Becoming State Property

If you spend any time around someone who has been in prison for a good stretch of time, you'll certainly hear about the term "institutionalized".  But, when I try to verbalize to others what this means, I seem to come up short of a perfect explanation.  Granted, I am not speaking from my own experience, since I've never been to prison, but after exchanging numerous phone calls, about 1,500 letters, and a good number of visits with KC, I do believe I am at least qualified to speak on an outsiders perspective of the institutionalization of KC.  So, what most of us "law abiding citizens" think happens when an inmate goes into prison is that they arrive on a bus, they get strip searched, they get handed their new "uniform" and they go play basketball and poker for however long they are to reside in the cozy environment that is the DOC.  At least that's what I thought.  And perhaps a lucky few would describe that as their prison experience.  But many I'm sure would disagree, and certainly KC would.  KC got out of prison in one state, at the age of 25.  He was originally in prison for 4 years for stealing cars.  He decided after being out of prison for two days to steal a car, with his new "girlfriend" and go on a cross country armed robbery spree.  Of course, he got caught.  But he did get half way across the country.  Hence, picking up armed robbery charges in several states.  So, other than that 3 weeks he was out, since the age of 20 he has spent 19 years in prison...so far.  Once he went into the new state DOC he was caught in, the process of becoming institutionalized began.  He did everything wrong when he got there.  He didn't know how to play the high stakes game of prison politics, and you could say he went all in on the wrong hand.  He did horrible things, and pissed off the wrong people.  It took him about two years to totally undo any chance he had at a "normal" prison experience.  So begins his lengthy stay in solitary.  KC started thinking less and less about what was going on outside his concrete walls topped with razor wire.  Life outside his prison walls became less interesting, and less real.  Things that once mattered in "the free world" lost meaning and value.  Holidays began to have no meaning.  Just another day slipping away.  His only focus was on the tiny four walls that surrounded him.  Desire to obtain the best physique became an obsession.  He began closing himself off to everyone outside of his cell, except his Mom and Dad.  KC finally became institutionalized when he began to accept the fact that the rules and laws of prison are nothing like that of the "free world".  The laws you follow in prison are either the laws of the inmates or the laws of the DOC, and they are polar opposites.  There is no C) All of the Above.  There's no riding the fence.  KC made his choice knowing that this would be how he is defined in prison and seen by the other inmates.  Knowing that his choice, regardless of which side he takes, he will have automatic enemies.  It is irrelevant which side an inmate "picks" in the context of describing the "institutionalization of a man".  But it does, to some extent seal his fate.  There's no "changing teams".  Then came the point that KC learned to accept that no one was looking out for him.  Not the prison Administration and not other inmates (he chose not to affiliate with a gang).  This meant for KC that everyone was a potential threat to him, as he perceived the situation.  Let me give you an example.  Because KC decided not to affiliate with a gang that was "courting him", he made enemies.  Soon after his food started coming in not with the regular inmate food trays (that is slipped into their cell through a trap door), but rather with the "special diet" trays.  He was not on a special diet.  He began getting sick.  Very sick.  Over the course of about a month, he became shockingly thin because he realized whatever the gang was making sure was put on his food tray, it was clearly something designed to poison him.  So, after a couple of weeks of bad stomach pain that was getting worse, rectal bleeding and returning fever, he finally quit eating his meals.  Of course he attempted to be seen by the doctor, but they maintained it was likely a cold or the flu.  He asked the Chaplain to intervene (since many diets that differ from the standard diet are due to religious reasons, he would be able to assist in this matter) and make sure he is served the standard inmate diet, not a special diet.  The people responsible can't dictate which regular food trays go to what inmate, so the only way to poison an inmate through his food tray is do it with a special diet tray that will be given specifically to that inmate.  Well, the Chaplain did attempt to intervene, and was successful for a few days.  But then, KC started receiving the special diet trays again.  As luck would have it, right about then, the kitchen jobs were outsourced to the sex offenders who were housed in a different location.  Therefore, no food tampering was possible.  But, the point of that story is that when you learn to accept this is your fate, this is how your going to go out, despite there being numerous people around you who SHOULD be able to help, you've become institutionalized.  When you come to terms, and accept the fact that you are a second rate citizen who is not worthy of adequate health care, a proper diet, and prompt attention in an emergency, you've become institutionalized.  Once KC finally realized that every decision about him would be made for him, by an agency that did not have his best interest in mind, he was completely institutionalized.  He became, and to this day, remains a piece of state property.

