Naked Men!!!

I was only working half a day that Thursday morning.  I had a doctor appointment that afternoon, and then we were headed for a weekend of fun in Vacaville.

I had a session from the Reception Center.  (These were inmates directly from the county jails who had not been classified yet.)  They had to be escorted over by correctional officers,  and when they were finished in the library I called to have the officers return and escort them back to their building.

When the officers returned for the inmates, I noticed that instead of the usual two officers, there were at least four.  I opened the door, and the first officer said, "We need to strip search these inmates so you'll need to step out, mam."  I stepped outside in the blazing sun and wondered what the heck was going on.  Shortly afterwards, my three inmate clerks were escorted out of the library, in handcuffs, down to the program office.  I was confused and concerned.  One of the officers told me he would explain it all when they were finished.

After the completion of the strip search, the reception center inmates were returned to their building.  One of the officers, who is a friend, came over and asked me, "Do the inmates just come over here to do legal research?"  I told him, "No, they come to check out recreational reading books."  He said, "Oh, okay.  We were wondering why one of the inmates who has only 40 days to the house (which means he's going home) wanted to come to the library.  There has been a problem in that building with tobacco and we thought maybe there was tobacco being passed in the library."  Fortunately, no tobacco was found on any of the inmates, including my clerks.  I shudder to think if there had been because then I probably would have been under suspicion.

That being cleared up I then had another concern.  I had the awful image of nasty, naked men in my library.  Granted I didn't see them but I knew they were there.

When my inmate clerks returned, they were angry about the incident as they had been strip searched down in the program office.  I let them grump about it for a few minutes.  Then I told them, "Okay, I understand and I'm sorry that it happened.  However, I am dealing with the images in my mind of nasty naked men in the library."  One of my clerks, knowing my love of actor Mark Harmon, said, "What if it were Mark Harmon naked in the library?"  I replied, "Well, that's a different story."  He then asked, "If they told you to step out so they could strip search Mark Harmon, would you go?"  I said, "Heck no, I'd make them go."

We all had a good laugh, and I think we all felt better. 

The Princess and the Alarm

For the last couple months my personal alarm has been somewhat of an enemy to me.  Three times I've accidentally set it off with costly consequences.  The unwritten rule is that anyone accidentally setting off their alarm must buy donuts for the cops responding.  I don't mind doing this, but the frequency of late has alarmed me (pun intended).

Yesterday I had a trouble-making inmate and the consequence for him was my purposely setting off my personal alarm.   Approximately 20-30 custody staff responded and there was one less inmate in my library.  Because the group I had in the library was a "special" group, I had no clerks.  Of course, when my clerks reported to work they wanted to know why I had pushed my alarm.  I gave them the bare facts.

Later in the day, one of my clerks pulled a book off the shelf about Queen Noor.  She was an American who married the King of Hussein.  He asked me if anyone had actually read the book.  I told him that I had once assigned the book to an inmate who wanted a job.  I told said inmate that if he read the book and did a book report, I would "consider" hiring him.  He took the book, but I never got a report.

I then told my clerks that I thought it was sad that my husband had married a princess but there was no book written nor even a movie produced about our lives.  One of my clerks then asked me, "Does your husband know that the princess sets off alarms?"  LOL! 

The moral of this story . . . I really don't know!

The Corner???

I have a new rule.  If the "F Bomb" is dropped in my library, it's ten pushups for the first offense, with increases of five for each additional offense.  Today I had an inmate doing pushups and, while he was doing them, another inmate told me, "I wouldn't be able to do pushups."
"Why?" I asked.
He replied, "I have bad wrists." 
"I'll find something else for you to do."
He quickly replied that he couldn't do squats either.
I told him, "That's okay, you can stand in the corner for 10 minutes."
My words must have had a magical healing effect because he then stated, "It's alright, I can do pushups."
I wanted to point out to him that his not dropping the "F Bomb" would be a preventative measure for his doing pushups, but I didn't.  Let him figure that out on his own.

