MJ-Way

Earlier in my teaching career I had a run in with a deputy and her assistant. She and her assistant had tried to stop the warden from approving my plans for landscaping the prison grounds to no avail. What I didn’t realize then was that they viewed me as a threat. This was told to me by the maintenance mechanic who installed our greenhouse. He had to do some work in the deputy suite and all he heard was our deputy complaining about the prison looking “too soft” with all the flower gardens, and “what more would I create given card blanche from our warden.” It was a sobering revelation because I thought this all had been resolved in the first year of our greenhouse being constructed, and my plans being accepted by our warden. Three years forward and I was still hearing about pushback from the upper prison echelons who believed the horticulture class was not good for prison security. It was a tough group to convince and I didn’t have the time or energy to school them. However, they had some schooling for me and when the warden or my principal was at another facility they became master disrupters of the program.

The siren was blown and the school was emptied of all students and tutors. We were on lockdown. The school closed. This meant that custody became our immediate supervisors and our new assignments were based on what ever prison administration thought the need was. That meant we could be assigned to search prisoner cells in the housing units, help run the prisoner housing units, giving a break to custody officers so they could get lunch, or do other tasks, like helping out in the mess hall, serving lunches or delivering lunches depending on the severity of the lock down. It always depended on what caused the lockdown as to where we would be assigned. Sometimes it was just a regular monthly drill where all non custody employees were gathered in one area of the school and accounted for. Once accounted for they would be delivered to the Administration building’s visitor room for further assignment. That assignment would depend on the current administrations feelings toward you. If they loved you, or feared you, you got to sit in the think tank and do absolutely nothing in the wardens conference room. I heard the donuts and coffee were to die for.

If they hated, or feared you but not enough to be afraid of how they treated you, you can rest assured your assignment would be one for the record books. I had quite a few of the record breaking assignments and my colleagues often shook their heads when I informed them of where I was assigned. So on this historical day I was the only non custody employee who got assigned to do strip searches of prisoners. With the help of our school officers I was trained in the proper way of conducting the searches referred to as “nuts and butts.” Our school officer couldn’t help but notice I was the only non custody employee assigned here. “It’s obvious”, he chirped. ” Our deputy hates the flowers and you keep expanding the gardens.” I had to inform him that I don’t consider them gardens. They are my laboratories, and with the help of God we have been very successful with our classroom/greenhouse experiments. The landscape spoke of that success. ” Well than, Welcome to our circus,” he said laughing. “With your continued success it looks like you’ll be joining us on a regular basis!” That was understated and he was absolutely correct. I was going to have to figure this out quickly or I would begin being assigned to some very difficult areas every time the siren blew. Being singled out for some” Special High Intensity Training,” by our current prison administration gave me even more motivation to continue expanding our gardens. So I did just that, and I also developed a plan for the next time the siren was blown and I was reassigned. TO BE CONTINUED…

Isaiah 9:6, John 3:16

.After all the craziness with the contraband and the need to change my curriculum away from the distribution of house plants, I took new inspiration from a woman I met at a correctional teacher’s conference in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her name was Elanor Jositis and I could identify with her struggle to bring opportunity to a community so lacking of it. What I admired the most was her efforts to bring vocational training to an area marked by civil unrest. She was a key note speaker at the conference and she made the Correctional Teachers and Instructors feel appreciated. She spoke highly of her students who had come to Focus Hope from being incarcerated. She felt many of them where prepared having their GED’s and/or vocational certifications. Her staff found them willing and motivated and she thanked us for that. It was a breath of fresh air hearing her say that. Before Mrs. Jositis spoke, we were berated by another key note speaker for not doing enough to prepare our students for the world once they left the prison system. It was nice to hear that someone felt we were making a difference. Especially a leader in the community whose organization was known for providing vocational training and employment for a population lacking the opportunity.

