"When I was in prison...!" (Matthew 25:36)
By S. Linda Songy
I don't usually have trouble finding words to express myself. But it has taken me almost a year to even attempt to share with you what I experience when I walk into Louisiana's only state penetentiary for women. And even now, I will barely scratch the surface as I try to describe a reality which for so many in our society is "out of sight--out of mind."
During this past year since I began doing prison ministry on a full-time basis, some of the questions which people have asked me focus around four pronouns: it, they, you, and we! What is it like inside those walls, fences, and gates? What are they like--the inmates, that is? What do you do there as chaplain? Is there anything we can do to help?
Those seem like simple enough questions. So why are they so hard to answer, especially the first two? One reason, I think, is because they bring us face-to-face with some things which are at one and the same time "true," but which look and feel very different when experienced from a different perspective. On the other hand, what you find within the prison is a microcosm of what's on the outside--people getting up every morning, going to work, going to school, going to a doctor or a dentist, going "shopping," going to the beauty shop, cooking, visiting with family and friends, relaxing in a flower bed.... The list goes on and on. And all of this activity is surrounded by a landscape which is absolutely beautiful and impeccably kept. As you walk through those front gates, you could easily think you're on a small college campus, complete with a water fall, fountain, and fish pond!
On the other hand, stepping beyond the gates at "front control" is like entering another world, a world in which "rank" ranks high, and trust is hard to find. Those everyday activities which people are doing are closely monitored by other people who are told (in their initial and ongoing training sessions) to "presume these inmates are trying to manipulate you." And don't hesitate to "lock 'em up!" Orders are often spoken out in voices which are anything but respectful. Consistent fidelity to putting in a hard day's work earns "double good time" for some inmates and reduces their prison time significantly. For those who get "incentive pay" instead, it starts at $0.02 an hour after the inmate has served the first three years of her sentence. At least four times a day, a voice on the p.a. system commands: "Cease movement. All inmates report to your living areas. No stopping! No talking! Count time will commence in ten minutes."
Yes, the combination fish pond, water fall, and fountain that greets you as you walk through these big scary gates is very beautiful. But it's also misleading. Only a handful of inmates who happen to work in that area get to enjoy it. The lawn and flower beds that line the sidewalks are breath-taking, but as inmates walk those sidewalks to and from their meals, the enjoyment of that beauty is dampened by harsh commands like: "No talking, ladies!" "Single line, ladies!" "Put out that cigarette!" "Get off that sidewalk!" A visit from home might be wonderful, but saying "good-bye" is so hard, and it will be immediately followed by a strip-search with the command to "bend over and cough!"
Returning to her assigned living area may or may not be something an inmate can look forward to at the end of the day. She may live in a lock-down area in a small cell with open toilet, either alone or with one other inmate. Or she may live in a small "bedroom" with one or two other women whose manners, mannerisms, sleeping habits, and personal hygiene may or may not be compatible with her own. Privacy and quiet are almost non-existent.
The Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women offers many opportunities for rehabilitation. Our pastoral care department is part of that. We also have a literacy program, a G.E.D. program, basic academics, and some college courses. In cooperation with a local technical school, we offer programs in culinary arts, horticulture, upholstering, office occupation, and job skills education. At the heart of all self-improvement, however, is feeling good about oneself, and that's hard to come by in an environment which sees you as convicts who need to be punished more than respected. Our need for love and respectful human touch, which is every bit as real as our need for food and sleep, is not one which is well understood in our prison system.
Part of inmate rehabilitation is learning to truly care for someone else, in contrast to the "me first" mentality which is destructive to our society. But finding ways to physically express care and affection--so natural to women, especially southern women--in ways that would not be considered "inappropriate sexual conduct," which is punishable by 90 days on lock-down, is a major challenge. Even something as important to women as being able to feel and smell clean is not possible for indigent inmates whose monthly bar of prison-made, state supplied soap simply doesn't last a whole month for people who work outdoors in the heat of the summer, although they can usually stretch their shampoo and deodorant a little farther.
Speaking of "indigence" leads right into our second question: "What are the inmates like?" My answer to that, too, will probably sound contradictory. At one and the same time, they're like no other women I've ever met, and yet they're just like you and I are. If you want to know what an inmate looks like, the next time you're with your family or friends, just look to the right, look to your left, look in front of you and look behind you. That's what they look like! There's no such thing as a "typical" inmate. They're simply women like those in our own families who, like us, have broken some of the laws of our society. The difference is: they got caught.
There are, however, some similarities shared by a large percentage of our inmate population. Of the nearly 1200 women incarcerated here, although this number fluctuates monthly and is not always this high, we've had way over half of them in one month who qualify to be considered indigent. That means they have less than $5.00 in their accounts--in many cases, nothing at all. Some have been abandoned by their families. Others come from families who simply can't afford to send them money or to accept the charges of a collect phone call. The inmates do have limited access to the prison canteen, where they can purchase personal supplies, cigarettes, and dietary treats. But all of that takes money!
The crimes for which our inmates have been convicted range from shop-lifting to murder, and everything else in between. Their ages range from 18 to 80. Alcohol, drugs, poverty, mental illness, sexual abuse, and domestic violence play a major role int he choices these women made which led them to prison. Justs one drink too many at an innocent end-of-exams party can lead a beautiful college student to miss a stop sign, hit another car, kill someone, and be incarcerated for negligent homicide. Years and years of brutal beatings can lead even a very caring woman off the edge of rational thinking to a choice that is as deadly as it is desperate. The pain of guilt over the death of her mother, as unwanted as that guilt may be, can lead a teenage girl to escape from that devastating pain through drugs. And once that happens, criminal behavior is almost inevitable.
I certainly don't know all 1200 of our inmates. Some of them are mentally ill; sometimes their behavior is selfish and greedy; sometimes mean and manipulative. And I can't even imagine the pain, heartache and tragedy which their behavior has caused countless numbers of people. I neither deny nor excuse this behavior. But when I see what so very many of them are doing with the day-in-and-day out realities of their lives--regardless of what brought them to prison--I am absolutely amazed. I try to picture myself in their shoes, living day after day and year after year the way they have to live, and I am humbled by what I see. In many cases, I can only call it "holiness." I think it would take a whole lot of "divine intervention" for me to do as well. In the months ahead I will share with you what I am privileged to do as one of the chaplains.