Mailed 4/16/2012
I’ve had a lot of guys, especially recently, approach me about veganism. They’ll mention that I am in good shape and look healthy, so they want that too, “Teach me about being vegan” they’ll say, But I usually discourage them. It’s the Jewish way when the rabbi discourages a potential convert at first before accepting a new pupil. I’ll tell them becoming vegan in prison would be hard, very hard. Food options are extremely limited. It’s a struggle for me. It’s not a struggle for me staying vegan. The hard part is not having more than 5 meal options to eat day after day. I often hunger just for something different. So going from a plethora of meat options to a super limited diet would take immense will power.. If someone was serious, they they’ll fight past my discouragement. If they can’t will themselves past that, there’s no chance they could survive a prison vegan diet. The blessing is the seeds that are being planted. Once on the streets, a change to veganism is so much easier nowadays. So maybe our influence will yield future fruits.
So their footsteps are getting heavier and heavier and it hurts because they’re beginning to sound like men walking through the house, they’re beginning to sound like you…
Laviyah
(Source: thesmithian)
11/15/2011
I saw a man die yesterday. His name was Mr. Pinkleton. He was 44 years old. I’ve seen “death” a thousand times through television, movies, and the news. I’ve heard of deaths in prison. This is the first time I ever witnessed a death and truthfully, I’m kinda freaked out by it. I’ve been in a state of mental numbness. It’s hard to explain. I feel saddened, maybe melancholy, a sort of heaviness inside of me. I feel like I have no feelings. I’ve just been going through the motions of the day. This would be a time I would spend wrapped in the love and arms of children. The times I feel my weakest, my children revive my strength.
Mr. Pinkleton wasn’t beaten to death, fortunately. However, to me, the circumstances of his death were seemingly worse. His official cause of death- a heart attack. Yesterday was “Yard Day”: Yard Day occurs once a year. The prison organizes events, music and food for the inmates. The main focus for inmates is the food. Inmates are served a large meal for lunch which is followed by a second large meal that is served on a first come-first serve basis.
I was standing outside the cafeteria in line for the second meal when Mr. Pinkleton passed out. He fell on the lawn across from the cafeteria about 20 yards away from where I was standing. He was unconscious. The sight I can only relate to football when a player gets hit in the head, body goes limp and lies on the ground with his arms stiff in the air. Mr. Pinkleton was laying on his back with his left arm sticking straight out from his side, stiff and about 3 inches off the ground.
In prison, everyone is basically desensitized to any happenings that take place around them. You see a fight, you walk on by; you hear a female C.O. being verbally abused by an inmate, you walk on by; you see a C.O. rough housing an inmate, you walk on by. So, no shock that inmates glanced at Mr. Pinkleton on the ground and walked on by. Most comments from those standing around me were “Ah, man, he’s had too much hooch or drugs.”
A couple of staff members appeared and basically stood around him. One of the staff kept lifting the stiff arm up and letting it fall…like that was of any assistance. While staff gathered to spectate Mr. Pinkleton, inmates acted like starved animals and were cutting in line, pushing and shoving to get more food. I was sandwiched between two scenes of degradation. One side, a man collapses; is ignored by the general population and is being surrounded by a staff of inaction and unconcern. The other side, near chaos to get as much food as possible.
I was in the food line for about 40 minutes. From beginning to end, I moved no more than 30 yards. All the while, I see inmate after inmate get a food tray then cut back in line to get another tray. Then more inmates push their way from behind me to get their food sooner. I was embarrassed and saddened for this mentality. No personal pride, no self-respect and definitely no respect for anyone else. I wasn’t upset or angered by those jumping in line ahead of me. My soul was hurt from the realization of the mentality that exists. Grown men acting like children. Hoarding food that can’t possibly be eaten in one day and can’t be refrigerated for the next day.
Grown men acting this selfishly while another man lay unconscious. Medical staff arrived about 10 minutes after Mr. Pinkleton’s collapse. At this point, they finally proceeded with a more formal examination and called for an ambulance. The medical staff began the process of CPR, but a female staff member actually stopped to consider if she wanted to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation on Mr. Pinkleton. She decided she didn’t want to and told a male staffer to do it.
The medical “emergency” is nearly 15 minutes old and staff is debating doing their job. The ambulance arrived about 20 minutes after the collapse and took over the resuscitation efforts.
Mr. Pinkleton was not revived. Whether efforts to assist him could ever have been beneficial are unknown. My biggest concern was the sheer slowness and apathy for ever being of any help. Unfortunately the catch phrase for prison staff is “if you don’t like it, you shouldn’t come to prison”. Humanity and common good are checked in at the door.
I’m doing my best to keep mine. I treat all I come into contact with respect. I have been greatly desensitized to a lot of foul behavior that occurs constantly around me. Maybe that’s the heaviness I feel. Have I lost some of my tenderness? Have I lost some of my concern? Prison is a reformatory and a corrective rehabilitation center. Well, I’m fighting to remain me.
