were being shaved. A guard went around with a battery operated shaver. He used the same shaver on each of the men who wanted to be shaved.

Some of the cells had Plexiglas bolted over the cell bars further isolating disfavored prisoners. The staff said that the Plexiglas was because that particular man threw things out of his cell. I witnessed none of this. I only realized that the men's air was greatly restricted in cells where the ventilation was already poor.

Most of the men looked out at us to say hello or voice complaints. Two men were verbally abusing one another, causing a terrific racket. One had supposedly snitched on the other. I wondered why the guards had decided to bait them by celling them side by side.

Before leaving this unit, we asked to see the showers. There have been many complaints about the showering procedure. The men are taken in handcuffs to the individual showers which look like a modified cell. After being locked in, the man will put his hands through a hole in the door and the handcuffs will be removed. The showers last 5 to 10 minutes and there is no control the the water temperature, so the first men obviously get hot water and the last will get cold.

We also toured a unit where men are prepared to suffer the indignity and abuse of Pennsylvania's so-called "boot camp," Quehanna. Our escorts fed us the established party line that the program is a rousing success. Of course, the truth is that by enduring the abuse, younger prisoners (18 to 35) hope to obtain early release from prison. They will leave having learned how to be the most vicious of persons; ideal gang and mob members.

The boot camp is supposedly military style "training." The men are harangued, badgered and drilled with marching and similar adolescent nonsense. The whole operation made me feel uncomfortable. I wondered if training men to be a little more gentle might not be a better aim.

The staff claimed that there's a long waiting list for the program and its early release, but the dropout rate is 30%. Cells in the boot camp section are segregated from the general prison population partly because the other prisoners make fun of the "cadets." The inmates are allowed no possessions on their little tables except religious materials. A picture of a family member must be stored in a small box under the bed.

The campus of the prison was different that I had anticipated. I saw very few prisoners outside. The many buildings were widely separated with numerous areas of grass and innumerable walkways. There were fences everywhere dicing the compound into tiny areas where the timid guards wouldn't feel frightened by too many prisoners at once. There are many "newer" buildings constructed at very great expense since the riot in 1989.

The tour left me with haunting images of destroyed lives. I learned that some guards feel that they are making a change and take pride in their employment. I learned also about pompous men who feel it's too burdensome to afford the least comfort to prisoners. Worst of all, I learned about inmates who are unable to improve their lives; man's inhumanity to man.