.I began to steer my students who would be paroling to the city to Focus Hope. I was trained to give the General Education Development exams. and to those students receiving their GED’s, if they were paroling to the city, I would direct them to contact Focus Hope. I had a list of apprenticeships for the skilled trades to offer my students, but I always felt that they were capable of becoming skilled machinists. If they could divide an eight ball of cocaine, (many of them being in the drug trade), they could read a micrometer and blue prints. Focus Hope would provide the training and the students would have to show motivation by learning the material then applying it. Focus Hope has state of the art equipment and a genuine environment for training adult learners. I became a conduit for my students to seek them out if they were returning to the city. The demand for good machinists was strong and Focus Hope’s reputation was well known in the manufacturing sector for producing them.

.I would reconnect with Focus Hope on a regular basis. Myself and a colleague would make the trip on an annual basis to visit. The staff were always welcoming and would provide us an update of their latest’s technologies. They were also expanding and included a new child care center and food pantry for their students. After the demise of the house plant business at the prison, it was a welcome relief to hear of the successes this organization was making in the city with our returning citizens. I would be approached on a regular basis by my students or their friends to make copies of the flyers and pamphlets published by Focus Hope which hung in my classroom. I was told over the years of my students who had found success there and became machinists. I was eternally grateful when I had heard this and continue to this day to support this organization. In the world we live today this organization and its’ message is ever the more relevant. I was glad to help my students reconnect with their community through Focus Hope. It was also a new way for me to reconnect with the community having given up on the house plant business. I was refreshed in a sense, and would look for even more opportunities for my students to display their skills. TO BE CONTINUED…

Isaiah 9: 1-3, Mathew 4: 12-17

.So after three long months of investigations and my program being put on hold I was informed by our school officer that a cell phone, 32mm magazine clip (missing 2 bullets with 5 bullets remaining in the clip) and a buck knife were discovered inside a plant container. An ounce of Marihuana was also discovered under a locked cabinet in a supply room. The same room the officers had been meeting each other on regular basis for their rendezvous. I wondered why the current school administration had not informed me of this, and I brought this subject up at our staff meeting. My colleagues were in shock when I repeated what our school officer said was found in the plant container. The colleague I had been admonishing for being myopic informed me that the phone contained a video as well, and was purchased by one of the officers he had seen leaving the supply room a little disheveled. Our new school secretary who was anything but professional blurted out, (to the chagrin of our new school principal) “it was a sex video!” From the secretary’s exacerbated tone and our new principal’s laughing acknowledgement I felt ill at ease.

.Now I was completely befuddled by these revelations. For how long was this known? I was on the administrative hot seat for the past three months and no one from our current administration had informed me of these findings. Our school officer being in the same position as me because of the contraband informed the group that he was just made aware of these facts a week ago and had informed me of the contraband found in the planter. He was just informed today that the video was a ménage a trois between the two officers often seen in the supply room together and a prisoners’ wife. The officers in the video both resigned before an investigation could be conducted on them. One of the officers had risen in rank and was seen as a department “golden child.” The ramifications of liability for the DOC were evident. The school principal informed us that the bullets missing from the 32 mm clip were found and that a gun was not smuggled into our facility. At the time I found this hard to believe. The motivation for the contraband was never discussed formally. The why, what, and when were left to speculation. In the DOC set ups occurred on a regular basis and it was assumed that’s what happened with these officers.

.I remembered what the instructors at the academy had taught us in new employee school. We would have more problems with staff than we would with prisoners. I was skeptical when they made this point. I began losing that skepticism the longer I taught for the department and began seeing staff compromised. I was made a Chief Union Steward by default ( nobody wanted the job) and I had volunteered. I began representing people who had been compromised far beyond my help. I would inform them to contact a lawyer and hope the department doesn’t prosecute. They didn’t appreciate the advice. All terminations could be grieved, but in light of the DOC’s willingness to prosecute, most defendants just resigned. I was a lousy union representative when it came to terminations. I told my employer they would eventually get someone killed. They waited until they had more than enough evidence that an employee was compromised and I informed them that in so doing, another innocent employee could be hurt. They wanted to “make their case” was often the response. In the ten terminations I had to represent while being a steward, not one fought to get their job back. The incriminating evidence was overwhelmingly not in their favor. I think the officers figured that out quickly, and left without letting the door hit them where the Good Lord split them. I don’t know what the department did in their case. The information was never shared with me. I just knew the house plant business I started 10 years ago was no more. My bubble burst. I would look for other opportunities to show case what my students could accomplish by completing the class.