A Lesson in "NO"

The other day I had a session with several inmates still housed in the Reception Center.  Some of them are very new to prison; others are "frequent flyers."  One particular inmate asked for a copy from the Penal Code.  I usually do not copy pages but direct them to a pen/pencil and a sheet of paper.  This inmate indicated that he had learning disabilities and needed to have his cellie help him understand.  So I copied the page.  After I called for the officer(s) to come escort the inmates back to the building, I had a couple inmates say they wanted to get some paper.  I told them it was too late to process their Trust Account Withdrawals as custody was on their way.  The "learning-disabled" inmate said he needed it to practice his letters.  Haha!  I told him he was welcome to take a few sheets of scratch paper (recycled).  He said, "But there's words on one side."  I replied, "Turn it over to the blank side."  He then said, "But the words will show through and I'll be confused.  Remember, I have learning disabilities."  I knew he was trying to "manipulate" me into selling or giving him blank paper.  I went up to the counter and said, "Okay.  You say you have learning disabilities.  Let me start with teaching you the meaning of the word NO!"  He laughed and said, "Good one!"  He then gave up the battle and went and sat down.  LOL!!!

That 115 Look

Our libraries are set up with a bank of windows along the hallway going to the education classrooms.  The drinking fountain is just outside the library door.  When inmates are on break they migrate to the drinking fountain.  Though there are signs on the window stating that they could receive a "115" (a Rules Violation Report) for attempting to communicate with library attendees, we must remember that inmates are not in prison for following rules.  Today there was a young man in the library who looked very familiar.  I observed him for a bit and then asked him, "Are you the young man I always notice in the hallway during school?"  He looked a little sheepish and said, "Ummmm, yeah."  I then remembered that this was one of several inmates who attempted to communicate with library inmates until I caught them, at which point they run back to their class.   I then asked this particular inmate, "Why do you always run when I look at you?"  He replied, "Because you have that 115 look on your face."  I laughed, as did my inmate clerks as well as other inmates in the library.  I'm so glad I can scare those inmates with just a look!

Time Outs Work For Inmates Too

Yesterday I had a session of Reception Center (RC) inmates . . . eleven of them!  That's more than I usually have, but with the RC normally they are gone before you can get them scheduled.   Within a minute or less of their arrival, I heard the "F" word four times.  Actually, I heard it once before they all got through the door.  Honestly, many of them don't even realize they say it.  I told them up front that the word wasn't allowed but, again, they don't even realize they say it.  I knew it was going to be a crazy time, but they were all young inmates and respectful to me so I knew that humor would be my best approach.  A group of three sat on one side of the room and chatted the whole time.  The "F" word slipped out quite a bit, but they quickly pointed fingers at each other, laughingly, and apologized to me.  I could only laugh, as did most of the other eight inmates.  At one point, I took a wadded up piece of paper and threw it at them, missing, but causing laughter throughout the room.  A bit later, after another bad word slipped out of someone's mouth I told them they should bang their heads together. Two of them actually did, causing more laughter!  Those three boys, really they were just boys, continued to laugh and talk and slip out that nasty word.  Finally, towards the end of the session, I told one of them that he was out of control and needed a time out.  I sent him to a corner, and told him to face the wall.  He did, but he continued to talk and told me that when he was a little boy his mother would send him to time out but that it never worked.  I believed him.  When custody staff came for them, the officer asked if they'd behaved.  I told him that I had to put one on time out but it didn't seem to help.  One of the crazy three said, "She threw paper at us, and banged our heads together!"  The officer laughed and said, "So you want to come back next week?"  They all laughed and said, "YES!"  If they put in a request to come back, of course they'll be called, but not those three together!! 

Back To The Future?

A new inmate clerk was assigned to my library a few weeks back.  When he first walked in, I felt a moment of fear.  He looked a bit scary to me, almost like he might not want to be there.  I asked him, "Do you want to work here?"  He said that he was fine with the job.  Okay!  Let's get to it.  I introduced him to the senior clerk, who is actually about 20 plus years YOUNGER.  The new clerk informed me that he had NEVER touched a computer, having "been down" for more than 25 years.   Alrighty!  A few days later, he was repairing some books.  I handed him a glue stick.   He said, "What's this?"  My eyes got big, and then I remembered that he had been down for a long time.  I told him, "A glue stick."  He said, "Oh, okay," and continued working using the glue stick seemingly with ease.  A few days later, he again was using the glue stick.  About half an hour later, I heard him exclaim, "Wow, that's cool!"  I looked up and he was looking at me incredulously, then said, "I didn't know it did that!"  He had discovered that the bottom of the glue stick turned and the glue moved upwards.  He then told me that he had been dipping his finger into the glue and then to the books to make the repairs.  I must have looked as crazy as he did, because we both burst out laughing hysterically.  He looks much less scary when he laughs, by the way.  And he has proven already to be a hard worker and fast learner.  One can't judge a book by the cover, right?  Anyway, this experience iwth the glue stick has reminded me of the many times I've wondered what my ancestors would think should they come visit for an hour or two and see all the changes since their life. 