His Story...

I thought I'd share a little bit more about "his story".  You see, KC isn't exactly your "normal" inmate.  He's been labeled by the prison system he was in as "the worst of the worst" and spent a decade in solitary confinement.  Yes, that's right.  A decade.  As I said earlier in this blog, his worst crimes were not committed out here in the free world, but rather behind prison walls.  His story is long, but the bottom line is this.  When he went into the DOC in the state he was in, he didn't know how to maneuver the "politics of prison".  And for those people who don't have to be close enough to the prison system to know that prison politics is very real, and it's high stakes, to say the least.  He was a kid when he went in, and he was on a self destructive path.  A recipe for disaster.  He engaged in numerous fights, one of his assaults was enough to yield an additional three year sentence.  Another one of his actions resulted in an additional ten year prison sentence.  That crime resulted in someone losing their life.  While KC did not murder an inmate, he did have a part in that inmate losing his life.  That crime sealed his fate with the DOC.  This was the main reason the DOC vowed never to let him into a general population setting again.  And while my heart is saddened, beyond words, for the loss of that man's life, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about his family, I do see the distinction that KC was not the main person responsible for that man's death.  KC never laid a hand on the inmate.  He did what he did for selfish reasons.  But to be told by the DOC that no matter what you do from here on out, you'll never get out of solitary is a breach of what the purpose of solitary is.  Solitary confinement is not a weapon of revenge for the Department of Corrections, or I should say, it's not supposed to be.  It's a tool, a resource, to safeguard other inmates and staff from dangerous inmates.  To be given an indeterminate sentence of solitary defies the logic behind it.  It's a tool that should be used sparingly, and for as short of an amount of time as necessary.

That's the short story of how KC landed into solitary.  And once he got to solitary, his heart and mind grew more restless and dark.  He did not get anymore charges, but he tells me of where his mind was at for the first 3 years in solitary.  He had violent dreams of killing people, and of wanting to be killed.  Until one night.  He tells me of one night that he dropped to his knees and prayed to God to end his life, end his suffering, or to restore his soul.  He felt he had no soul.  He said over the next few weeks, he continued to pray, and ask only that of God.  He said that slowly, but noticeably, his attitude started to change.  He was filled with complete rage before.  And the rage seemed to subside a little with each passing day, until he noticed he was much more at peace after a few weeks, and then months.  He started to acknowledge the things he had in his life, and feeling gratitude for them.  He continued on that path and to this day, still is.  He hasn't associated himself with any particular religion or faith, but rather as he puts it "I believe in God, and I talk to him every day.  I tell him what I am thankful for, and I ask him to watch over the people I love and forgive me for the awful things I have done in my life."  He said after several years, he felt like an entirely new man.  He felt worthy of love for the first time in his life.  He said that he felt like a good person.  And truly, if someone is able to look at who he is now, and not prejudge based on his past, then most would see that he is a good person.  I remember when I first saw his story on the prison outreach website.  I immediately went to the DOC web page and looked him up.  The web page shows all of his sentences and crimes, and also all of the disciplinary infractions he has received since being in prison.  He had quite a few infractions for the first 5 years he was in prison.  And then they just stop.  Not one infraction in ten years.  I knew nothing of the prison system when I reached out and started writing to him, but I knew that "meant something".  And indeed, it did.  That was the point in his life that he began reaching out to God, and establishing a relationship with God.  Now, years after his soul searching and relationship with God, his life, soul, heart and mind are truly, and in my/his opinion permanently, transformed. 

