.By the end of the year 2020 over 350,000 people had succumb to the covid -19 virus in the United States as reported by the Center of Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. Another 30, 000 people would die from other diseases with covid 19 being the contributor in the progression of the disease that killed them. Being on medical leave gave me a chance to think things over like: 1. How many more years did I intend to teach at the prison? 2. How to protect myself in that covid ridden environment? 3. Where would I be assigned with the school now tuned into an infirmary? 4.Should I hang up my lab coat and retire after teaching here for just over 26 years? My wife made the decision easy for me. With my health requirement for safety and none being provided, it was time for me to hang it up. I would go back to work for one month and give my notice to retire. It was bitter sweet. I felt I could have easily completed five more years teaching.
.Our new curriculum was awesome and I had actually completed inmates, who passed their exams, and received certification with the Michigan Nursery Men and Landscaping Association. All they would have to do was work in a nursery for two years once they were released from prison to receive their official certification. The opportunities for them were now endless. Our new curriculum also gave my students the chance to earn their pest control licenses through the Michigan Department of Agriculture. Many of them did pass exams in specific categories, and all they had to do was request their earned licenses from the Michigan Department of Agriculture once released from prison. I had coordinated many of licenses to their appropriate holders, and was thanked wholeheartedly by my released students. This was a new day for them and a job opportunity they would not have had otherwise.
.It was hard for me to make the final decision to leave and when I finally went back to work I continued to vacillate. Should I stay or should I go? I did pray often. Working in a prison makes one a firm believer in God. I submitted my final paper work to retire on June 3, 2020. I never thought about it again. It was time for me to leave. I felt bad about leaving a classroom I often struggled to keep moving in a positive way. I also felt bad about leaving two very dedicated colleagues who rewrote the curriculum to gain national and state certifications for our students. That was an impressive work on their parts. Thinking about all the Horticulture Instructors I had met through out the years of teaching, these two were the most dedicated, and for all the right reasons. I am not sure that the prison administration had any clue what it took to teach in a prison classroom. They were oblivious to everything except the malversation they seemed to excel in. I was glad to finally be free of their degeneracy. … Prison Stories To Be Continued…
. I didn’t really know her, but she seemed really pleasant. The tutors that were kept to run the Horticulture program thanked her for taking the responsibility of overseeing what was left of the program. The school principal, like many of the managers in the MDOC, acted perfunctorily when informing me of her passing from covid-19. It did not surprise me. He had manipulated his peers to keep him at one prison even though he was assigned here. At the time of his reassignment we had over 200 inmates with active covid cases. The numbers of active covid cases were he stayed was less than 50 at the time. That reasoning would prove futile as the disease progressed and spread throughout all the prisons over time. The administration however would work from home! The teachers, (who were always told they were non essential during budget short-falls and would be the first to be laid off) were now essential employees. They would be used where ever they were needed and reported to custody staff.
.As the disease progressed, protective equipment like masks and gloves were in short supply. Hand sanitizer’s were being brought from home. The drugstores and supper markets ran out of all disinfecting supplies. The inmate porters responsible for cleaning began using the only chemical that wasn’t in short supply and that was bleach. The prison began to smell like an over chlorinated swimming pool. The smell of the bleach was not a deterrent for the disease, it spread rapidly, and the school was closed in the process. I had just returned to work after spending three months on medical leave for open heart surgery, and not having personal protective equipment to wear during this pandemic didn’t sit well with me. The school principal put me in touch with the department manager who was as useless as tits on a bull. She was being paid to sit at home . I was assigned to take temperatures of the staff coming in to work. I asked her where was the “protective equipment?” She gave no answer.