To Be Continued…

Luke 1:31-33

The officers came out of the supply room with the evidence of their dalliance being a little disheveled. They tucked in their shirts and straightened out their uniform pants as they exited opposite ends of the school building. This had been reported to me by a colleague who had witnessed them leaving the supply room before. I had been admonishing my colleague to watch what was going on around us and not to be too myopic when dealing with our environment. It was easy to do. We have so many hours of classroom instruction, our facility reports, tickets written to prisoners for not attending school, evaluations of our students, and our school utilization reports were burdens that our current administrators thought were justifications for their high paying employment. With our work load I failed to understand what my colleague was trying to tell me. The ramifications of that observation would effect my program in the most negative way later in my career. For now, we were operating at full capacity. Seven classroom hours a day left little time for writing reports. Unfortunately, I became myopic with the demands of this work load. The very same thing was happening to all the educators in the school. We all had unmanageable work loads and were chastised for not turning reports in on time.

I continued to focus on Horticulture. We had over three hundred house plants in our greenhouse propagated from cuttings by my students. We developed a program of donating those plants to our local community hospitals, senior citizen centers, nursing homes, and all the offices in our facility that wanted them. Our warden made sure that his office, his assistant’s office, our lobbies and visiting areas all had hanging houseplants or large floor plants. Sometimes both. We exchanged plants when needed, and doctored those that needed immediate attention before sending them back healthy again. We could replace them immediately with new plants when needed and our staff often visited the greenhouse looking for new plants to replace the ones they “over loved.” Too much water and not enough light as evidenced by our long cold winters had us replacing plants on a very regular basis. Even though I would instruct staff that house plants don’t need as much water during the winter months but we would still have to try to revive the drowned brought back to our greenhouse. It was a thriving business model and would go on for many years. The joy it brought our immediate community was evidenced by letters of thanks sent to our warden who in turn shared them with us on a regular basis. It was uplifting and my students appreciated the accolades.

As in life, all good things must come to an end. “Toutes les bonnes choses ont une fin” Ten years into the house plant business contraband was found in a house plant container on a secretary’s desk in one of the administrative school building suites. My program was completely shut down and searches began in my classroom, and greenhouse. The plants in my room were emptied into the middle of it. (Thank God I asked they not carpet my room when they carpeted the other classrooms.) Books and videos were pulled from the shelves and thrown throughout the room after being searched. The same search was conducted in the greenhouse. The staff who had acquired plants from our program were asked to search their plant containers for contraband. I would be on pins and needles for the next three months as a much less friendlier education administration took control over the school

This incident would make the current education administration less promotable, and could keep them from reaching the next step in their career ladders. They were not happy with me. In the beginning I was not informed of what the contraband was, or what I was being suspected of. The tutors I had working for me were assigned to different areas not in the school. I was allowed to keep two of the six I had working for me because they had only begun working for the school a short time. Two of the six were transferred to other facilities, and I decided at that point the house plant business was over. After three months of investigations, turmoil and stress, I felt it was in my best interest to eliminate that part of my curriculum My students would till be taught how to produce and care for house plants but on a much smaller scale. The plants made a very interesting compost pile as I emptied the greenhouse. I was finally informed by our school officer the details of what the contraband was, and it shocked me. I was not prepared for what was told to me, and I wondered why our new school administrators had not been the ones to inform me. I felt betrayed and did not view them favorably. I am sure my feelings were mutual. I again began to question why was I working here?

TO BE CONTINUED …

Psalms 91:1-16

After my two new tutors tested positive for opiates, the school principal had asked our warden to conduct a search in the greenhouse and my classroom. My students would not be allowed back into the classroom or greenhouse until the search was completed. The school principal wanted to make sure nothing was being hidden in my classroom or greenhouse and had requested the warden to have the State Police bring in drug detecting dogs to scour both areas. Our principal had all the students removed from the school. We went into our conference room for a staff meeting with our warden and then our school principal asked that every room in the school be searched using the dogs as well. It was an interesting day. The dogs actually found one marihuana seed wrapped in cellophane thrown into a trash can. I was impressed. Our warden informed us that he felt the marihuana seed was a setup perpetuated by a disgruntled worker I had fired earlier in the year. The worker had access to the area it was found in. The ex-worker was then transferred to another facility. No other drugs were found in the school or greenhouse. The gardens were also checked and the dogs found nothing there as well.

