MJ-Way

.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…

.When our prison merged with a closed prison located in the city we had an immediate rise in positive inmate drug tests. The staff could be drug tested at random and I wasn’t privy to that information but inmate positive drug tests I was made aware of as a teacher. I ended up losing two tutors who tested positive, and of course I would always be suspected of trafficking, and tested randomly. I felt it was just something that came with the job. I didn’t blame anyone for the moniker. Working inside a prison we were all suspects. The craftiness of the smugglers never failed to amaze me, and the prison administration did its’ best to keep the drugs out. The largest find was a sixteen ounce Mountain Dew pop bottle filled with white powder that tested positive for cocaine. It was found by officers along the fence line as they made their rounds testing the alarm system.

.Someone tried throwing it over the fence but it fell short. When I was informed about that find I wondered what else made it over the fence? Over the span of my career our Athletics Director would always show me ways other prisons would capture drugs making their way into the prison. He was privy to the reports/pictures usually through emails and he showed me how the prisons were basically under attack by smugglers. Anything that was delivered to the prison from its’ vendors was a vector for traffickers. In the Northern prisons the yards backed up to forests, some of the Southern prisons bordered farm land, and the urban prisons in the middle of neighborhoods, all provided opportunities for smuggling. The yards would have to be checked for anything out of place. Thinking of all the vectors drugs could make it into the prison is truly mind boggling, and greed a major motivation for doing it.

.It didn’t surprise me then when the siren sounded and we had to evacuate the yards. The school was closed and all prisoners returned to their housing units. We were once again on official lock down. We were not allowed to leave the school and attendance was taken to see who was here. The volunteers were rounded up and escorted out of the school by an officer. We new something serious must have happened. The officers were not saying anything and that usually meant this was very serious. We saw two Michigan State Police cars on our perimeter road, along with the county sheriff, and our own facility officers. They began checking the fences and a crew of officers were checking the inside fences. A group of officers were searching the big yards. We were then informed by our supervisor that drones were spotted over the prison. A violation of our air space above the prison. The prison would remain on lock down until the yards were cleared. This technology would pose a new threat to the prisons security. A brand new vector for smuggling or what ever nefarious activity a drone could be programmed for. >>>Prison Stories To Be Continued>>>

.He ruled the prison in the darkness. I believed him to be heaven sent. I knew he was hunting here in our gardens by his regurgitated fur balls of bones, teeth, claws, and feathers. I found them on the ground next to the housing units. We had a rodent problem which was kept in check by his insatiable eating habits. Rats, mice, voles, birds, and rabbits would meet him for the last time becoming his regurgitated burp. Our produce was well protected. He perched on the housing units roof top ledges and only came out at night. The prison was lit up with security lights at night, and that’s when he would be observed by the afternoon yard officers. They said his talons scraping on the metal roof ledge was a formidable sound and a foreboding for his unexpecting prey. I would get reports of him even chasing inmates who were walking the edge of our gardens. I figured there must be a nest somewhere, and he new where the rats were.

.On a sunny summer morning I had come in early to begin setting up for the days GED testing. I didn’t make it past the chow hall before the yard sergeant motioned me over to a walkway leading between two housing units. At the end of the walkway I saw a pile of feathers. The yard sergeant explained that an owl with large yellow eyes, and talons swooped out of nowhere and grabbed a seagull. The owl had his back to the chow hall but turned his head in what seemed to be 360 degrees, a complete circle, and looked directly at the yard sergeant. The yard sergeant could not believe it. He said the owl looked at him with those big yellow eyes, as if saying to him, “you are next,” defeathered the seagull, and ate him. The owl then flew over the barb wire fences into a field surrounded by trees. I could see him at a distance perched on the top of what appeared to be a dead limb. I thought from that distance he seemed huge. The pile of feathers left on the sidewalk was confirmation of the event.

.The owl continued to hunt our gardens for over five years. On a sunny day while one of my tutors was planting a shade garden under one of our crimson king maple trees with two of our students the owl made his presence known. He looked at them, hooted, and then flew over the fences into the trees in front of the prison. They were amazed at its’ size. I didn’t hear about him until a few weeks later when our yard sergeant informed me that an owl hit his car as he was exiting the freeway for the prison. It was chasing a rabbit. In the crash the owl took off the side view mirror, cracked the window and dented the door of his jeep. He couldn’t believe the size of it but it definitely died in the collision. He picked it up and put it in his jeep. All he thought about was how good this would look mounted in his man cave.