.I let her know of another employee passing away from covid, and many more who were denied entry into the prison because they had fevers over 100 degrees. Still no response. My final question was “why was I being required to be here when the school is now closed?” Her answer was generic but basically stated the teachers were determined to be “essential employees.” Even though the school was closed, we were to help where ever we were needed. Our direct report was now the prison warden. Okie dokie…I had open heart surgery in 2018 and my doctor advised me I was at risk working here without personal protective equipment like masks, and gloves. Those catching the disease were dying. I don’t think our manager (who was being paid to work from home) cared one iota about us at this point in time. She was safe. It became an easy decision for me. I went on medical leave with the approval of my cardiologist. Some of my colleagues followed the same course. I couldn’t blame them. We were all in unchartered waters, and the death toll kept rising. ……Prison Stories To Be Continued….REVELATION 7: 9-12
. Before the Covid pandemic started, I was requested by our school principal to travel to another prison facility and help a program staff person decide how to run the greenhouse. The principal had eliminated the Horticulture program, but he still wanted the greenhouse to operate. I did not agree with his decision to eliminate the program, and was hoping I could change his mind. The Horticulture teachers at two other prisons were able to work with an administrative coordinator, and develop a curriculum that was backed by the Michigan Department of Agriculture and the Michigan Nursery and Landscaping Association. They were both exceptional teachers, and I was glad to be their colleague. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by a young woman who was very happy to see me. She had so many questions for me I had to ask her to wait a minute. I needed to find out from her why, if the program was eliminated, did the principal still want to operate a greenhouse?
.She was straightforward with me and felt overwhelmed. She was aware of the lay off of the Horticulture Instructor who ran the program. The Horticulture Instructor who had replaced him, because he had more seniority, was rarely there. He eventually retired, and the principal would not fill the position. However, he still wanted the gardens and greenhouse to operate. She informed me that she didn’t want to make any negative waves with the School Principal, and was hoping I could give her some direction on what to do. She only wanted to do what he requested from her. It was perplexing to say the least. I found this school principal to be arrogant, flippant at times, mostly disingenuous, and ignorant. He should not have eliminated the Horticulture program here! She was able to keep the Horticulture clerks employed, but didn’t know what they would be doing. She believed the school principal wanted them to maintain a facility garden, donate flowers and house plants to the community. The prison garden would be used in their food technology program and donations of produce to their immediate community.
.The contacts had been established by the Horticulture Teacher whom the principal effectively laid off when he eliminated the program. I didn’t want to make another visit here so I asked to speak with the tutors and her together. Some of them I already knew when they stayed at Macomb, so I also was aware of their abilities., and inabilities. Before I left for the day we established a goal for what they needed to accomplish, and how they could be successful. I gave her contacts for obtaining soil, seeds, plant material, pots, and we established a garden schedule. She thanked me and I did believe they would be successful. I never got to check in on them because a month after visiting that prison Covid 19 began its’ terrible rage. Covid had struck all the prisons in the state of Michigan. Our school principal had to stay at the facility he eliminated the Horticulture program at. He would not be coming here for meetings. I had found out from another staff person that my contact at that prison, who only wanted to do what “he wanted her to do” had passed away from covid. I was feeling exhausted and just didn’t want to think on this anymore. I said a prayer for her but I still felt numb…Prison Stories To Be Continued..
. The land of nod is where drug addicts find solace. It was no different here in this prison. Drugs were being smuggled in and the potency was an unknown variable. The unknown variable eliminated the lives of many a prisoner who were addicted. They would never leave the land of nod, and would become it’s permanent citizens. For some prisoners, it was a much easier way to do time behind three security barbed wire fences. Especially, if they had long prison sentences and would not be leaving this prison anytime soon. So they found another way. The problem with being an addict in prison was the cost of the drugs, the ability to hide the addiction, the supplies needed to cook and intravenously inject it. Everyone in prison was a potential snitch. The game was to find a fellow inmate who did drugs and make them your room mate. That worked for many a prison drug addict until the land of nod was interrupted by an imposter. An imposter so deadly that even the first responders had to be careful not to come in contact with just the paraphernalia used to deliver an addicts dose. They did not posses the antidote.
.It seemed that the imposter, (known by its trade name Fentanyl) spread through the prison faster than Covid. Unfortunately, I got to witness both. They seemed to come back to back, and each took its toll both on staff and inmates. Fentanyl making its way into the prison was not a good thing for staff or prisoners. In its early incursion there was no way of handling an overdose safely. Staff had to be just as leery about coming in contact with any white powder because just coming in contact with it could cause an overdose. That made extra precautions for mailroom staff (who had already experienced an anthrax scare) opening prisoners mail. A job I was glad I did not have but gave my respect to those who had to do it The Narcan antidote took awhile before the prison would get it, and I’m sure that fentanyl took its toll here as well. Those statistics were not shared with the teachers.
