126: Earning Freedom (7.1), by Michael Santos
I\u2019m continuing to read from my book Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term. This is the first installment of chapter 7, covering months 93 through 95 of my confinement, in 1995.
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Hofstra awards my master\u2019s degree in May of 1995 and I begin working my way toward a doctorate at the University of Connecticut. The textbooks on penology could cure insomnia, but the clear path to a Ph.D. motivates me, keeping me cocooned in my room except for my early morning exercise. I think about the authors sometimes, wondering what inspired them to study and write about prisons. For them, I know, a lengthy sentence didn\u2019t provide the impetus. I don\u2019t have any idea what compels someone to build a career around the walled concrete and steel compounds that now hold more than two million people in the U.S.
I have eighteen more years to serve and at times I feel disconnected, as if I\u2019m living behind a glass wall, where I can see but not participate in the broader society. I\u2019m isolated, though my projects bring meaning into my life and dissipate feelings of loneliness or despair.\xa0 I feel driven by goals every day, racing to finish one project so that I can begin another.\xa0 Despite the length of time I have to serve, I still feel as if I can\u2019t afford to waste a single second.
When I hear news that Warden Luther plans to retire in June, I worry that his departure will lead to changes that could disrupt my progress.\xa0 I seek him out and inquire about who will replace him as warden.
\u201cYou\u2019ll be fine,\u201d the warden assures me.\xa0 \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter who comes.\xa0 Just keep working on your education and you\u2019ll continue to live productively in here.\u201d
Under Warden Luther\u2019s leadership, McKean enjoys a reputation of having comparatively well-behaved prisoners. Despite the long sentences that many men serve, they appreciate the privileges of \u201copen movement,\u201d the absence of lockdowns, the ability to order food from the community, and the privilege of participating in Luther\u2019s token economy. Men who transfer from other prisons leave their tension, hostility, and gang problems at the door. Throughout the institution, he hangs copies of a framed memorandum titled: Warden Luther\u2019s Beliefs About the Treatment of Inmates.\xa0 The 28 beliefs begin like this:
- Inmates are sent to prison as punishment and not for punishment.
- Correctional workers have a responsibility to ensure that inmates are returned to the community no more angry or hostile than when they were committed.
- Inmates are entitled to a safe and humane environment while in prison.
- You must believe in man's capacity to change his behavior.
- Normalize the environment to the extent possible by providing programs, amenities, and services. The denial of such must be related to maintaining order and security rather than punishment.
- Most inmates will respond favorably to a clean and aesthetically pleasing physical environment and will not vandalize or destroy it.
Luther\u2019s philosophy, albeit powerful and positive, exists at FCI McKean but nowhere else that I\u2019m aware of within the Bureau of Prisons. It won\u2019t last beyond his departure and I sense trouble.
Some staff members resent the privileges Warden Luther extends to me, and I can understand why they would. After all, he treats me kindly, and it isn\u2019t unusual for me to receive a page over the loudspeaker to report to the warden\u2019s office.\xa0 He openly supports my academic program, authorizing me free access to a computer lab, allowing me to use the word processors for my academic program as well as for correspondence with my growing support network. On one occasion, he introduced me to a tour group he was leading through the prison.
\u201cThis is inmate Santos. He knows more about prisons than many on my staff.\u201d\xa0 He treats me more like a colleague than a prisoner, and some staff members resent it. I don\u2019t miss the frozen expression on their face, the body language that implies definite disagreement on that point.
My profile at McKean has become too high. Every staff member knows Warden Luther supports and sponsors my work and I sense that his retirement puts a target on my back. I begin contemplating the merits of requesting a transfer to someplace new, someplace where I can serve my sentence anonymously. If I were to ask for a transfer, I feel confident that my support network could help make it happen.\xa0 Doing so, however, would mean the immediate loss of the privileges I enjoy here, and so I put off the decision, deciding to see what comes with the change in leadership.