.When he got off work he went to the local office of the Department of Natural Resources. He was hoping they would let him keep it since it crashed into his jeep. He was going to find a taxidermist and have it mounted. The DNR Officer was sympathetic, especially after seeing the damage to his jeep, but he informed him it was a protected species, even though it was now deceased. The DNR Officer wrote a report, took pictures of the damage to his jeep, confiscated the owl after taking several pictures, and handed a copy of the report back to our yard sergeant. Attached to the report was a Kodak picture of the owl. He informed our yard sergeant that was the best he could do for him. The report and pictures would help him get his jeep fixed through his insurance company.

.Our yard sergeant not wanting to seem ungrateful asked the DNR Officer if he could take one more picture of him standing next to the owl which had a bit of rigor mortis by now ?The DNR Officer propped up the owl in the corner of the room and our yard sergeant got to stand next to him for the portrait. I was hoping it was not our owl but when he showed me the DNR report, the pictures of the damage to his jeep, and the portrait picture of him with the owl, my heart sank into my stomach. It definitely looked like our owl. All I could think of was the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. The rodent population might get a whole lot worse now. It seemed selfish on my part to think like that. There should be some kind of ceremonial burial. A warrior’s burial! The yard sergeant informed me the DNR planned on having the owl mounted for one of its nature centers. So much for that. >>>Prison Stories To Be Continued>>> EPHESIANS 1: 15-23

. I was in my fifth year of teaching when our school secretary was removed from our prison school for what I would learn later was an inappropriate relationship with a prisoner. I had learned that staff having inappropriate relationships with prisoners occurs during my training, and it was considered a serious department infraction. My first thought was why? Why would you risk being involved emotionally with someone who was capable of slitting your throat? In her case, the young man she was involved with was part of a drug deal robbery-massacre, he was convicted, and sentenced to life. She was very professional, and I was completely shocked when I was informed she would not be returning. My boss was also shocked, but he had informed me that this wasn’t the first time he had seen this happen. He was quite sure it wouldn’t be his last time either.

.I would see this happen several more times before I retired. I also watched our legislature pass laws that would make it a felony for staff to have inappropriate relationships with prisoners. Mr. Lazy was pretty nonchalant about her removal and believed there were more cases in the department just like it. He could be cynical at times but this did prove to be factual. Mr. Lazy didn’t stick around. He wasn’t getting anywhere with finding a job with Parole and Probation, and accepted a managers position with a large box retailer. He had never been in a managers position before. In retail, as a manager, he would not be working an eight hour day, or just 5 days a week. I didn’t want to mention this to him and figured the experience would be enlightening for him. I didn’t see or hear about him for some time. He would need to be replaced. That would take some time to do.

. In the mean time the existing teachers absorbed his students. At the same time the GED testing was being completed on the weekends by one of our local school districts. The school officer wasn’t impressed with the teacher giving the exams, or the process. He informed me that the teacher would fall asleep, and I felt he needed to let our school principal know. That was one of the quickest personnel changes I had seen in the department. The principal, once informed, made sure a new GED examiner was assigned to our school the very same day, and he thanked our school officer for letting him know. He even gave the school officer the authority to stop the GED testing process if there were any further discrepancies. So in a matter of a couple of weeks I had witnessed some rather quick, unexpected, personnel changes. I had no idea that in a few more weeks there would be more. .. Prison Stories To Be Continued… 1 Corinthians 1:26-31

. My first education conference where I would get to meet and talk with teachers from Michigan’s 42 prison schools was incredible. It was held in Ann Arbor, Michigan, not far from the University of Michigan campus. I enjoyed being in Ann Arbor. As an executive with the Detroit Medical Center, we had listened to speakers from the University’s Ross School of Business talk on a number of health care issues. But this time I wasn’t with executives. I was with people who had dedicated their lives in wanting to make a positive difference in the lives of those incarcerated. Truly, a unique group of teachers. I was like a kid in a candy shop. There were displays on all kinds of educational tools, but what I wanted to see the most was the vocational programs prison build program. Just as I found the Administrator responsible for the prison build program, I was approached by the lazy one who wanted me to join his group, and leave the conference to go golfing with his friends. I shook my head no and received a curt rebuff from him. “You think you can really learn something here” he said sarcastically as he walked away.