.However, just as the Narcan protocol was being implemented another, even more sinister contagion, would appear here. Like the world, the prison was not ready for the consequences this disease would render on its population. The covid virus started with maybe forty prisoners being sick with what the facility believed was the flu. Prisoners notoriously won’t take flu vaccinations, and it wasn’t uncommon for flu outbreaks to occur during the season .This time it was different. By the end of the week forty sick prisoners turned into over 200 sick prisoners as covid began to spread through out the prison. There seemed to be no way to stop it from spreading. As much as the prison administration tried to segregate the sick from the healthy, the healthy became sick, and some of the sick would die.
.Our school was closed and was turned into an infirmary. We were reassigned to the warehouse and were told for the first time we were essential employees, and custody was now our supervisors. Visits were eliminated for prisoners, and administrative staff stayed at home working remotely. The stress of just coming back from open heart surgery a year before was enough for me to go on medical leave again. I also filed grievances with our union over the lack of “universal precautions.” Staff was given no protection and expected to keep working. Some brought their own masks, gloves, and sanitizer. It was a nightmare for those working with prisoners. The teachers were not exempt, and were reassigned were needed. Staff were becoming sick and some were dyeing, as well as prisoners. The epidemic would become a pandemic and effect nations. There was no end in sight. The death toll from the covid pandemic continued to mount here and around the world. …PRISON STORIES TO BE CONTINUED….
A crash course on the history of the PALESTINIAN STATE:
1. Before Israel, there was a British mandate, not a Palestinian state.
2. Before the British Mandate, there was the Ottoman Empire, not a Palestinian state.
3. Before the Ottoman Empire, there was the Islamic state of the Mamluks of Egypt, not a Palestinian state.
4. Before the Islamic state of the Mamluks of Egypt, there was the Ayyubid Arab-Kurdish Empire, not a Palestinian state.
5. Before the Ayyubid Empire, there was the Frankish and Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem, not a Palestinian state.
6. Before the Kingdom of Jerusalem, there was the Umayyad and Fatimid empires, not a Palestinian state.
7. Before the Umayyad and Fatimid empires, there was the Byzantine Empire, not a Palestinian state.
8. Before the Byzantine Empire, there were the Sassanids, not a Palestinian state.
9. Before the Sassanid Empire, there was the Byzantine Empire, not a Palestinian state.
10. Before the Byzantine Empire, there was the Roman Empire, not a Palestinian state.
11. Before the Roman Empire, there was the Hasmonean state, not a Palestinian state.
12. Before the Hasmonean state, there was the Seleucid, not a Palestinian state.
13. Before the Seleucid empire, there was the empire of Alexander the Great, not a Palestinian state.
14. Before the empire of Alexander the Great, there was the Persian empire, not a Palestinian state.
15. Before the Persian Empire, there was the Babylonian Empire, not a Palestinian state.
16. Before the Babylonian Empire, there were the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, not a Palestinian state.
17. Before the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, there was the Kingdom of Israel, not a Palestinian state.
18. Before the kingdom of Israel, there was the theocracy of the twelve tribes of Israel, not a Palestinian state.
19. Before the theocracy of the twelve tribes of Israel, there was an agglomeration of independent Canaanite city-kingdoms, not a Palestinian state.
20. Actually, in this piece of land there has been everything, EXCEPT A PALESTINIAN STATE.
Author: Valeri Sorochinsky Thank you for a much needed history lesson. Unfortunately, the enemies of Israel would rather rewrite their own. Am Yisrael Chai
. I got to meet an interesting person who was working for the Oakland County Livingston County Human Services Agency in Pontiac, Michigan. I was introduced to him through our Facility Coordinator, and I found him to be unbelievably talented. He wasn’t just another bureaucrat looking to see where he could get his next promotion. He was honestly looking to find a path for inmates returning to their communities from prison not to reoffend. Towards the end of my career in teaching he had developed a number of opportunities for returning citizens and I was mightily impressed. He was also very well aware of the underpinnings in the department I worked for, and basically could tell me on a regular basis what was happening in our prison education administration. Their ideas, what they believed were successful teaching strategies, and even personal attributes, (or lack of them) of my many bosses. I was informed by him whether I wanted to hear it or not.