The effects of solitary confinement are horrific.  Luckily, KC seems to have been able to hold at bay the many mental disorders associated with long term confinement.  Although he has become a product of his environment in that he is extremely introverted, and wants only myself and his Mom in his life.  I've tried having friends write to him, in hopes that he will develop some more friendships, and attempted to gently encourage him to make friends with people he is in prison with.  He wants nothing to do with any of my suggestions.  He just wants me.  I will always continue to try to have others reach out to him, and him do the same.  Perhaps one day he'll make a new friend.  But until then, I'm just happy that he has been able to keep his sanity, and his faith in God through some of the most trying times.  I have now been down to where he is to visit him four times, about every six months.  We continue to develop an ever strengthening bond.  I sit in front of this man with a joyful heart.  I am happy to be his future wife.  I can only imagine how that would look to an outsider looking in.  What most people see is "the worst of the worst".  What do I see?  A man who's heart turned to stone, and who's soul was almost entirely gone.  I see a man who started his life out way before the start line.  Most of us, including me, are fortunate enough to start life at the starting line.  We're born to good, god fearing, hard working parents, who raise us with discipline and love.  Now his parents seem like truly good people.  But I do know that by the time KC was 12 he was already in trouble with the law.  By the time he was 20 he had his first 5 year prison sentence.  Things went down from there.  So, what I see is a man who had to fight, literally for his life, to get to the start line, that we all take for granted.  I have told him many times that he has accomplished more in his life than I have with mine.  Oh, I'm sure many would disagree with that, to most I look to be successful.  And if material things define success, then under that definition I am successful and he is not.  I am well educated, have a high paying career that I love, own my own home...etc.  But only after getting to know KC do I realize these material things are not what defines a human being.  He is the most successful man that I have ever met because he has restored his heart, soul and mind.  Although if you ask him he would tell you that God had just as much to do with it as he did.  I challenge everyone to truly evaluate what makes a person "good" and "successful". 

This entry just scratches the surface of "his story".  His story has changed considerably in the last month.  He is no longer in solitary confinement.  Due to a complicated sentencing structure he recently sued (and won) for his out of state transfer.  Is it a victory?  Partly, yes.  We got him out of solitary, and the state DOC he was in.  Now he has a chance at a fresh start.  He's at the reception center in a new state awaiting to be classified.  He has been going to meals with other inmates now for several weeks, his first time in a decade and he is enjoying being in a less solitary environment.  This is all good news.  Although eventually he will have to go back to the state he was in.  And part of the reason why I don't consider this a victory is because we didn't accomplish anything with the DOC's mentality on solitary confinement.  He has told me to let that go and "let's move on".  But I can't.  I am very passionate about the overuse of solitary by DOC's in this country.  Because I have had to experience them, with KC first hand.  (As close to first hand without being in prison)  I'll blog more about solitary later, right now I am trying to enjoy the good news of his new start.

My First Visit

A little over two years ago I was off to see my new friend in prison.  When I land at the airport, I pick up my rental car, and drive the hour to the town his prison is in.  I get to the hotel, which was an amazing quasi B&B.  It was late, so I was ready for bed.  I remember sitting on the bed, nervous beyond explanation, thinking "WHAT AM I DOING HERE?".  I got little sleep that night, and got up the next day and prepared for my first visit, not just to a prison, but to a super max prison.  Where the "worst of the worst" are housed.  There was a paperwork glitch and my friend had not been brought to the visitation area.  So I sat, and looked around at the dimly lit room, with all of the loved ones of the incarcerated in the room I was in, and the inmates in their own cages on the other side of the glass window, sporting the most offensive color orange I had ever seen. I decided to duck into the bathroom and give myself a pep talk in the mirror, like something you would see in the movies. Telling myself "I can do this". This is my friend I have been writing to for over 7 months. I walked out of the bathroom and glanced at our assigned "non contact" booth, and I see my friend, with his handcuffs on, behind his back, and they are taking them off. My heart sank. I remember two distinct thoughts...the first was "Why are you handcuffing him! He's not going to do anything!" The next thought was "I feel like I am trapped in an episode of Dateline". I stood there and looked at him, finally sat down, and picked up the phone to talk. I don't remember what the first thing I said to him was, nor what he said to me. The first thing I remember him saying to me was "You look very classy." I was touched by his genuine compliment and told him that orange looked good on him (my attempt at a joke). I looked at his hands, knowing what horrible and violent acts they had committed. I looked deep into his eyes to see if I saw a person responsible for taking the life of another, or a transformed man. His eyes, to this day, after many visits captivate me~as I see sadness and hope in him. Our first three visits flew by. I was his first visitor in over a decade. So, I sat before one of the most violent offenders in the state and I was filled with friendship and love. I knew that this man was going to be a part of my life forever. We talked about many things.  About me, about him, and our lives.  KC is a very serious man, and he used every opportunity to share with me how he felt about me and our friendship.  There were a few times when neither of us spoke, but our eyes locked, and we just looked into each others eyes for what, under most circumstances, would have been an uncomfortable amount of time, but wasn't for us.  It was an amazing feeling, raw, and among the most sincere moments of my life.  I remember, at my last visit thinking I just wanted to hug him, give him some positive human interaction. Aside from "cuffing up" every time he leaves his cell he has not been touched by another person in over a decade.

