This artwork was created by an inmate in Indiana who is in his cell 23 hours a day, using only a “flex pen” (the inner plastic ink tube of a disposable ink pen).
This piece is “the beginning conception of a trilogy presently at work called “Lord of the Dragon and the Princess Nasas.”
This is from our new friend of the blog, Frank, who has recently adopted an inmate. Watch for more from Frank in this series.
I find myself with extra time on my hands these days due to my health and I try to think of ways to make a difference. I remember my time being incarcerated and it was my rock bottom. I believed everyone forgot I was even alive, believed my children hated me and never wanted to see me again. But I had one person who, even if she didn’t feel like it, wrote me anyway. Sometimes her letters were just her daily routine written down and addressed to me, but it was meant for ME; I did still exist. This woman was my mother. I had eight months with her after I was released before she died.
As I write this, fighting off tears from the thought of my mother, I want to do for someone what she did for me day in and day out – help a fellow human being feel like they are worth being alive, and assure them many people do love them.
Thank you
First in our new series, Letters From Angels, which is a companion to our Letters From Prison series. This was written by a mother whose son was wrongfully convicted.
AJ, I picked myself a flower today,
and said they were from you.
Because if you were here with me,
I know its what you would do.
As you walk alone to your dorm,
I walk alone to my car.
I leave a piece of my heart there with you
and take a piece of yours.
I cry my silent tears that only God can see,
until the day that I can bring your whole heart home with me.
The letter below is from a Texas prisoner. TDCJ does not pay any of their prisoners for work, so the only way they can purchase items from commissary is if someone on the outside is able to put money on their books. TDCJ provides minimal hygiene items to indigent inmates (who have no money on their books): soap, toilet paper, and toothpaste, and for women, 1 box of pads and 6 tampons per month. No shampoo, no lotion, no deodorant (and remember Texas does not provide any air conditioning for the inmates).
It is commonly against the rules in jails and prisons for inmates to help each other by sharing commissary items or food. Each item of their property must be labeled with their name and ID number (like in elementary school). Any item found in possession of an inmate that is not labeled with that inmate’s name and number is considered contraband, and will be confiscated. This includes every piece of paper, stamp, envelope, book, hygiene, and food item. Even “special” items such as radios and typewriters (in facilities that have those items available for purchase), cannot be given to another prisoner upon his or her release, they must take it with them. The irony of this practice is that it encourages theft and hostility.
I have a concern about the required work we inmates do in TDCJ that goes without pay or incentives of any kind (no “work time” or “good time” is applied to our sentence, as in most other states). I feel that the Texas prison system should adopt the same plan as other states, and start paying their inmates by the hour, or by the day, which would allow their inmates to become independant, to some degree, reducing the number of inmates who are indigent. This would teach the inmates the value of a dollar earned doing hard labor, and allow them to purchase needed items from commissary for the work they do.
Texas does not believe in rehabilitation, because if they did, they would have adopted this idea for their prisons. The Texas prison system believes in capital punishment only. And they do not want to help their inmates. They believe in allowing their inmates to suffer, they do not want to help us and they do not want anybody else to help us, inside or outside. For example: If an inmate who is indigent who never makes commissary nor gets visits, and he is not able to buy or purchase himself a Speed Stick deodorant, and some other inmate sees this man’s suffering condition and buys this man a deodorant, the inmate that helps out the poor, suffering inmate will get in trouble for helping the poor, suffering out. Now I don’t think that is right at all.
We’re needing some help with postage! Since our recent listing in the PARC (Prison Activist Resource Center) Directory, the mail has just exploded and we have well over 300 on our waiting list. We are getting prisoners adopted every day, but the backlog is significant, and our unpaid volunteer staff adopts every one of them while we are finding them the right adopter(s).
A donation towards postage is an angelic gift, and an easy way to help. We’ve just started a YouCaring campaign (Compassionate Crowdfunding), and hope to raise enough to see us through til we can find adopters for these forgotten inmates.
Thank you for donating, sharing, and caring.
I am 33 years old. I have no family but a brother who is also in prison. I have really had a hard life. I was kidnapped from my grandma by my mom, physically and sexually abused, forced to live and stay in closets, from hotel to hotel, for four months. I was tied down to a car seat with an extension cord and left on a doorstep of a group home, all at the age of four years old. I was in many different placements as a child.
At the age of 18 I was kicked out of state custody with no after-care, and was found to be SMI (seriously mentally ill). At 18 1/2 years old, I was sent to prison for $500 of forgery and given four and a half years, plus two years in county jail. I did not get out of prison until age 25. I had no family, and no place to go. Seven months later I was attacked by a man and defended myself, and ended up going to prison for four more years. I got out at 29 years old, was found to be mentally disabled and put on disability. At the age of 32, I was stopped by the Gang Unit because I have a lot of tattoos. I was walking down Broadway Road and they wanted me to strip down to my boxers on the main road to take pictures of my tattoos. I said no. They got mad – four of them jumped me, and then took me to jail. I mentally broke down, slipped out of my handcuffs and hit one of the four officers two times with my hand, and for that I got 28 years flat. I don’t have anyone.
Written by a recently-adopted prisoner in Texas
I came into this place (prison) broken, bruised, feeling alone, with no sense of belonging. I’ve had people hate on me, make fun of me … but I dust myself off and keep going. You have a feeling of loneliness, of being forgotten. Many nights of crying yourself to sleep. Then, when you least expect it, that angel comes into your life. And shows you love, and compassion. They give you a sense of hope, a sense of belonging. They show you what family means, even if it’s not family by blood. And family is what I have found with Adopt an Inmate. Thanks for everything that you do for each and every one of us. Thanks for showing we are loved, cared for, and that we are not forgotten.
Sketch and letter from a Florida inmate
I was wrongfully incarcerated and am waiting for the documentation that proves my innocence.
I had a brain aneurysm from stress, resulting in spastic paralysis, and have had 40% recovery.
I’ve self-educated myself. I do not do drugs or smoke.
My interests are art, writing short stories, recipes, and I would like to learn about penny stocks. I’m caring, considerate and understanding.
I would like to find someone in my life, like a mother-, father-, brother- or sister-figure, to cry with, laugh with, and support each other.
This is the first post in an ongoing series, “Letters From Prison.” These are real letters, from real human beings. Please read and share widely, so the outside world will know the truth about what really happens inside of a prison. Brace yourself for this first one.
Please Adopt Me, Someone
Who I Am
I am a 26 year old white male and I’m serving the remaining 19 years of a 25 year sentence. I am doing everything in my power to become a better person. I still have a good chance at re-entering society and being a productive part of a community. I want to be someone who has the wisdom, patience, and understanding that it takes to be a positive influence in lives of people around me. I want to donate the rest of my life to making the world a better and safer place.
We’re thrilled to announce the first issue of our online quarterly newsletter, created especially for family members, friends, and advocates of prisoners. To be added to the mailing list, enter your email in the sidebar to the right.
Thank you, Connie Bergstrom, for your soothing contribution, I’m looking forward to an Epsom soak now that this issue is out ツ.