.The most striking information I received from him was his knowing that two of our staff members in the school where under investigation, and the outcomes did not look good for either of them. Unfortunately for them, he was absolutely correct, and they were fired. I didn’t want to know how he knew this, but he often amazed me with these types of predictions. He obviously had his sources. What I saw him build over the years was to me pretty incredible. He started with an urban garden in Pontiac, Michigan and we grew the vegetables he would need to sustain it. He even had a rain water collection system which was used for the garden. His garden produce would be used for the Head Start Program. They had their own kitchen and made a variety of items, like kale potato chips, which he said he couldn’t stand but the kids thought was a real treat. He was also in touch with other urban gardeners and I made sure to give him extra vegetable plants for their gardens as well.
.However, what I thought he did amazingly was put together a landscaping crew from returning citizens (ex-convicts) and he serviced some rather large accounts. If that wasn’t enough, he started working on some urban blight, and as the homes were being demolished he saved the lumber. From the lumber he started having returning citizens make furniture as well. They sold the furniture in a store front not far from his office. I believed him to be a genius with a lot of energy. He was involved in so many community activities I didn’t know where he found the time. He enjoyed what he was doing. So, it surprised me when in the first month of the Trump administration, his program was eliminated, and he was laid off. I had heard he was brought back to work a few months later, but not in the same capacity. I never was able to find out about what happened to the enterprises he had created helping ex-convicts, but with his energy, I’m sure he’s doing something positive for the community he serves in. . Prison Stories To Be Continued…
.My experience teaching in this prison would be down right hilarious, if it wasn’t for the constant unexpected threat of violence. The school was always filled with activity. That activity could be a variety of classes, both academic and vocational, as well as programs. The program staff taught inmates being paroled a number of subjects pertaining to their release from prison. It was based on a curriculum supported by the prison administration, and prisoners had to attend the classes. No excuses would be accepted for missing a class meeting. An absence would eliminate them from the program. Not completing the program would effect their release date, and prolong their prison stay. I can honestly say those program classes were well attended. They were taught in a classroom across the hall from mine, and they would line up at the door to get in. Not something I was use to seeing here.
. It wasn’t uncommon that the program meetings would be scheduled at the same time our school had classes. I faulted the prison administration for not wanting to work with the prison school administration to make sure conflicting scheduled classes were kept at a minimum. I felt it was bad management, and a waste of time, but the teachers were left trying to iron out the conflicts. As a teacher I didn’t want to keep one of my students from attending a program required for his release from prison, but I also couldn’t understand why it had to be scheduled during our class meeting time. The more I requested clarification on the scheduling conflicts, the more the conflicts seemed to occur. Not getting any clarification on the scheduling,( belligerent teachers don’t need clarification), I had no choice but to let it work itself out, and I did not prevent my students from attending. They would be completed in six weeks, and could make up the time in my class when they returned. A total win win, but a boondoggle for prison education statistics.
. After seeing the room across the hall from me occupied all week long, I was surprised to see the room empty. However, the double doors to the room were wide open and the lights were off. I was wrapping up my class with only my tutors in my room as we went over what we would work on with the afternoon class. I approached the room across the hall to shut the doors, when all of a sudden a table was dropped on it side blocking the doors entry and at the same time a command came out to me from inside the room “to get out or I’ll slit this bitches throat!” I could not see anyone and I figured they must be on the floor behind the table. My first reaction was to pull my body alarm but I didn’t need to. Our School Officers rushed the room from the doors in an opposite hallway and the scenario was brought to an immediate end. It was only a practice. A practice?
.The prison administration staged the event to see how the school personnel and officers would react under the stress of a real hostage taking scenario. It was theater at its worst, or best, depending on your place in the prison management hierarchy. Regardless, my heart and mind registered the incident as stressful. I thought for sure one of our female staff had been grabbed, assaulted, and could possibly be killed. It was the first time I would actually feel a pressure in my chest. It would not be the last. Prison Stories To Be Continued…
.He didn’t know. How could he. She wasn’t clear on her instructions. She never was. I believe she was flying by the seat of her pants and had no idea what she was doing. She was a rookie but would never admit it. She had the backing of all the people who mattered. They didn’t know either. It became the nature of the civil service to promote friends and family. The actual brain trust was gone, departing for other spaces, or places unknown. Some voluntarily and still others not so voluntarily. She would eventually succumb to the latter, but for now, her mayhem would continue. He was told to bring in files she had transported from another correctional facility. They were in her car and he might need a cart. He wondered why didn’t she just bring them in? So, like the good subordinate he was, he took a cart, and met her at the vehicle. It was loaded with boxes. Boxes and boxes and boxes of files.