Our warden informed us that the dogs would be used routinely to search out contraband and cautioned us to be alert. This was all new to me. I felt that we were all suspect, and rightly so. The prison staff were all possible contraband vectors. This was the reality right up to my retirement 25 years later. The prisoners would, could and did find mules to bring them whatever they wanted on a regular basis. This was a dangerous game and staff fell victim to it as well as visitors. I could not understand this, but it was an inherent part of doing business in the prison. I was ever cognizant of what was going on around me, and questioned if I was being distracted purposefully so as not to see what was happening elsewhere. It lead me to arrange my classroom so that my desk was in the back of the room, and my students’ desks were facing the front of the classroom. It was much easier for me not to be distracted having a view of them at all times as well as the hallway. I could respond quickly to any interruptions this way. It worked for me while class was in session but when class was over and students exited into the hallway it was much more difficult to monitor.

I was told later in the month that one of the tutors who had tested positive for opiates was released from prison after winning his freedom on an appeal. He had been incarcerated for over 25 years. A month later I was informed by one of his friends that he died of an opiate overdose. Unfortunately, this would not be the last time I would hear of opiate overdoses and deaths. The “opiate crisis” would wreak havoc in communities across the United States affecting friends and families of many citizens including those returning to their communities from prison. The Narcan pen had not been developed yet, and overdosing was very common. What I began seeing in the prison with opiates was the same thing I saw when “crack cocaine” hit the streets in the neighborhoods around the medical centers I worked. Crack cocaine junkies became scrappers and began to take apart their communities one house at a time to get the money needed for their crack habits. Gangs wreaked havoc in communities as they fought for control of this very lucrative trade. Fire bombings and drive by shootings were the methods employed for intimidation and control. The prison was a microcosm of those communities. Stabbings and beat downs were the methods used to settle territory disputes. This is real!

To Be Continued…

Isaiah 25:6-9

.After returning back to our facility and feeling good about our contribution to Habitat For Humanity’s “Blitz Build” I was alerted by one of my tutors that all of the school’s tutors had been drug tested while I was away. Two of the newly hired Horticulture tutors tested positive for opiates. They were caught trying to hide “their works” (syringe, and needles) in the Greenhouse plants. My Principal had called me to the office. He informed me that the tutors who tested positive were fired, and I was responsible for making sure all the necessary paperwork be completed for his immediate signature. The wind was taken from my sails. They were good workers who hid their addiction but I was told later by our custody staff that it was not the first time for either of them. One of the tutors’ nick name was “Doc” and I needed to pay attention to what the inmates called each other. It was usually an indication of either their prison sentence, or what they were into. A prison moniker.

.I had directed my tutor helpers not to call my students by their prison nicknames. I wanted my classroom to be run professionally. My students were to be addressed by their surnames only. I had to admonish one of my tutors who called a student prisoner who only had one leg and used a walker “kick stand.” I could not believe the insensitivity. My helper tutor looked at me and informed me that “ole kickstand ” killed a family of four in a drunken car crash. His leg had to be amputated mangled beyond repair from the crash. He didn’t ‘give a shit’ about what he did and he planned on still drinking once he was released. I was informed that “he runs one of the best prison stills on this facility grounds, and has not been caught yet.” Indirectly he was telling me that my tutors insensitivity in using the student prisoners’ moniker was justified because of the current reality. That reality quickly changed when the “best still” on prison grounds was raided. My disabled student was charged in the making and distribution of contraband. He was found guilty and was sent to a higher security level. That meant he was immediately dropped from my class.

.I informed all my tutor helpers that I would appreciate it if they told me what my student’s nick names were, but I still want all my helpers to use my students last names accompanied by Mr. It was professional I thought. In later years I would have to drop the mister because I was not always sure that was the case. Without judgement, using the surname was much easier. I often ran into problems with prisoner names. I would have students who didn’t want their “prison name” on certificates of completion or their GED diplomas. They would claim that their prison name was an alias and their real name was something much different. I always referred them back to their original application. The name they put on that application was checked by our school secretary for admittance to the school. If it did not match the legal name they would not be admitted until the discrepancy was rectified.