I visited him three days in a row, and they were all wonderful visits.  The Correctional Officer's give a "5 minute" warning before the visits conclude.  And on the last day of our visits, after the Officer had given his "5 minute" warning, my eyes filled with tears.  I am a law abiding citizen, my worst act is one speeding ticket.  But I found myself thinking "What if I just refuse to leave?"  I didn't want to leave him there.  I never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to take him with me, to get him out of that hell on earth environment he faces daily.  My mind was racing, and multiple thoughts and flashes were popping through my mind.  None of which I can now remember.  I just didn't want to leave him there.  But when it was time to leave, I made myself get up out of the chair and walk away from him.  I looked back at him several times trying to "memorize" his face.  I kept it together until I got out to my car.  When I got into my car I lost it.  I started sobbing, uncontrollably.  I forced myself to put the car into drive, pulled out my directions to the airport, and was rather happy that I had the distraction of being rushed to make the hour drive to the airport, and car rental return in time to make my flight.  I got onto the plane, trying to think about anything but our three visits.  Once I was on the plane, I started to let myself think about what had just happened during my three visits to him.  A few hours later I was home, and returned to several letters from him in my mail box.  I had the next couple of days off work to really think about everything.  It was during this time that I knew that I was in love with this man.

I made a new friend.

I guess I'll start by talking about my fiancee and me.  I met my fiancee three years ago.  I met him through a prison outreach/penpal website.  I still have no idea what drew me to look at the website, but I did.  KC calls it fate.  Perhaps.  But I wrote to him.  He wrote back right away.  The letter captivated me.  Here was a truly broken man.  A man who had once done terrible things.  For the first time in my life, I promised not to judge this man for his past.  That's all he asked of me.  He said "Judge me for what I say and do to you now, not my past.  I'll show you that I am no longer that man that I was.  I'll earn your friendship."  I agreed to those terms.  Our letters continued, and they consisted of two friends getting to know each other on a deeper level.  Slowly, he began confiding in me about all of his crimes.  Including crimes he committed that he was never charged with.  He told me that he wanted just one person in his life that he could confide in, be totally honest with about his past, and not fear being judged.  I was that one person for him.  I soon realized that being that person to him meant I had to see a side of humanity that I didn't even realize existed.  I typically go through life believing "all people are basically good".  But that isn't always the case.  As KC, for about 10 years of his life had a blackness in his heart.  His worst crimes were not committed out here in the "free world" but rather once he went into prison.  I'm just a normal kind of girl, grew up in a middle class family, with parent who had "respectable" jobs.  I never needed for anything, and my youth was full of love.  I put myself through college, got a great job, and my career was off and running.  I am a political enthusiast, and enjoy conversations of the "cerebral" sort.  Due to the line of work I am in, a vast majority of my circle of friends are professionals in business, healthcare and a few lawyers.  So, this entire friendship was unchartered territory for me, to say the least.  In addition to getting to know my new friend KC, I started learning about the DOC he was in.  Getting to know what really goes on in prison is almost as horrific as hearing the stories of what inmates do to get locked up in them.  With each letter, I got to know KC more, and I really began developing true feelings of friendship for him.  So, I suggested that I should come down and see him!  He really didn't want me to at first, because he was in solitary confinement (a discussion I will blog about another time) and therefore our visit would be "non contact".  This meant there would be glass between us, and we would speak to each other through a phone.  Our visits would only be two hours long.  He changed his mind almost immediately and said he wanted me to visit him.  So, I applied for special visits with the Visitation Office at his prison.  And we were granted 3 two hours visits.  So, after 9 months of corresponding with KC I bought a first class plane ticket, rented a car, got a fabulous hotel room (I figured why not go in style!) and I was on my way to see my new friend!