.It was obvious to him she didn’t load the vehicle. The cart he brought was inadequate. She didn’t know. How could she? They stared at each other not saying anything. The silence making them both uncomfortable, she began to mumble. Having worked in the inner city before being hired as an academic teacher here, he understood the mumble. She didn’t have any idea on how all these boxes were going to make it in to the school but ” he” would make it happen. Today! The mumble was clear. She laughed and left him standing there as she disappeared back into the Administration Building. I ran into him in the parking lot as I was going out to make a phone call on my break. (we were not allowed to have our cell phones in side the security perimeter) He didn’t look happy. He explained what he was just assigned to do and I can’t say I wasn’t surprised. However, I was really surprised he understood the assignment through the mumble.
.She was the administrations’ assigned guru for special education, and in their mind she would make things right. She knew the law. That didn’t help him at all. He wondered how he could get this done in one trip. He told me he believes it is about 20 boxes, and they had some weight to them. My suggestion was to borrow a John Deer Gator from our maintenance department and bring them in through the sally port. He took me up on my suggestion. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day but when we were punching out at the end of our class day he thanked me. I asked him if “he checked the boxes actual content?” He gave me a quizzical look. I asked him, “whose name is on the manifest of the boxes being brought in?” He informed me that it was our bosses, and he made a copy of the manifest. He knew exactly what I was getting at. I didn’t have to tell him to keep that documentation. He already knew he may need it, and for me asking, he was obliged. ..Prison Stories To Be Continued..
.He wasn't the brightest star in the east but he still flickered. It was easy to see how he could be set up, and he was. He ended up being the product of a scheme hatched by wanna be gangbangers. I would find out about his story from one of my tutors who grew up with him in his neighborhood. My tutor said his life was threatened many times by the same wannabe gangsters. He believed they were the devil incarnate. Their hearts cold and evil. They wanted to be accepted by a notorious gang on the east side of the city, and used his friend Donny to do it. He would be their look out. Donny was described as being as dumb as a box of rocks. Unfortunately for Donny, they robbed and killed the neighborhood paper boy. A real accomplishment. The community was up in arms and someone would have to pay.
He wasn't thinking to clearly when the police picked him up and took him in for questioning. He was stunned to be implicated by his friends and told the police he wasn't in the area. They had other witnesses that claimed he was there. He went to trial with a public defender and needless to say he was found guilty. Donny was totally betrayed. My tutor informed me that he didn't have a mean bone in his body, and took his betrayal hard. I found that to be true. My introduction to Donny was his taking the GED exams. His academic teacher was intent on getting him his GED, because Donny had unfortunately been labeled an imbecile by his peers. The teacher believed he was anything but stupid and would help him get his diploma.
I remember giving him one test at a time and within a period of a just under five years he ended up with his GED. He was totally elated. I think he was happier knowing that he would not have to test again, and feel the sting of defeat. He passed. He would go on to become the first paroled juvenile lifer under Governor Granholm's administration. He was also part of our Academic and Vocational ceremony graduation and I know my colleague was proud of him. He said so. Donnie served 39 years for a murder he didn't commit. His church group was essential in a letter writing campaign based on getting him released. It worked and he was released. My friend working at the Oakland Livingston Human Service Agency kept me informed on how Donny was doing. He was living at home with his mom and working two jobs. He still couldn't believe he was free. .. Prison Stories To be Continued.......
.For my students, the battle to do good is just that, a battle. It is just as hard in prison as it is in the world to do good continuously, and for all the right reasons. In trying to correct my students thinking I would always be reminded by them that the world does not run fairly. I agreed with that but I would add, “that doesn’t give you the right to break the law in pursuing of what you decide to be fair.” Usually, that got me a blank stare and no response. My students view that they would get what was due them was always a one way approach to life. I kept pointing out that when you combine the “what I am owed” with “I’m going to get mine,” that would usually end up in a long prison sentence. Unfortunately, with some of them, self evaluations were not completed regularly, or based in reality. They seemed to be heroes in their own demise, being the victims of their predator mentality, and then making victims of those deemed weaker. Some would find the answers to fix their damaged integrity, and mend the relationship fences they destroyed while being assholes. Still others went on to become bigger assholes. Sometime you just can’t fix stupid.
