It is not just the loss of freedom..it is the feeling that his humanity is slipping away..that he is becoming an animal in order to survive..he asks what kind of man will they be releasing??
It pains me to hear of your sons "experiences." In eight years that I spent in prison, I spent about eight or nine months in the hole. It changed my life forever. I still have nightmares about my experiences there. You have articulated quite well what the environment is like.
Prior to my incarceration I had been in two fights in my life in grade school for petty stuff. When I was placed in the hole for such infractions as possession of too much commisary, disrespect to an officer, and dirty ua's I found myself consumed with rage and anger toward people who could act so cruelly and inhumanely. Unfortunately, my anger manifested itself negatively; I began getting into fights with other inmates and rebelling (verbally) against the "hacks" (gaurds) who treated me like shit. The outcome of which was more time in the hole.
Here is a piece from an autobiographical essay I wrote about my experiences in the hole:
*snipped*
It is in the context of this environment that for many years I rebelled against my oppressors, and suffered the dire consequences of such actions. The "hole" is the name given by convicts for solitary confinement. It is an apt description of an environment more suitable for rabid animals than human beings. Sometimes punishment would be meted out for the smallest of infractions, such as taking five packs of sugar from the cafeteria, which equated to five days in the hole, or for a more serious offense, such as showing disrespect to an officer that would carry a fifteen day stay in the hole.
Acts of social protest were punished with even greater severity. I once spent a summer shoveling rock for fifty cents a day with the option of spending seven days in the hole for each day I didn't work. During that time I was involved in a peaceful protest that cost me dearly. It was at this same prison where we were shoveling rock, that I took part in a "food strike", wherein we refused to eat because of the extremely poor living conditions. There were very few toilets and showers and no ventilation during the sweltering summer when we arrived at this newly opened prison that had once been a state mental institution; we had no cafeteria, no gym, no library, no school, no televisions, and a recreational yard that consisted of a gravel field. We were doubled, tripled and sometimes quadrupled up in cells that were built for one or two inmates, while being fed in our cell blocks on makeshift tables. In an effort to quell this disturbance and to set an example, the administration randomly choose individual inmates who they accused of being "ringleaders" of a potential riot. The fact that I was no more a ringleader of this contrived conspiracy, than I was the Pope on sabbatical, made little difference.
As a result of my participation in this food strike I was sentenced to two years in solitary confinement. The disciplinary judicial process itself was extremely vexing, a process commonly referred to as the "kangaroo court." Unlike the normal judicial precepts of our courts, in the hole there is no due process and witnesses are not allowed to testify on your behalf. Invariably it is the word of the guards against that of the inmates, a dichotomy that has only one winner. At my hearing when I disputed the bogus allegations against me, I was told by the hearings officer that the senior officer who testified against me was Lieutenant Jackson, was a man who did not lie. It was in this forum that I felt most at the mercy of my oppressors. Despite that fact that recourse is most often futile, I appealed my disciplinary sanction to the State Supreme Court and won after serving a few months in the hole.
While residing in the hole, I became acquainted with many of the more brutal tactics used by prison officials. Beatings were commonplace, as well as sensory deprivation (no light), poor heating and ventilation, and drugging. Due to crowding there was a convict who was once placed in my cell ,who had tried commit suicide. He was placed in the hole for his own benefit, or so he was told. He was given therapy. Twice a day, they came in and tied him down and administered to him enough Thorazine (an extremely powerful tranquilizer) so that he could barely talk and could not walk. For the month or so we shared the same cell he never received any form of counseling for his depression or suicidal tendencies. If it wasn't for my assisting him to the toilet he would have urinated and defecated on himself. He was a twenty-two year old first time offender, serving an eight year sentence for growing marijuana. Although he never told me so, I believe that he had been raped.
Ish, the hole is terrible place and hopefully your son won't be there forever. Once you get marked by the prison officials it can be tough to break the cycle. One thing I can say is I never thought I would be able to make outside. And I have. March 1, will mark five years of freedom for me.
I also learned while I was in the hole how to live with myself, and look into myself (inner-self, soul, etc.) in a way that few people ever have the opportunity to. Sometimes I would amuse myself by trying to recall and sing (poorly - much to the dismay of my fellow convicts) every song I had ever heard. I would write endlessly, most of which was lost or thrown away during one of my many transfers. Yet, writing was therapuetic (sp?) for me and allowed me to process and vent some of my anger.
Ultimately, change came about for me during my last stay in the hole. I was serving a sixty day sentence in the hole for a dirty UA with about two years left on my sentence of which I did nearly every day of, due to loss of good time for previous infractions. I should mention that the last five years of my incarceration I spent in federal custody under a guideline sentence, wherein I was mandated by law serve 85% percent of my sentence. There was no incentive in my mind for good behavior. Where was I, oh yeah, it was in the hole that last time that I decided that I had it in my power to realize a positive change in my life. Change did not occur overnight, but it was the beginning. Through meditation, yoga, drug treatment, and support from the outside I was able shed the hatred, anger and disdain I had for my captors and society. Enough of my ramblings... (cut) Ugh!
...... the time in the hole that I spoke of on bogus charges was at the Eastern Oregon Correctional Institution. When I spoke of the change I experienced in the hole that was at the Federal Correctional Institution in Sheridan, Oregon
Peace, Paul