Prison, Its Harm and The Kings Bay Plowshares 7

I heard yesterday about the release to home confinement of Martha Hennessy, one of Dorothy Day's granddaughters, Catholic Worker, member of the Kings Bay Plowshares 7. Also, within the past 24 hours I received a note from Mark Colville who is currently serving time in prison for his part as another Catholic Worker in the Kings Bay Plowshares 7 action. No story or communication from a prisoner is pleasant in my own experience. But when I hear about people of conscience who are doing time for the things they believe in, I'm torn apart on the inside where my own conscience resides. 

If you don't know about the actions of the Kings Bay Plowshares 7 you can read about them here. My short version is that they are a group of seven people who by their action tried to get the world's attention on the destructiveness and the absolute stupidity of nuclear weapons. 

But right now, as a result of hearing about Martha's release, I'm writing about prison and the harm it does to everyone, the prisoner, the guard, the families of both, and to society as a whole. I write as a former prisoner myself, a prisoner of conscience during the Vietnam war. Fifty Five years after my incarceration I'm still affected by certain triggers, a long term effect of imprisonment. Most likely PTSD, although never formally diagnosed. No one reacts the same to prison experiences. My reactions are perhaps unique to me but I doubt it. I've known and spoken to a lot of people who were formally incarcerated or held by the government for some reason other then criminal or political activity, perhaps due to mental health or an intellectual disability. All I know is that there are many who's feelings, reactions and emotions are similar to mine.

Triggers can be things like a movie, a tv show, an article or a book. Perhaps a conversation, a visit or a letter. Any of these things can begin a process of remembering the impact of losing control of your personal freedom, when it happened, how it happened and the impact it may have had.

The system of incarceration is in its simplest terms, putting a person in a setting where they have little to no control over their personal freedom - how they move, who they see, what they eat. It is the denial of privacy in every form. It includes the control of both physical and emotional freedom and choices. It is as simple as controlling personal space and as complex as controlling emotional stability. How people react to all of this is different based on many things. Most people fight extremely hard to keep some sense of their own freedom and dignity. Sometimes the battles and resistance are more difficult for certain individuals. But the stress factors that are caused by control by others test everyone.

The judicial system and the prison system have some fantasy that they are in fact working together for the good of society as well as the person imprisoned. There is nothing further from the truth. Judges many times believe they are sending people off to be rehabilitated. They are either naive or intellectually challenged. Many judges have never been in a holding cell let alone a prison. These two systems, court and prison, are totally independent of each other and the consequences are harmful. There are people who languish in jails for years who have not been tried, who cannot afford bail.

Few people realize that for every prisoner there is at least one other person impacted by each incarceration. In most cases it's more than one person. Spouses and children are the most obvious people impacted by imprisonment but there are certainly other family members and social relationships. Spouses and children are impacted by all the rules that impact the prisoner relative to letter writing and visits. No physical contact, no tolerance of broken rules by guards or administrators. Spouses and children are impacted by the emotional reactions and outbursts by the person they love that are caused by incarceration. They are the recipients of the reactions in letters or in visiting rooms. After release, spouses and children have to deal with the readjustment of the ex-con to a changed environment as well as their own adjustment to the individual's return, perhaps as a substantially changed person. Now multiply that by the tens of thousands of people incarcerated across our country and the world.

I know these things are true from my own experiences. My wife and son were impacted in all of these ways and more during and after my being in prison. Their experiences were different from mine but no less difficult or important. We were all changed in some way while perhaps thinking and hoping we were the same. Our experiences hurt us along with our relationship in the long term.

Sexual and physical abuse in prison is overstated to a degree but it does exist and every prisoner is on guard relative to the potential threat. Fights occur and factions are part of the social network and culture of prisons. Some prisoners isolate themselves or are isolated by those in charge. Isolation can be a blessing or a curse that does real emotional harm over time.

I had a friend I made in prison who had been involved in drug sales. He had received a 15 year sentence. He was addicted to heroin when he entered prison and basically went cold turkey when he was arrested. After ten years in prison he was being released with time for good behavior, etc. The day and night before his release I watched him go through serious shaking along with beads of sweat pouring from his face and head. It was as if he was reliving the withdrawal symptoms from his addiction all over again. He was released with the expectation that a minimum wage job would solve all of his and society's problems when in reality he could make thousands of dollars in a few days selling drugs. Guess which way that went.

I have tried to communicate with all of the imprisoned Kings Bay Plowshares 7 with spotty success. Letters have been returned because I didn't follow the rules by using lined versus blank white paper or because I put a return label on an envelope rather than writing the address. Post Cards may have gotten delivered but they're also easier for a guard to throw in the trash. 

These are some thoughts and stories about prison. I think about them especially when I see good people trying to do the right thing and then be carried off to a prison setting. I hate prisons. I believe they allow people to abuse power and try to destroy other human beings. The need for power and control of others has existed through the ages. The basic concept of prisons hasn't changed for centuries. 

