The other thing that happened on Saturday was a total dorm clean-up, a regular feature here in the ISOP program I understand. First, the task leaders of the dorm, a part of the inmate governing body called Structure, assigned chores for everyone, from cleaning toilets and bathroom areas to day room and the outside covered porch where the smokers go. Everything was supposed to be cleaned, though some people’s definition of clean was different from mine.
The other thing that happened on Saturday was a total dorm clean-up, a regular feature here in the ISOP program I understand. First, the task leaders of the dorm, a part of the inmate governing body called Structure, assigned chores for everyone, from cleaning toilets and bathroom areas to day room and the outside covered porch where the smokers go. Everything was supposed to be cleaned, though some people’s definition of clean was different from mine.
I had grown up cleaning, whether it was in the house, cow barns or farm equipment. If my brother and I didn’t do an acceptable job for my father, we got to do it again, so I learned the hard way to do it properly the first time. It actually was a good thing as I carried it over through college and on to my future adult life in the many apartments and later houses I occupied. So cleaning here inside corrections was not such a big deal. After all, I lived here too, and as with most things I do, I take pride in doing a good job.
So, Monday came and the counselors came and we didn’t have to go anywhere, only to the large day room. They sat with us in a very large circle where all of us looked at each other. Since there were over 40 guys, some kind of sat behind the main circle. They were ones who had been in the program and us newbies, about 10 of us, had to introduce ourselves to everyone. Where we were from, our instant offense (our crime that brought us here), what we wanted to accomplish in the program and lastly, one special thing about ourselves or what we liked to do.
There were two counselors and one psychologist heading up the group, though the latter didn’t spend much time in the dorm, rather his main function was in the classroom. Turns out they worked with our dorm as other similar counselors worked with the other two dorms in the building, usually at the same time as our conferences. The counselors covered the basic rules once again as well as what to expect in the months to come. Our journey through the program would culminate with our self assessment and explanation of our instant offense, all explained in our story which would be read in a small group which included the psychologist assigned to us. No one, including me, was looking forward to that task, which probably accounted for the several moans and groans from the audience. Many inmates had been in the group for some time and were well advanced in the program, some almost ready to finish up and leave.
So here I was, among the other newbies once again, ready to do whatever it took to get out and get ready for my parole hearing next year in March. To successfully have credibility there I would need to complete the program, so I was all ears. Obviously others didn’t care, as they joked and clowned around behind the backs of the counselors and at every chance they could.
The counselors then began to introduce the new leaders of the Structure group that would lead us inmates, a process they renewed every two to three weeks or so. That way many people would get an opportunity to be on the so called governing board of the dorm and have a say, hopefully learning some skills along the way and not just abuse of power. There were more than just the community leader and his two co-leaders. There was an creative energy director, librarian, task leaders, and historian, each performing their special functions, I was told, and had obvious obligations that went with the office.
The community leader would run the meeting, using his two subordinates when he wanted to turn a topic over to them for discussion or leadership, or if a vote was required, the three of them could decide the outcome.
The creative energy director planned activities for our Friday meeting in the dorm sessions as well as any outside ones we may have by ourselves or with other groups, all done in conjunction with the counselors of course.
The librarian brought information on books and articles that might prove helpful in our necessary and periodic writing required in the program as well as managed the in-dorm mini-library.
The task leaders called us to meeting and attempted to keep guys in line, handing out writing punishments or the equivalent when they deemed it necessary. They also oversaw the cleaning in the dorms, assigning groups for each task and guidelines as they saw fit as well as approving all our work. You guessed it, the newbies start out on the cleaning crews, either mopping or washing floors, cleaning the bathrooms, or dusting and cleaning in the day room or any other part of the dorm.
The historian chronicled our meetings and acted like a secretary, though I think the name was picked as no one wanted to have a girlie title. He would also bring in relevant information from past meetings or outside information should he find any.
The counselors would oversee the whole thing but it appeared they let things run there course unless things really got out of hand or someone seemed to abuse their power, as was evident, I was told, with certain community leaders. The whole purpose of this hierarchy was to mimic societal governing bodies and give us all a taste of what it was like to be in various roles with varying amounts of authority. I suppose the counselors wanted to prepare us for the outside world where we would be subjugated to such power from others and give us a taste of the outside while inside, especially since most all of us would be on parole for some time once we left.
Even though over 50% of all State inmates were illiterate by DOCS statistics I had read, that did not mean they were stupid. So I did not mention to anyone my leadership background at this time, though I knew the counselors knew from my rap sheet and records. After all, they had degrees in street education that I lacked, and many had prison credentials that in here would trump any sheepskin I possessed.
So the meeting had an abbreviated schedule because of all the other changes going on today, but we were assured this Friday’s meeting would be back to normal. We broke for lunch and were told to report to the program building after lunch.
On the way to lunch some of my roommates gave me a quick overview of what would happen there – discussions of topics the counselors might bring up and other “boring” stuff they would relate. As a note we were called to the mess hall by dorm location and could walk there without escorts, though there were CO’s all along the walkway, always in sight of each other should they be needed. Once inside the hall, we went through a cafeteria type line, served food by other inmates who were supervised by a civilian, and sat by dorm at tables directed by a CO as he filled up the room of large tables. In this facility we were allowed real silverware, though upon leaving we had to show our fork and spoon to a CO prior to putting them in a dishpan. It sure made it easier to eat over the plastic ware we had in other facilities. We could leave when finished and didn’t have to wait for the entire dorm, another change from previous locations. However, we couldn’t take too long eating as other dorms came in and the room would fill up again, necessitating free space for them. Other than the quality of the food, it wasn’t a bad system – for prison.
So it was back to our ‘home’ and get ready for the “On the Program” shout from our dorm CO when we would all trudge out to our program in another building about a quarter of a mile away along a similar walkway many other inmates took to get various places. Some were going to the education building for GED classes or to assist there as teacher’s assistants, TA’s. Other service work assignments like my transitional service or grievance work necessitated inmate help. Some were coming back from food service duty, done till evening meal. There actually were several occupational classes held here at Mid State such as landscaping, welding, carpentry, plumbing and electrical, horticulture, and small engine repair which usually filled quickly from the over 1200 inmates here. So the walkway was a busy place, where much ‘business’ occurred.
As I went off to our program session, I wondered where God was in all this.