Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Tuesday marks my 27th day
as a minimum level inmate. I was “rolled up”, loaded onto a van and driven
across the state to a small town called Florence, Arizona which is located
approximately 45 minutes outside of Phoenix on the southeastern side. I believe
that I was truly ill-equipped to handle this particular change and, as you can
see, it has taken near a month for me to get out a blog entry. Nevertheless, I
am as situated as I am ever going to be and it is time to get back on the
proverbial horse.
This particular facility is unlike any
place I have ever been. It spans over a mile and is separated into 3 individual
‘yards’ which ae all connected by gateways. There are 1,500 inmates that live
here and everyone of us has a release date. I am so accustomed to being around
inmates who are serving life sentences or have been in prison for many, many
years. Because of that reference point, I am in awe at how people behave here.
There seems to be no structure, very little respect, and very minimal race or
gang-related politics. This is odd to me and makes me realize how very
institutionalized I really have become. In short, I have somehow evolved into a
‘convict’ and never even realized it.
I quickly realized that I was being
avoided by almost everyone besides a small handful of inmates whom I already
knew. When I inquired as to why most inmates were avoiding me, I was given an
educational lesson. Apparently, I was being considered as violent, highly
political and calculating. My reputation at Stiner in Buckeye (and other
incredibly volatile facilities) had somehow manifested itself into the
perception that I was a pretty serious ‘bad ass’. Inside, I chuckled about it,
but when I was alone, I was disheartened by it. It is challenging to change
people’s minds in here and I am not about to try. So I have accepted the fact
that at least for now, I am flying solo for the most part. I am embracing it
even though the whole point of coming to a minimum security facility was to
re-establish some normalcy. That in mind – this is the least normal place I
have been in some time.
For now, the inmates around me are on
eggshells and I can hear their whispers behind my back. I know it. They know
it. There is no point in confronting them because this is not the type of place
for that. Additionally, that confrontational behavior is something in me that I
am trying to change. Because of the peculiar nature of these inmates though,
the staff and officers tend to be less patient, less respectful and often come
across as well, rude. I am taken aback at how terribly they can treat the
inmates here but I stop to put it into perspective and try to stay out of their
way. I believe they must be completely jaded from dealing with DUI/drug
offenders, auto thieves and other less violent, petty/mediocre criminals. I suppose
they cannot help but to have a chip on their shoulders. The officers whom I am
accustomed to dealing with however are very well aware of what the higher level
inmates have done – and are still capable of. The fear that the inmate has
‘nothing to lose’ creates a certain level of awareness and mutual respect
between officer and inmate that simply does not exist here.
At this facility though,. I am truly
the new (yet old) kid on the block. I thought that after a few weeks, people
would eventually warm up to me, but they have not. I shouldn’t care really… I
don’t need new friends. I just wish I understood it better.
It pains me to say this, but at
certain moments, I wish I was back on a medium security yard. Sad, but true.