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Within weeks of Luther\u2019s departure Warden Meko arrives, blasting Luther\u2019s token economy out of operation and blowing the atmosphere of trust to smithereens. The new warden institutes the oppressive controls characteristic of other prisons, giving quick rise to levels of anger and hostilities that weren\u2019t around under Luther\u2019s leadership.
Warden Meko is all law and order.\xa0 If you put a pair of mirrored sunglasses on him, he could pose for a highway patrol poster. He and his staff quickly assess that the prisoners at FCI McKean have been living too well, and they\u2019re determined to tone down the atmosphere, to bring us into line with their beliefs of how prisoners should live. In stripping away the incentives prisoners have grown accustomed to, he also rips away the sense of camaraderie and tolerance. McKean\u2019s atmosphere quickly changes to discontent with growing racial tensions and threats, eradicating the hope that Warden Luther worked so hard to instill. The new regime wants a standard-issue prison and welcomes the hostility its punitive system breeds. Tensions become more palpable. \xa0
Last April authorities arrested Timothy McVeigh for bombing the Murray Federal Building in Oklahoma City, killing 168 people. Judicial proceedings are all over the news.\xa0 Many prisoners in FCI McKean now openly root for McVeigh, cheering every sign of civil unrest, from militia groups to incidences of civil rebellion.\xa0 This atmosphere feels ripe for rebellion.
It\u2019s October and another fervor is emerging. Louis Farrakhan, minister of the influential Nation of Islam, has organized The Million Man March on Washington to protest injustice in America. He calls for black men to unite and for legislators to bring fairness to a criminal justice system that disproportionately locks up blacks and Hispanics. Media attention stokes the anger of prisoners at McKean, and there is constant chatter on the compound about a need to unite, to take a stand, to do something. Whereas Warden Luther would\u2019ve led us positively through this collective desire for rebellion, Warden Meko turns up the heat to see how far the prisoners are willing to take their anger. Had Luther been in charge, I suspect he would\u2019ve called a Town Hall meeting, assembling all the prisoners to remind them that he didn\u2019t have any power over the length of their sentences. He likely would\u2019ve communicated a message as follows:
\u201cAlthough I can\u2019t do anything to change the length of time any of you are serving, wardens set the tone for the environment in these places.\xa0 I do my best to operate an efficient institution that allows every man to serve his sentence with dignity. At McKean we offer privileges and incentives conditionally to everyone who acts responsibly, but any hint of rebellion will result in changes that could include lockdowns, strict controls, and the loss of privileges that none of us want.\xa0 I\u2019m encouraging you guys to work together, to act responsibly so that we can keep things working well here.\u201d
The administration under Warden Meko\u2019s leadership, on the other hand, sees opportunity in the brewing resentment. An organized disturbance would provide the cover necessary to completely dismantle the progressive policies that Warden Luther favored.\xa0 Whereas the prisoners resent the new administration, most staff members eagerly embrace changes that Meko\u2019s regime is putting in place.\xa0 It\u2019s as if they\u2019re goading prisoners on to carry out threats of a rebellion.\xa0 They don\u2019t have to wait long.
When I open my door at 5:20 in the morning, it\u2019s hard to believe that Luther retired only three months ago.\xa0 Instead of the calm that previously reigned over McKean, I see fires blazing in front of me.\xa0 Prisoners are on a rampage, wool caps pulled over their faces, smashing windows, breaking chairs, tables, and desks. Guards have deserted their stations, leaving the entire building devoid of order. I close the door and retreat into my room, knowing I\u2019ve already seen more of this melee than I\u2019d like.
Although prisoners run wild through common areas, locked steel doors prohibit them from exiting to the compound. Destruction, not escape, is the purpose of their anarchy. It isn\u2019t only our housing unit erupting in bedlam, as through the narrow window of my room, I watch orange flames reaching the ceiling in the next unit, where a pool table burns.