.I expected my tutors to have integrity, and for the most part they could be relied on to due the right thing. However, on occasion I would have an out layer. On one hot August morning while supervising the garden work my students were completing, they began updating their journals and turning in their garden tools. I had only two long handle cultivators to account for. A student and one of my newly hired tutors were having and animated discussion in the garden. I reminded them it was time to start wrapping it up, and as I began walking towards them I watched in horror as they swung their long handle cultivators at each others faces with the clang of the sharpened iron prongs interlocking inches from their heads. Only their strength prevented the other from inflicting a devastating wound. In shock, I was able to grab both tools and rip them out of their hands. I used the handle of the one tool to hit my tutor in his fat ass and told them both to “get inside my classroom NOW!
.Once inside my classroom I completely went berserk as I realized how wrong this could have gone had one of those tools found their mark. They knew they messed up bad and would only look at the floor. Once I collected my thought process, I informed them they have now officially lost any garden privilege they had. They would only be allowed clerk responsibilities, and I expected them to write a term paper, while my students completed their assignments in the garden, on what this program means to them and the negative consequence of their actions. I figured if they were really interested in the program they would complete what I had asked of them. I was amazed later that the tutor took full responsibility for the incident and appreciated me not writing a ticket. After speaking with the student I allowed him back into the garden, he completed his garden project, passed the exams, and graduated from the class. I would eventually allow the tutor to help us winterize the garden for next years crop. He was truly remorseful, and his term paper showed it. I told him to hold on to it it, and any time he loses his temper again, reread it. Prison Stories To be Continued…
. Most of my students were dedicated and worked hard to attain their certifications. Still a small minority didn’t give a rats ass and were waiting to be paroled. The sooner the better, and to my surprise they were released. It became a viscous cycle. Released, reoffend, and return was what I witnessed throughout my career. They were defiant, and claimed to be persecuted political prisoners. I always informed them their victims were the ones persecuted, and pointed that out to them. That usually got me a snarl. They didn’t last long in my class and I was surprised to see them paroled. They hadn’t completed any of their requirements to be released, but the department let them go. I learned later that the sanctions of their parole was to complete all requirements they hadn’t completed in school. As much as I could tell, by looking at their school files, that never happened. They reoffended before completing any sanction. Most didn’t even make an attempt.
.The MDOC Education Administration decided they would no longer let students without a high school diploma or GED certification enroll in vocational programming. Students returning from reoffending were no longer allowed to reenroll in vocational programing without proof of having a graduation certification. I can’t tell you how many times I heard them run their mouths about how they were now being oppressed by not being allowed to enroll in vocational programming. It was simple. I would inform them. The department has produced the data on recidivism, and found that those inmates with a GED or high school diploma were more likely not to return to prison. They were once again on the wrong side of the data this time. Then the department issued another policy directive, based on a recent legislative initiative, that basically informed inmates they had to have a GED to be paroled. This one piece of legislation was enough to start filling the prison schools with students.
.I had heard of many successes with the implementation of that legislation. I had encouraged my students returning to Detroit to make sure they got in touch with Focus Hope. They taught machining skills and would find them immediate employment once they finished the machining CNC classes. I had heard from the teachers at Focus Hope who thanked me for sending them their way. I also had a student who was very sharp, and not only received his GED but had graduated from my class as well. I was able to set him up with a program that was started on the east side of Detroit for recovering addicts and he would have been my first graduate to place in a work program. Unfortunately, upon his release he caught the bus for a mall in Southfield, returned to Detroit, and cut off his tether. He had officially absconded. He was later rearrested in a crack house not far from were he was to begin working. I was totally exasperated. Once again questioning why I chose to teach, and especially teach here? I had an MBA and felt I could have done something better than teach! It would be awhile before I could shake that feeling. ..Prison Stories To Be Continued…
MJ-Way 