Yes, I'm glad for Martha, Carmen, Liz and Fr. Steve and I hope Patrick, Clare and Mark are released soon. They've provided witness but they've suffered and have seen the suffering around them. Just remember, there are thousands of other witnesses on both sides of prison walls and fences.

Bezos Flight and Fancy

I was drawn to the launch of Jeff Bezos' Blue Origin like millions of others. My guess is that it has something to do with the excitement of watching the human quest to do more or to be first. But my interest was quickly turned to scorn, pity and some real disgust as I realized the depth of the inequality and arrogance of rich, privileged, white men represented by Bezos. He hasn't been very visible in my world until yesterday. I had never seen an interview or any in depth coverage of him as an individual. My sense was that he was a bit reclusive other than sending some x-rated selfies to a new woman friend.

But all that changed yesterday. He exposed himself very clearly as the new age colonialist of our solar system and perhaps all of space. It began with the visual of a grown man attempting to be a down home boy with his old cowboy hat versus a helmet for a space flight. I should have known at that point that we were all in for a not so pleasant ride.

Commentators began talking about the public, private partnership that had led to this day. How a private company (not just one by the way) was creating all of this new technology for the government (actually for the highest bidder). Of course all of this came with some government support, contracts, etc. Wait, hold on! Jeff Bezos, the wealthiest man in the world, is getting government support and contracts? Let that sink in for awhile. Another great partnership that your government has gotten you into. The wealthiest man in the world, the man who pays little to no taxes is getting taxpayer support for his projects into space. Hmm..

Up, up and away, but not for long. A return to earth and a capsule surrounded by more wealthy people wearing more cowboy hats in adulation of their friend, benefactor, shaking bottles of champagne in the heat of Texas at 8:30 in the morning. None of this seems right at the moment.

When Bezos speaks, he speaks about space colonization. He describes the world he envisions for everyone else, where all industry is moved to other planets to save this one. Earth will just be for living. Industry and work will be elsewhere. He compares this vision to his creation and development of Amazon. Everything starts small. Today is just the beginning. He sees nothing wrong with the fact that no one else has had anything to say about what he's proposing. He's thought it out, he's figured it out for all of us and he promises there are absolutely no other planets like this one in our entire solar system, so there.

As any good patriarch does, he thanks all of his Amazon customers and employees, who he acknowledges actually paid for his few minutes in space. It all ends with him handing out $200 Million in Courage and Civility awards that he must hope, help cover and forgive a multitude of sins and omissions.

All of this is in the best and truest of the capitalist traditions and it would be unpatriotic to think anything ill of it. Yet at the end of the day, the poor continue to be poor, the homeless continue to be homeless, workers continue to be exploited for profit by a few, and the endless wars continue. Our planet is dying and suffers from the abuse we all continue to put her through. Mother Earth, wars, hunger and poverty aren't just part of a game played by wealthy, privileged, white men. They represent billions of people who need community, who need help and support. Jeff Bezos, no matter what he thinks, doesn't have all the answers.

Influences

Everyone's life is influenced by someone, something or in most cases many things. I've recently given some thought to my own influencers over the years. Here are the one's that I think had the most impact:

Family of course is right up there with all of the other things but my maternal grandmother, an immigrant from Ireland as a youngster, had much influence on me. Her stories, her faith and her life helped form a good part of who I am. Also my older brother. He has always looked out for me and been a protector of sorts. He helped lead the way.

I was also influenced by life events. When I was 5 or 6 as a youngster at the Jersey shore, two of my siblings and I had polio including some paralysis. We all recovered but I think that experience early on gave me some sense of the impact of a disability and how it could affect a person's life.

There was a point in our lives when my mother had a Black woman by the name of Alma who came and helped around the house with laundry and cleaning. I spent hours with Alma learning about her faith and music. She introduced me to the likes of Mahalia Jackson, the great gospel blues singer. Also, just by being herself, Alma helped me begin to understand inclusiveness and diversity.

I spent a fairly short amount of time in a Catholic seminary right after high school. The time though, beginning studies to become a Maryknoll priest, had a major influence on my values and where I would go in life. Maryknoll as an order is known for the involvement of its brothers, sisters and priests in social justice issues throughout the world. Fr. Raphael Davila, a teacher and guide at the seminary in Glen Ellyn, Ill., had a major impact on my understanding of social conscience.

In 1965 I became involved in the demonstrations that followed Bloody Sunday in Selma Al. There were many famous people and leaders involved in that action but I was mostly influenced by the young people of Selma. They weren't famous or fancy but they were fearless and certainly had heart. I stood on a picket line with them singing songs and confronting the local police. I learned about courage and standing up to power from those young people and it would travel along with me for many years.

Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker molded me and helped me clarify my thoughts about war, peace, poverty, the Works of Mercy. The concept of personal responsibility and standing up for one's beliefs became clear and evident.

Time I spent in federal prison was a great influence, some good, some bad. My incarceration helped me understand incarceration in general and what happens to people when others control their lives for long periods of time. People in institutions of all kinds including the military, facilities for people with disabilities, nursing homes, etc. all see the results of power and control.

People with disabilities themselves and their families have influenced me greatly. Learning about treatment, mistreatment, goals, hopes and dreams that people have for themselves. Learning to listen to voices that are sometimes hard to hear or understand has been critical.

Finally of course my collaborator, friend, partner and spouse has influenced much of who I am.

In the end, it's all connected. All of the influences and all of the values come together and become part of a pathway. I'm very happy with the path I took, the friendships along the way and the changes that were at least attempted.

The Shoe Is On The Other Foot

I spent almost 40 years trying to support people with intellectual, developmental and physical disabilities. Yes, I say tried because the issues are so big and in many cases difficult when it comes to supporting people with disabilities. Systems, bureaucrats, politicians don't make it any easier.

I began my career in the disability field as a direct support worker and ended it as a nonprofit administrator. During that time, large institutions closed and people began to be accommodated in the things we all do, things like shopping, working, and playing. In simpler terms, just being able to live their lives like the rest of us.

While working in this field there was an inordinate amount of time spent talking about what we should call the people with disabilities who we were supporting - clients, participants, consumers and more. Eventually, I figured out after all the talk, that just calling people, people, or by their own name actually made the most sense. That's what you and I would want, isn't it?

Which brings me to the main point of why I'm writing this. I'm now a person with a disability, a progressive and incurable lung disease that every day prevents me from doing the most basic things and will eventually lead to my passing. Each day, something becomes a bit more difficult. Yes the shoe is on the other foot. Now I struggle to get from the front of my house to the back or to a doctor's office or a lab for an appointment or a blood test. All of these are difficult tasks due to my increased shortness of breath. 

I've also learned about how frustrating conversations with service coordinators or chronic care coordinators can be. These conversations are all part of an aspect of my health care and my health insurance. New and different people call to offer me help and assistance but most are unfamiliar with my disease (Pulmonary Fibrosis). I have to spend time educating them and in the end we usually agree there's not much they can do to help. Then they call again the following month and we discuss the same issues again.

It is becoming more and more difficult to get out and about. When I do venture out, I show up with my noisy and funny looking oxygen machine. I have to make sure I have back up electricity or batteries and even a small travel tank of oxygen. Of course its not just the oxygen. There's the tubing, 50' of it in my house, a tangle of trip hazards and 7' sections for travel. All of this has happened with the backdrop of a pandemic which has certainly added to the challenges. Questions arose quickly about vaccines. Initially challenges about where and when they could be gotten and then more questions about side effects relative to special conditions or diseases.

Of course with any rare disease that's life threatening, the issue of medications and prescription drug costs comes up. I currently take a medication that has the potential of stopping the progression of my fibrosis. But here's the challenge. It costs $10,000 per month or $120,000 per year and it comes with some pretty awful side effects. With my insurance I can get that cost down to $8,500 per year. Luckily, with the help of my doctor and a specialty pharmacy affiliated with a university, I was also able to find a foundation that has assisted in covering much of this cost. But there are many situations and medications that people battle over and few people realize how lives depend on those battles.

One of the things that was always frustrating to me when I was working with people with disabilities were  fights you had to wage for pretty basic medical equipment, including mobility equipment. Now I'm faced with the same challenges, being denied a non-invasive ventilator due to, not just expense, but because the insurance provider doesn't understand the equipment or its purpose. Appeals, appeals and more appeals lead to nowhere. The only real answer is finding a provider who will pay for and support the use of the equipment. Of course in our current system of health care, you can't just switch insurance any time you want, you need to wait for the new enrollment period.

I have wonderful care and support provided by my partner and spouse. The hardest part for me is realizing  the things I can't do anymore. Some are pretty basic things, others are more complex. I can't get down to the lake I love but I can see it from up above. Going out to other places or even just for a drive becomes more difficult as time goes on.

I have to fight dwelling on regrets and try to live in the present. In some cases that's easier said than done. I'm experiencing some cognitive and gross motor losses which make writing my memoir and this blog more challenging and I've found that I've had to cut back on those things. That of course is a disappointment but I'm going to keep trying. When someone asks how I'm doing I struggle to find the real answer. 

This is certainly not a call for sympathy or anything else. We all have to deal with challenges, some very real, others perhaps imagined. At this point I'm simply recording a journey that changes day by day. It's my own recognition that the shoe certainly is on the other foot at this point in my life.  I continue to learn through experience and understand more clearly much of the frustration I saw from disability rights groups over the years. Yup, we're 'Not Dead Yet' and we want to be treated fairly and with dignity. Something we all want.