As I\u2019ve done so many other times, I lie on my rack and pull my pillow over my eyes, a conscious effort to tune out my environment.\xa0 Hearing no evil, seeing no evil, and speaking no evil is part of my deliberate strategy to survive in here. Violence and disturbance represent a part of the journey, and I\u2019ve just got to roll with it. I know that we\u2019ll be on lockdown soon, and an official inquiry will follow. I\u2019m best served now by trying to sleep through this mess.
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\u201cAll inmates! Stand for count!\u201d The guard\u2019s bullhorn demand from the common area wakes me at 10:30 in the morning.
Five hours have passed since I saw the blazes outside my door and windows. Now I see a dozen guards dressed in camouflage and wearing helmets with clear visors standing alert. They hold batons, and plastic grips for quick handcuffing along with canisters of mace hang from their heavy leather belts. I brace myself for the riot squad, seeing that they\u2019re all suited up and ready for combat. One holds a video camcorder, filming the destruction, while another snaps photos of the debris with an instant camera.
\u201cI repeat!\u201d the guard yells again. \u201cStand for count! Any inmate who refuses to stand is resisting and my officers will respond accordingly. So I repeat again! Stand for count!\u201d
Some prisoners yell obscenities from their cells, taunting the guards. I back against my rack and stand stoically, letting everyone see that I don\u2019t have a stake in this fight. Predictably, the riot team responds aggressively to defiance, rushing into rooms, restraining any belligerent, taunting, or resisting prisoners with plastic quick ties and marching them straight out to waiting buses. Those men are gone, being transferred to penitentiaries thousands of miles away. It isn\u2019t my concern, as I don\u2019t feel any alignment with the shortsighted prisoners who set this problem in motion.
I\u2019ve read of and thought about the struggle and suffering of Elie Wiesel, Viktor Frankl, and the millions of others who perished because of anti-Semitism in Hitler\u2019s camps. I\u2019ve also read extensively about the persecution of blacks and injustice in our country. Those stories inspire me, as by reading them I have examples of amazing survivors who overcame those severe violations of human rights. Now, while locked in my cell, I contemplate the strategies I\u2019ll use to triumph over the dehumanizing indignities about to ensue. I have what I need, including books, space to exercise, a plan, a growing ability to express myself, and a professional audience of mentors who validate my efforts. I\u2019ll make it. I may lose access to computers and other privileges that have made my studies easier, but I\u2019ll make it through, relying on a stash of pens and the skill I\u2019ve developed to write in straight rows across unlined paper.
Being locked in my closet-sized cell prohibits access to the track or weight room. So I exercise alone, ignoring the outbursts of other prisoners who kick their doors to protest the lockdown. I run in place for hours, pulling my knees up high and then dropping down to blast out several hundred pushups. With a dirty towel, I mop the sweat that rolls off me and puddles on the floor. A shower may be a few days off but I\u2019ve got soap and a sink with running water to clean myself. I wash my underwear and t-shirt, hanging them to dry on a hook against the wall. I can do this for as long as it takes.
Guards bring white bread with a slice of bologna in a brown sack twice a day. As weeks pass, I draw strength from knowing that prisoners such as Nelson Mandela, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, and many, many others have endured much worse.
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\u201cNormal\u201d operations resume at McKean in November of 1995, albeit with more restrictions and more controls. It\u2019s like other penitentiaries now, with metal detectors, locked gates, and more cell confinement. Hundreds of prisoners were shipped off to other institutions after the riot, and investigations continue. The local newspaper covers the riot and reports that damages to the prison exceed a million dollars. That\u2019s a lot of broken windows and smashed furniture, although I suspect that Warden Meko padded those costs by keeping us on lockdown, generating immense staff overtime and installing new security measures like surveillance cameras throughout the compound. He succeeds in turning Dream McKean into a nightmare.
