The message that we wish to demand is protection from this time of crisis. Is it too much for us as convicted criminals to ask for help? Has the world forgotten that we exist?
We have to watch the world suffer and be afraid that our next phone call will go unanswered because they have contracted COVID-19. I had to lead the effort with two others to document why prison officials chose to shakedown our housing unit after the governor said all gatherings of 10 people must be restricted. We are now faced with hindrance and retaliation because we feared for our safety because we lack the faith in the medical contractors that the Maryland Department of Corrections (DOC) hires.
Case Management, social workers, registered nurses, psychologists, warden — everybody who is of importance has to act in an “acting capacity” because this institution holds the most vacancies in the Maryland Division of Corrections. What does it mean to me, who has been diagnosed with a serious mental illness? I cry because I’m afraid that administrative officials won’t believe me just because I portray a strong visual.
My health includes my mental health also. My welfare includes my well being. My safety includes the ability to feel that I can unburden myself to those who are tasked with my body. I fight so that my mind can remember the faces of my family without having to look at my photo album.
In this moment I know what it is to have health, safety and welfare. We also smell fear, feces and pepper spray. Who better to protect us than them? Do I make sense when I throw myself at the mercy of the institution? Should I admit that I am powerless without proper guidance? Maybe I should ask the warden’s empty position to intervene on our behalf.
March 30, 2020 — my birthday was yesterday, and I now am 29 years old. Am I receiving the proper treatment when all I wanted to do was escape into an abyss of highs and medication? My day has come, and now I feel forgotten. Yesterday I felt like a person of importance, yet today the mental health registered nurse didn’t ask me how I was doing.
It was my neighbor who spoke with me through the confessional booth, aka the vent. In my medicine cup I receive meds for the voices that call me. In the vents, we go from being friends to becoming therapist and patient. In our cell sits a speaker that has said nothing to me out loud. Yet I think I hear it, so I cover it with tape. I am known as Chris X, cofounder of the New Afrikan Blood Strand. Yet I am still SID#2390623.
I sit on a tier of single cells with individuals who have re-committed the same crime that most of them are currently serving time for. I have not committed a jail house slaughter. Is this setting appropriate for individuals who have verified mental health disorders?
Who counsels the people who have killed in prison to survive? Should they submit request forms saying that they are now ready to talk? Should they not have to worry that homicide and suicide feel like the only option and relief ? Who listens? I know, me! Not them, but me.
Republish this article
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Here are our ground rules:
- You must credit Prison Journalism Project. In the byline, we prefer “[Author Name], Prison Journalism Project.” At the top of the text of your story, please include a line that says: “This story was originally published by Prison Journalism Project” and include a link to the article.
- No republishing of photographs, illustrations or graphics without specific permission. Please contact inquiries@prisonjournalismproject.org.
- No editing the content, including the headline, except to reflect changes in time, location and editorial style. For example, changing, “today” to “last week,” or San Quentin to San Quentin, California. You can also make minor revisions for style or headline size, and you can trim stories for space. You must also retain all original hyperlinks, including links to the Prison Journalism Project newsletters.
- No translation of our stories into another language without specific permission. Please contact inquiries@prisonjournalismproject.org.
- No selling ads against our stories, but you can publish it on a page with ads that you’ve already sold.
- No reselling or syndicating our stories, including on platforms or apps like Apple News or Google News. You also can’t republish our work automatically or all at once. Please select them individually.
- No scraping our website or using our stories to populate websites designed to improve search rankings or gain revenue from network-based advertisements.
- Any site our stories appear on must have a prominent and effective way to contact you.
- If we send you a request to remove our story, you must do so immediately.
- If you share republished stories on social media, please tag Prison Journalism Project. We have official accounts on Twitter (@prisonjourn), Facebook (@prisonjournalism), Instagram (@prisonjournalism) and Linked In.
- Let us know when you share the story. Send us a note, so we can keep track.