-Nahum
Received 11/13/2011
I figured I would take a break from writing about the constant negatives that occur around me here in prison. There are often times that I marvel at what people do and wonder what they are thinking. Every once and a while I can’t help but laugh at a situation.
First I would like to gross you all out with a couple of bathroom experiences. If you recall, there is a shared toilet, shower and sink area for 250 men per unit. I’m in the sink area one day brushing my teeth and a dude walks up to a sink, drops his pants and starts washing his junk in the sink. Needless to say I was flabbergasted. What is this dude thinking? The showers were open. He just washed his unit and left. Nothing else. No armpits, not the crack of his ass, just balls. Maybe he had a secret rendezvous and was pressed for time. This is the place I brush my teeth. The last thing I want is to accidently splash nut cheese residue on me.
Speaking of gagging. The next phenomenon is the amount of guys that gag themselves while brushing their teeth or rather their tongues. Every morning you can hear a chorus of chokes gags and spit. I understand it is recommended to brush your tongue as well as your teeth. I don’t recall the recommendation to brush the back of the throat. What are they thinking? Do they enjoy the gag reflex? If you feel your breath is that bad, brushing that far and hard is not going to improve things. It is bad enough that they do this every single morning. It is worst that I have to hear this every single morning. Ugh!
A more humorous bathroom story occurred last week. I went on a day trip to Columbus, OH. I am being checked for a severe hernia I have. In Columbus there is a medical prison where inmates receive consultation on health issues and those with more severe medical conditions are housed. For day trips, we are kept in a waiting room. While in the waiting room, I met an 82 year old man. I’m not sure what he was being treated for, but he was given a shake of liquid and couldn’t relieve himself until after his exam. Well after he came back from his exam he shuffled with his walker to the bathroom. The bathroom is an open room attached to the waiting room. Once settled inside all you heard was bombs and explosions of relief. It was like a human rendition of 4th of July fireworks or a recreation of some great battlefield drama. When his orchestration was complete he shuffled out with the smile of a child. Besides the obvious internal relief he felt, he also is due to get out of prison this coming February. He has been locked up for almost 30 years, yet he talked of leaving like a young man. It was nice to see his eyes full of hope and excitement for a life away from prison’s degradation.
An image that took me by surprise-pink sheets. There’s a gay guy (if that wasn’t already obvious) who used cherry Kool-Aid to dye his white sheets pink. He is one with a flamboyant in your face personality. He always wears a color coordinated athletic ensemble with a white headband. Accordingly he has acquired the nickname Wimbledon but he is also known as Sparkly Sprite.
One of the most irritating sites I see day in and day out-sagging pants. Why, why, why, why, why!? What is the purpose? There are so many guys here, young and old, who wear their pants below their asses. It’s just gross. Nobody wants to see your underwear. At least I have absolutely no desire to. What makes it worse is that some of these guys don’t wash their clothes often, so their displaying their dingy brown draws. I have no clue how, when, why or who started this. But, Lord, I wish it was never started. Can somebody who is hip and cool, gangsta or whatever please convince these fools to stop flashing their tightly whities at me? Please!
While on the topic of clothing, there are two major sins in the Ohio Penitentiary System; Untucked shirts and wearing hats indoors. You can do drugs, drink hooch, fight and steal to your heart’s content, but never under any circumstances wear a hat inside or think about having your shirt untucked. Guards see these clothing violations a thousand feet away, will blow their whistle and threaten drastic repercussions if not immediately corrected. Yet somehow these same guards can never seem to stop a fight or discipline an addict. Rest assured everyone, thanks to the great State of Ohio; I will never ever commit the audacious act of wearing a hat indoors or walk around with a flap of shirt improperly shown. I’ve learned my lesson. Can I leave now?
-Nahum
Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, you go into surgery. It’s ironic that bc you’re under the care of the state they have to take care of your pre-existing medical condition that requires surgery…
You’ve needed surgery since I have known you, yet you always put it off to take care of everyone else. Funny how prison is forcing you to address your own needs instead of the needs of others…
I love you. Be safe, be strong. Transcend.
-Laviyah
The tears I shed, I forgive.
The suffering and disappointments, I forgive.
The betrayals and lies, I forgive.
The slandering and scheming, I forgive.
The hatred and persecution, I forgive.
The punches that were given, I forgive.
The shattered dreams, I forgive.
The dead hopes, I forgive.
The disaffection and jealousy, I forgive.
The indifference and ill will, I forgive.
The injustice in the name of justice, I forgive.
The anger and mistreatment, I forgive.
The neglect and oblivion, I forgive.
The world with all its evil, I forgive.
Grief and resentment, I replace with understanding and agreement.
Revolt, I replace with music that comes from my violin.
Pain I replace with oblivion.
Revenge, I replace with victory.
I will be able to love above all discontentment.
To give even when I am stripped of everything.
To work happily even when I find myself in the midst of all obstacles.
To dry tears even when I am still crying.
To believe even when I am discredited.