Some prisoners face new criminal charges and others will spend years in isolation without access to visits, telephone, or other privileges they once took for granted. Losses of television, pool tables, bingo, and videos don\u2019t affect my adjustment to this new regime. Instead of pacifiers, I need permission to receive books through the mail from the University of Connecticut for my second semester, as the long lockdown has given me the time to finish my first semester from my cell. I\u2019m eager to resume my studies, but before I can, I need that permission to receive more books.\xa0 Only an associate warden can provide me with that permission.
It\u2019s Thanksgiving Day when I see Associate Warden Nuss in the chow hall. He sports a flap of dark hair styled with gel to conceal his receding hairline and stands with military bearing, hands clasped behind his back, barely moving. Even his face is frozen, as if a smile might crack it. Eyeglasses with circular lenses in a thin, almost invisible wire frame reminiscent of those worn by Teddy and Franklin Roosevelt complete the austere image he projects.
I inch forward through the line with hundreds of other prisoners toward the serving bar. I\u2019ve never spoken to Nuss but I know he\u2019s part of the new Meko administration, referred to as Meko\u2019s hatchet man. He\u2019s in charge of security, the man who oversees the work of captains, lieutenants, and guards. I saw his signature on memorandums that replaced the old incentive system with threats of disciplinary action and punishment.
I need to speak with AW Nuss to obtain his written approval to receive my textbooks. From across the noisy chow hall, I try to gauge his mood, assessing whether this is a good time to approach him.
I\u2019ve been creeping forward in line for 12 minutes with my eyes on him the entire time, noting that no one has dared approach him. Finally, a prisoner gripping his brown plastic tray of turkey and mashed potatoes ventures forth and initiates a conversation. Nuss looks through the prisoner with no change in his facial expression, nods slightly, and the prisoner walks on.
I estimate it\u2019ll be another 10 minutes before the line servers load my tray. I don\u2019t want to speak with Nuss, but since I need his authorization for the university to send me books for the next term, I don\u2019t have a choice.\xa0 He may leave by the time I find a place to sit, so I decide to abandon my spot in the slowly moving serving line and approach him.
The prisoner who was in line behind me issues a warning. \u201cA yo! Once you leave, dat\u2019s it dawg. I ain\u2019t savin\u2019 no spot.\u201d
I shrug my shoulders. \u201cI didn\u2019t ask you to save my spot.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m jus\u2019 sayin\u2019 yo, ain\u2019t savin\u2019 no spot.\u201d The gold grill in his mouth glitters as I walk away.
I weave my way through the crowd toward the far wall where Nuss stands. His eyes scan the room slowly, looking from one side to the other over 500 prisoners\u2019 heads. He shifts his glance toward me as he notices me walking toward him.
\u201cExcuse me, Mr. Nuss. May I speak to you?\u201d
His nod is nearly imperceptible but we lock eyes. While his stern demeanor suggests that he considers our relationship inherently adversarial, I know he\u2019s giving me his full attention.
\u201cMy name is Michael Santos.\u201d
\u201cI know who you are Mr. Santos,\u201d he says, cutting me off and startling me with his sharp tone.
\u201cI\u2019d like to talk with you about my educational program.\u201d
He nods, and I proceed.
\u201cI\u2019m enrolled in a doctoral program at the University of Connecticut.\u201d
\u201cSpare me the r\xe9sum\xe9. What\u2019s on your mind?\u201d
\u201cWell, I\u2019ve completed my coursework for this term and I\u2019m signing up for the next semester. I\u2019ll need a package permit to receive new books from the university.\u201d
\u201cNot going to happen.\u201d He doesn\u2019t elaborate.
\u201cI\u2019m sorry?\u201d
Nuss doesn\u2019t offer an explanation. He stands still and stares into my eyes without blinking.