.The Prison Build Administrator listened to the whole interaction and I felt obligated to explain it. However, I didn’t need to. He knew exactly who the lazy one was and how he felt about educating prisoners. He informed me that the Lazy One hangs out with the guys in Parole and Probation and is trying to become a Parole Officer. Problem for him is they don’t want him. He laughed and said,” “they know he’s lazy.” He continued to explain that they have enough problems in that department and didn’t want to add him to their case load. Wow, I thought he knew a lot more about him then I did. I didn’t see Mr. Lazy for the rest of the conference but I did get to meet and speak with teachers from all over the state of Michigan representing prison schools in both the upper and lower peninsulas. I found them to be quite interesting with their own tales to tell, but I found the Trades Instructors involved in the prison build program fascinating. They had much enthusiasm, and spoke of a program they had just become affiliated with.

.The Prison Build program was in its’ infancy. The administrator I had spoken to earlier had just signed a contract with Habitat For Humanity to build roofing trusses. They would be made to specification and then shipped to a HFH warehouse. The size of the Habitat For Humanity Build, the amount of houses being built, would determine the number of trusses they would need. I saw nothing but good things coming from this program and it evolved into much more than I’m sure was anticipated. When I met the Administrator for the first time and he explained what they were trying to achieve in the prison build program, I understood immediately what it could do for the inmate students. They could learn to become skilled carpenters. The technicalities of “apprenticeships” would have to be worked on, but a door of opportunity was being made available. Through out my career as an instructor I tried to find ways for my students to stay connected to the community. This would be one very good way. >>>Prison Stories To Be Continued>>>>

Psalm 139: 13-18

. My boss Jesse, a real motivator of men, had enough of one of our academic teachers who always seemed to have a reason on why he couldn’t do what our Principal requested. This time it was the teacher not giving the Test of Adult Basic Education to those inmates needing a GED. I found it funny that this teacher always seemed to have time to play solitaire on a computer during our preparation hour and then enjoyed a rather extended lunch. So I was surprised when Jesse asked me to lay in my class and give the TABE test. I questioned Jesse on his motives and he winked. He knew I would understand, and I immediately thanked him for giving me the opportunity to do so. This was going to be fun and I expected to get some flack from the teacher whose responsibility this was.

. At our weekly staff meeting Jesse announced I would be giving the TABE test. The teacher turned bright red and said something like ” I hope he knows what he’s doing.” I informed him I had no clue. I just wanted to contribute most positively to our schools efforts in testing inmates needing GED’s and to be placed in the appropriate class. Besides, I thought out load, “it couldn’t be any harder than playing solitaire on our schools computer.” He wasn’t happy with that response, and I believed it pissed him off. He was still bright red, looked at me once, and mumbled something looking at the floor. The other teachers just smiled. He could be a handful when he wasn’t getting his way. True to form, he stormed out of the room when our meeting was over. Jesse smiled at me and said, “thank you.” He didn’t have to say anything else.

. The following day I had laid in my class and prepared the locator tests for the prisoners who would be taking them. It was what I had expected. Prisoners telling me they weren’t going to school and refusing to test. One with tattoo’s on his neck, that informed everyone he was the killer of 13, tore his test up and left. I set up my room for 25 testing stations. That was ambitious on my part. When the testing finally started I was glad to have 18 students. I was surprised to see the teacher whose responsibility this was circle outside my classroom. I smiled at him and waved. I’m sure he witnessed the chaos. At the end of the testing session the Principal called me to his office. He informed me that I wouldn’t be giving the TABE test anymore. The teacher whose responsibility this was had provided the Principal with a schedule of when he and the other academic teacher would be TABE testing. My services were no longer needed.

. I could only laugh. “Boy, I thought I was doing pretty good, ” I said to our Principal. He smiled. I informed him I only had to write six tickets on prisoners refusing a direct order to take the test. He again smiled, and informed me he was happy I stepped up, but that I would probably here how bad I was at this process by you know who. I again laughed and let our principal know I felt I just needed to work on my delivery. Jesse again smiled and said, ” I think you have been working on your delivery for sometime. It was very effective with that lazy one.” I thanked him again for giving me the opportunity, and I let him know I would be here for back up. He shook his head. I knew I would bump heads with the lazy one again. It was inevitable. When motivated I could become a Pitbull. That lazy one provided me many opportunities to become one. ..Prison Stories To Be Continued..