Who Is He?

Yesterday, inmate John Smith* came to the library.  He presented legal documents and requested copies.  I looked at the documents and noted that the name on them was David Brown*.  I said to him, "Who is David Brown?"  He replied that it was him.  I then asked him, "Who is John Smith?"  He replied that he, too, was John Smith.  I expressed confusion.  He said that when he was arrested he was going by John Smith but he was really David Brown.  I asked him if anyone else knew that, and he said that custody knew.  So I called his building and asked one of my favorite officers what she knew about John Smith and David Brown being one and the same.  She only knew him by John Smith.  I then called the program office and asked the sergeant what he knew about this mysterious inmate.   He input the inmate's CDCR number into his computer to check for any aliases.  None.  Not a one.  California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation only knows him as John Smith.  I then told the inmate that I could not copy the documents as they had the wrong name on it.  He needed to prove he was David Brown and not John Smith.   He asked me how he could do that . . . hmmmm . . . the truth always works,  I thought but didn't say.   He was polite and didn't blame me for his predicament, which was unusual for an inmate.  As he was leaving the library, I told him that when he figured out who he was to let me know and perhaps his documents could be copied.  He said that he knew who he was, but didn't seem to want o share that with me at that time.  Are John Smith and David Brown one and the same?  Who really knows besides John Smith, David Brown and his/their mother(s).

*name changed to protect the guilty

Pushups!!!

Wednesday, an inmate suggested that when an inmate uses that naughty F word, he should be made to do push-ups.  Hmmmmm . . . great idea!  So the very next morning, an inmate was insructed to do 10 push-ups.  He said, "Really?!?!"  I said, "REALLY!"   Ten push-ups it was.  No one else that day had to do push-ups.  Yesterday, I was on another yard where the inmates are all on lock down so they were escorted over and remained in waist restraints.  The morning group was fine.  The afternoon group . . . sheesh guys!!!  I couldn't really make them do them on the floor so I made them do them at the counter.  One guy thought I couldn't count or maybe wasn't paying attention.  When he finished, I looked at him and said, "Three more!"  His eyes were incredulous, and he went back to the counter and did three more.  I did have one scrawny inmate say to me that it was unconstitutional, cruel and unusual punishment.  "Perhaps if you exercised more push-ups would be easy and not a punishment."  He shut up. 

Beauty Advice??

One of the yards I work on is the "Sensitive Needs Yard."  It's comprised of gang dropouts, gays, wanna-be girls, and other unmentionables.  Just before Christmas I went to see my miracle worker (hairstylist).  My yucky gray hair with a variety of home-coloring attempts at beauty was transformed into a cute style with blond and gold highlights over a dark background.  Yesterday an inmate told me, "Ms. D, that hair color doesn't look good."  "Oh really," I said.  He said, "Yeah, you should go for auburn."  "Really?" (Said with my cute little sarcastic tone.) "And you need to use Head and Shoulders."  "Really, do I have dandruff?"  "No, but you have split ends and Head and Shoulders works best for split ends."  He then went on to say he worked in the beauty industry on the streets.  I just wrinkled my brow at him and walked away.  But I have to say that I am intrigued about adding auburn to my hair and even trying Head and Shoulders.  What do you all think?

Firetruck!

I have a rule in my library that if it starts with F and ends in U C K, the only acceptable word is Firetruck.  I have this printed on bright yellow paper and posted in several spots in the library.   It amazes the inmates that I may appear to not be listening and that word pops out of their mouth directly to my ears.  I tell them I have "mom ears."  The regulars have been heard to say, "Firetruck!" on more than one occasion.  I even have some of the officers say it when I'm within hearing distance.  Today I noticed that an inmate had F U C K tattooed on his knuckles.  I told him that he knew that particular word was not allowed in the library, and he would have to cut off his fingers before he came back again.  I don't think he believed me!  LOLOLOL! 