.Even though we had safeguards in place concerning names I was told at a GED conference that a prisoner had used the name “Mickey Mouse.” When the school received the GED with that moniker they had no way of validating who Mickey Mouse was. The inmate was not happy. They informed us at the conference the school asked the GED testing service to eliminate the diploma. The inmate would have to test on all 5 subjects again using his legal name. The GED testing service had no way of validating he was “Mickey Mouse.” The instructor who administered the exams to “Mickey” was no longer working for the MDOC, and no one from the facility school would validate the prisoner’s claim of being “Mickey.” No one wanted to admit that his teacher let a name like “Mickey Mouse” register for the GED exam. The inmate could not prove he was Mickey Mouse, and the test was eliminated. He would have to test using his legal name. Prison Stories To Be Continued

Revelation 2:17

.We determined what our signature flower would be which identified us as a producer for the Habitat For Humanity Nursery. That nursery was established at my mentors’ facility. Our contribution, a perennial Hybrid Hibiscus. This plant would grow every year in our Northern climate. and would not have to be replanted. We had been growing them at our facility for over a three year experimental period. We learned much in the process and were able to decorate the level 1 and level 2 yards with them. They became the focal point of our landscape and donations. My mentor was happy to receive them for their nursery and he felt they were great landscape plants for Habitat For Humanity homes. My students were happy to grow them not always knowing what color they would be once propagated. I informed them that GOD was the artist and He would determine the colors. They smiled at that and quizzed me on my faith. I informed them that by His grace go I. The bad decisions I was making on a regular basis as a wild teenager could of landed me here. I was fortunate not to get caught. They laughed. I informed them that picking colors wasn’t all that He can do. They should try Him sometime. They may be surprised.

.The man we were growing these flowers for is a big proponent of His compassion, and understanding. I actually got to see our ex president Jimmy Carter and his wife Rosalynn walk down 25th street and Martin Luther King boulevard passing out bibles to the new Habitat for Humanity home buyers. I was invited by my mentor to participate in the “Blitz Build.” We were coordinating the landscaping. The prison Horticulture programs had grown trees, bushes, and perennials which were purchased by the home owners. We coordinated their delivery and planting. It was a major undertaking as 35 homes were constructed in a two week period hence the term, “Blitz Build” was most appropriate. I has a great experience there. The vacant lot we were staging the landscaping in had a number of mature mulberry trees that were full of fruit. When the neighborhood children found out that they could be eaten, I had stiff competition to see who could pick and eat the most mulberries. It wasn’t fair as they climbed the trees and picked handfuls of mulberries tossing them to their waiting friends. Better than candy.

.The secret service was always present at this build. You could tell because they wore headsets and they made sure the area was safe before our former president and wife entered it. He was genuine as was his wife. They shook all our hands, thanked us for volunteering and wanted to know what we thought of this “Blitz Build.” I found them to be the real deal and he blessed us for helping upon leaving. The noon bell went off and we were ushered to a large tented area were dignitaries from all walks of life ate with the likes of me and my peasant friends a most discernable lunch menu consisting of hotdogs, potato chips and pop. Listening to the laughter, and conversation made me aware that this was both a spiritual and uplifting experience for the participants. I was glad for the invitation to share in this unique camaraderie. After lunch we finished delivering our plants to the individual houses for planting. It made me feel good knowing the Prison Build and Horticulture Programs were being represented here as well as all of our students efforts in the final product, a well built home fully landscaped. I took pictures to share with them when I returned to my classroom. To Be Continued…. <Matthew 6: 25-34>

.The flowers for the yard had been grown in the greenhouse by my students and tutors. The production in the first year was incredible. Over 40,000 annuals, 20, 000 perennials and 10, 000 vegetable plants had been propagated and planted through out our facility. Donations were made of perennials and vegetable plants to our extension service, senior centers , and an area county hospital. The production looked promising even though we had been given a new name by our naysayers. “Camp candy land” was the unofficial name of our facility given to us by those who thought our program made this place “soft.” The Warden was happy as letters of thanks came to his office from our immediate community thanking him for all of our donations both plants and vegetables. I explained to him that it was the cooperation of the Resident Unit Managers, Assistant Resident Unit Managers, and officers who helped make sure my students were allowed to work where they were needed. They went out of their way to man the sally port so I could deliver all the donations. I felt this was really a team effort and there is no” I” in team. He needed to congratulate them as well. I was told he did thank all of them for supporting this program.