\u201cI need the books to complete my program.\u201d
\u201cAnd I\u2019ve got a prison to run.\u201d
My pulse quickens, as I sense he\u2019s about to disrupt my world. I can\u2019t believe he\u2019s going to block my education without even offering an explanation. \u201cYou know, sir, I\u2019ve been in prison for more than eight years and my disciplinary record is as clean as the day I came in?\u201d
He\u2019s totally motionless, just staring, as if expecting me to grovel.\xa0 \u201cSo you\u2019re a candidate for sainthood.\xa0 What else is new?\u201d
\u201cMay I ask why you won\u2019t authorize me to receive books?\u201d
\u201cThey interfere with the security of my institution.\u201d
\u201cBooks?\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d
\u201cBut they\u2019re academic texts and they\u2019ll come directly from the library of a major university.\u201d
\u201cHow would I know what\u2019s in them? I don\u2019t have the staff available to look through books.\u201d
\u201cMr. Nuss, this isn\u2019t radical literature. I\u2019m studying theory, relationships, social order and allocation of public resources for prisons.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ve made my decision, Mr. Santos. You\u2019ve done just fine for yourself as an inmate at FCI McKean. But this is a new McKean, a federal prison, not a college.\u201d
Getting nowhere I muster a \u201cthanks\u201d for his consideration and walk away. There\u2019s no way I can enjoy a Thanksgiving meal.\xa0 I return to the housing unit with thoughts of how I\u2019m going to overcome this hurdle. The doctoral degree has an integral link to the future I\u2019m striving to create, and to my sense of self. I can\u2019t give up, as I\u2019ve got more than 17 years to go but I don\u2019t know what I\u2019ll do without the sublimation that study provides.
I call Bruce to let him know what I\u2019m up against and he offers to do what he can, saying he\u2019ll call his contact at BOP headquarters, Sylvia McCollum, after the holiday weekend. As a high-level education administrator in the BOP, perhaps she\u2019ll have a solution. My next call is to Norval at the University of Chicago, who promises to intervene at a higher level.
\u201cI\u2019ve got a meeting with the National Institute of Corrections in December,\u201d he says. \u201cKathy Hawk is going to be there and I\u2019ll have a chat with her. Perhaps it\u2019s time to find another prison for you, one better able to accommodate your studies.\u201d
Dr. Kathy Hawk is the Director of the Bureau of Prisons. President Bush appointed her and President Clinton has kept her on to lead this massive, rapidly growing agency. I\u2019ve read about her and I know she has a doctorate, either in education or psychology.\xa0 Norval once sent me a copy of a letter she wrote to him referencing me, so I know she\u2019s aware of my efforts and she can help. With a phone call she could resolve my problems at McKean, or order my transfer to a prison where I\u2019d be able to complete my studies.
With Bruce and Norval ready to lobby on my behalf, my tension eases. A new focus leads me to read through everything I find in the law library about potential prisons where I can transfer. It would be nice if Bruce could make another information-gathering trip to other prisons, but I doubt he has the time, and actually, neither do I. President Clinton hasn\u2019t ruled on my clemency petition yet, but it\u2019s important that I finish my doctoral studies by the time I hit my 10-year mark. I can\u2019t afford to miss an entire semester because of bureaucratic resistance and bottlenecks.
I haven\u2019t thought much about security levels of prisons since my initial incarceration. Yet as I read through the Bureau of Prisons Custody and Classification manual, I stumble upon the formula case managers use to determine them. A number of factors convince me that my security level should be low rather than medium.\xa0 Specifically, I don\u2019t have a history of violence, I wasn\u2019t incarcerated before this case, I don\u2019t have a history of disciplinary infractions, and I\u2019m within 18 years of my release date.\xa0 All of those factors mean that I should be classified as low rather than medium security.
Low-security classification would open more options, but in order to pursue a transfer to one of those prisons I need to meet with my case manager and verify my status. If I can persuade him that I\u2019m entitled to a low-security classification, perhaps I can also persuade him to recommend a transfer.
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