Not Your Fairy Godmother

Today an inmate, a "frequent flyer," needed copies, envelopes, etc.  He completed the necessary paperwork to have the money deducted from his trust account.  Then he asked me to call and find out if he had money on his books.  As it turned out, he did.  He said that he had sent a request to have the money sent to family or friend, and expressed dismay that it hadn't.  Then, without actually asking me, he hinted at my holding the trust withdrawals until that money had been sent.  I just looked at him.  He said, "Can't you grant my wish?"  I looked at him and said, "I am not your fairy godmother."  He tried again later, and again I said, "I am not your fairy godmother."  Silly inmate!!! 

Converations With Inmates

Because the yard I worked on today is on lock down, all inmates had to be escorted, one on one, to and from the library.  This afternoon I was left with one very young inmate, about 22 or 23, while the rest of the group was escorted back to their buildings and one of the officers could return for him.  He's working on his case, and has been to the library every week for a few weeks.  He is always very respectful and laughs at my jokes (or attempts at jokes). 

He has been in prison since he was 18.  He has tattoos on his head, neck, hands and who knows were else (who wants to know).  I asked him if it had hurt when he received the tattoos on his head.  He told me they didn't, but that those on his neck did.  He also expressed regret at ever having gotten them, and wished they could be removed because he knew that people looked at him differently.  We had a brief discussion about how some people respond to being served their dinner at a restaurant by someone with tattoos on their neck and knuckles.

I asked him if he'd be paroling anytime soon, and he said only if he could get another chance in court.  He said that the District Attorney didn't want him back on the street.  I told him that the "people" probably didn't want him back on the street either.  He replied that I was probably right, and then said that he just got caught up in the wrong crowd.  I replied, "Everyone thinks they got caught up in the wrong crowd.  If that's so, then who really is the 'wrong crowd'?"  He was quiet for a minute and then said, "I guess I should be honest and say that I was both.  I got caught up in the wrong crowd, but I was also the wrong crowd." Honest insight from a very young inmate.  It takes many others a lot longer to have such insight. 

It makes my mother's heart sad at times when I meet these young men who have already thrown their lives away by the choices they make.  Some of them really have the potential to be productive citizens.  But too many times, it's too late for them. 

Nothing

I decorated a bit; don't you love that bright background? 

It has been somewhat of an uneventful week.  I am currently running two libraries:  Bravo Yard and Charlie Yard.  Charlie Yard is on lockdown, but I can still schedule inmates.  They have to be escorted over and remain in waist restraints.  I always forget they're in waist restraints.  I've been known to throw a bottle of white-out at an inmate in waist restraints.  Ooooops! 

It's been a pretty low-key week.  It's  pretty stressful running two libraries, so I really need the low key. 

Stay tuned!

The Beginning

I never thought I would work in a prison.  Yes, work in, not live in.  I don't know why I thought that.  Maybe because criminals were scary.  But in 1997 I started working at a Level IV prison in Northeastern California as a medical transcriptionist and then an office technician (the State of California's version of a secretary).  None of those jobs had too much inmate contact, though I did supervise the inmates who cleaned our building when I worked in Mental Health.

In March 2007, looking for a bit more money and to get away from a cranky supervisor,  I became a Library Technical Assistant, which is somewhat of a misnomer.  Most days I feel like I'm babysitting someone's delinquent children.  Wait, I am!  My job is to manage an inmate library, with three inmate clerks assigned to me, and up to eight (albeit sometimes more) inmates using the library to work on their appeals or to find yet another way to sue the State of California.  Once in a while someone will actually want to read a book other than legal.

I have no "custody" experience and certainly no formal custody training unless you count the annual training we are forced to endure.   I am alone with these guys all day, without a cop. I have an alarm should I need immediate help.  Mostly, I rely on my training as a mom and my sense of humor. 

I never thought of doing a blog about my days in prison.  I have amused people with some of the experiences I have had, and it was suggested I write them down.  A friend suggested a blog.  So here I am.

Now that I've made my introduction, I'll work on prettying this place up.  I wish I could remember some of the stories from the past four years of working with inmates, but I assure you that there will be more to come.