.When it became time to harvest the vegetable garden I was surprised to see about 10 prisoners who belonged to an outside group who supported urban Horticulture wanting a cut from the garden. They each had large duffle bags but were preempted from entering the garden by signs that read off limits. They immediately found me in the Greenhouse and wanted to know whether or not they could enter the garden and help with the harvest. “Help with harvest how?” I responded pointing at their luggage. I unfortunately had to inform them that they were not authorized to be in the garden or this Greenhouse. Only those with written details, my students and tutors, were allowed. I thanked them for offering to help, (though showing up with your personal duffel bags to “help harvest the garden”… ) but given the circumstances their request seemed disingenuous. They were not happy with my evaluation of their request to help. I even suggested that they take the class if they could meet the requirements.

.The Vocational School required applying students to have a GED or high school diploma. Students applying needed to be ticket free for the past year and stay ticket free during their enrollment. It was an incentive that worked in the beginning when it was being enforced. However, this would not be the case in future Education Administrations. The incentives to attend school would be diluted as well as the requirements for entry by Administrators who seemed to be directionless. This was not the case in the first years of harvest. The prison horticulture program donated garden produce to our local food banks, flowers to our area senior living facilities, house plants to our county hospital, and plants to our the Horticulture extension office. We got a lot of support from our Housing Unit managers and custody staff. Without that help the program would not be successful. We still had naysayers, but those supporting us outnumbered those who did not. Much like life, time changes everything. Need less to say, we would be eventually out numbered by naysayers. I never gave up hope as the social good we were producing through our work was always the reward. My students were focused and driven and I would not give up on them. They were what needed to be changed, and it was happening in a positive way. Law abiding citizens when they returned to society was always the goal. To Be Continued…

• 

Then it happened. The siren was blown. My tutors and I scrambled all over the yard collecting tools from my students and locking them in our tool shed. I thought I had all my bases covered. Staff were accounted for in the school, and I was allowed to go count the tools to make sure I had them all. Once that determination was made, and the prisoners were back in their housing units for count we had a program and school staff meeting with our new Assistant Deputy Warden, our Deputy Warden and Captain. As always with new staff I would be asked a thousand questions on why , what and where my students were working, and with this new ADW it took on a much different dimension.

All horticulture projects being completed in the level 2 yards and school yards were stopped. I had to have permission through this new ADW’s office to complete or continue working on the gardens both flower and vegetable. Plans on how I wished to continue had to be submitted and approved by the new ADW’s office. Even after informing all of them that the main plan was approved by our warden the new ADW (in cohorts with our Deputy Warden, and Captain) insisted I needed to resubmit my plans for their approval. I can honestly say their request had me flummoxed. Another level of bureaucracy was being immediately established and imposed on the school to purposely halt our progress.

I knew from here on out I was going to have a hard time with these DOC administrators overseeing the school. It became even more complicated when some of our naysayers became even more indignant, and vocal. For the first time at this facility I was being targeted by some real staff assholes who would grab their crotch and state for all to hear, “hey Horticulture Teacher, I got your tulips right here.!” I couldn’t wait for our school principal to return to our facility. He had to divide his time between two facilities, and he wasn’t present for our new ADW’s introduction to our school. When he returned he wasn’t concerned by what I informed had happened at our staff meeting. He called the Warden’s office and we had an immediate meeting with the New Assistant Deputy Warden, Deputy Warden, the Warden, and the captain.

The Warden informed everyone at this meeting that the program I was implementing was already approved by the Governors’ office. He had the blue print that I had submitted earlier and informed them he had already approved it before sending it on. He thought it was rather ambitious of me but he could see I was already making great progress, and that I was not to be hindered in that endeavor. He informed me that if I was being harassed on any level I was to inform his office. The new Assistant Deputy Warden, the Deputy Warden, and Captain looked at me but unfortunately didn’t return my smile. The principal thanked everyone for their time and understanding. He had a way of doing it with his eyes closed that either spoke of his experience or his boredom. I believed it was both. He informed everyone if their weren’t any questions for the school we were needing to get back, because my students will be planting “Elephant Head Amaranth.”

All the plants had been grown in our greenhouse and were being planted in the flower beds facing the Administration Building windows. (where the Captain and Deputy Warden’s offices were located.) There were no questions, the meeting was adjourned, and we proceeded on our way. However, once the flowers started maturing after being planted I was being questioned on their appearance. I couldn’t help it if they were being perceived by some to be giving “the finger.” My explanation fell on deaf ears. What they called “the finger” was actually the trunk and after time would curl around the head giving it an appearance of an elephant’s head. I was not being believed by my naysayers. They considered this an act of defiance. “But by whom” I would ask? “Me?” They actually believed I had planned this. Give it time I would explain, “everything changes with time.” To Be Continued…

Pushback was beginning to happen again, and it had to do with who I hired as school tutors. It seemed that every time a new assistant deputy warden was hired (ADW) I had to explain who I was, what was I doing, and who was working for me. Specifically, who were my tutors, what were they being paid, how did I select them? I wasn’t well liked when I informed them to read DOC policy because that’s what I use to manage my work load with inmates. As far as my students were concerned they could speak with my school principal because frankly, not wanting to show any disrespect, “you are not in my chain of command. However, the principal would be more than willing to enlighten them.” I got some really weird looks after that. Needless to say, I would find myself using this logic: “I don’t report to you please call my school principal. I am doing what is expected of a teacher running a Horticulture class. Please don’t continue to interrupt my class, thank you.”

From that point on I would draw the ire of some of the most vocal critics this side of the Mississippi River. Fortunately, God had blessed me with a continued hearing loss, (which I didn’t find out about until I had my first executive physical in my late 20’s. Seems an early life ear infection had taken some of my hearing and I did not hear what the Doctor described as the female decibel level. When I think about all the times I heard my poor mother say” boy are you deaf?” I could at least have answered, “yes I am!” ) and if my detractors didn’t have bass in their voices I didn’t hear them. If they did have bass in their voices I ignored them. A blessing still. However, that didn’t stop the constant barrage of memorandums I would have to respond to in the early phases of the program. We didn’t have email yet and the DOC practiced “memo management.” Decrees would be issued by the “memocrats” and I was constantly being pulled to the wardens’ office to explain my noncompliance. “Didn’t you read the memo?!” became the mantra of the memocrats, and to that question I would always respond, ” what memo?”

It seemed prisoner movement, specifically my students and tutors, became a bone of contention for the memocrats. They would cite various DOC policies and facility procedures that they claimed I was in violation of by running this program. The memocrats’ movement brought out many detractors who believed that prisoners just needed to be locked down and the DOC school should be shut down. Our school principal was a strong voice for the school and he would say on many occasions that we are outnumbered. The last thing we need is more prisoner idleness. I could also find policy directives that backed what I was trying to accomplish with horticulture, and used them to disarm the naysayers. However, the pressure and stress would eventually work on my innards. Something I didn’t even realize was happening until later in life.

It became a game for me in the beginning stages of implementation. I would have to have written details for my tutors to maintain the greenhouse even in my absence. The warden and school principal understood this and made sure I wasn’t hindered in securing those details. I received help by the warden assigning the school officer to also check on me, the greenhouse , and gardens on a regular basis. The yard officers also helped supervise the projects in the level two yard, and I appreciated that. The officers let me know they were happy to help when they could. For me it was a challenge of logistics. Who was working were, with what tool, and what was being accomplished, all had to be tracked. My students were making flower beds and garden beds through out the level two and school yards. I had to have a plan on how I would secure the tools if an emergency arose. Fights in the big yard, school, housing units, that could escalate into large confrontations were always a possibility, as well as assaults’ on staff by prisoners. When the siren was blown the prisoners were instructed to return to their housing units immediately for count.

TO BE CONTINUED…