Dear Family and Friends,

You may be able to tell from the included picture that my dreadlocks are gone. Please do not be concerned about this drastic change. I am not seeking a new religion, nor have I lost a bet. Let me explain what happened. 

Around 2006, my hair was fashioned into dreadlocks and I kept it that way since it had become an easy identifier or a kind of signature. If another person asked about me, it was quickly said, “The guy with the long dreads.” Everyone knew me. 

Unofficially, I had the longest hair in the entire institution. It’s almost funny how now people have to take a second glance before they realize, “Ohhhh, you cut your dreads? I didn’t recognize you.”

The reason? How can I count them as they number more than a few? The main reason is that it was time for a change. There are situations we’ve gone along with for so long that we are no longer truly aware of them. They represent a certain captivity, like staying in a job or other commitment not because we enjoy it, but simply because it is what it is and we accept it as it is. We become so comfortable in our own captivity that nothing else, no matter the awesome possibilities, seems to matter beyond this thing that is. 

Some may say that doing time in prison is not that hard, at least in the age of corrections today. It certainly is not a physical challenge with threats of violence everyday, at least not to the same degree as it was back when there were only a few prisons in the state of Pennsylvania.

After some time here, especially with a life sentence, this becomes your world and you adapt. Some try to hold onto that something that sets them apart, that makes them different, if only in some minute sense. My hair became that thing. Call it a safety blanket.

Inside, we tend to be told what we can or cannot do, where, how, and what for. For my past actions, yes, it is fitting that I am here and that will never ever be disputed by me. 

But it was time for a change, to prepare for the next phase of this life.

In His Love,

Jeff Shockley

Close window X

Republish this article

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Prison Journalism Project is happy to share our writers and reporters’ stories with your print and online audiences. You are free to republish them under a Creative Commons license unless otherwise noted on the page. You can use the URL or copy and paste the story into your CMS.

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.

In Prison, The Meaning of a Haircut

by Jeffrey Shockley, Prison Journalism Project
September 23, 2022

<h1>In Prison, The Meaning of a Haircut</h1> <p class="byline">by Jeffrey Shockley, Prison Journalism Project <br />September 23, 2022</p> <p>Dear Family and Friends,</p> <p>You may be able to tell from the included picture that my dreadlocks are gone. Please do not be concerned about this drastic change. I am not seeking a new religion, nor have I lost a bet. Let me explain what happened.&nbsp;</p> <p>Around 2006, my hair was fashioned into dreadlocks and I kept it that way since it had become an easy identifier or a kind of signature. If another person asked about me, it was quickly said, “The guy with the long dreads.” Everyone knew me.&nbsp;</p> <p>Unofficially, I had the longest hair in the entire institution. It’s almost funny how now people have to take a second glance before they realize, “Ohhhh, you cut your dreads? I didn’t recognize you.”</p> <p>The reason? How can I count them as they number more than a few? The main reason is that it was time for a change. There are situations we’ve gone along with for so long that we are no longer truly aware of them. They represent a certain captivity, like staying in a job or other commitment not because we enjoy it, but simply because it is what it is and we accept it as it is. We become so comfortable in our own captivity that nothing else, no matter the awesome possibilities, seems to matter beyond this thing that is.&nbsp;</p> <p>Some may say that doing time in prison is not that hard, at least in the age of corrections today. It certainly is not a physical challenge with threats of violence everyday, at least not to the same degree as it was back when there were only a few prisons in the state of Pennsylvania.</p> <p>After some time here, especially with a life sentence, this becomes your world and you adapt. Some try to hold onto that something that sets them apart, that makes them different, if only in some minute sense. My hair became that thing. Call it a safety blanket.</p> <p>Inside, we tend to be told what we can or cannot do, where, how, and what for. For my past actions, yes, it is fitting that I am here and that will never ever be disputed by me.&nbsp;</p> <p>But it was time for a change, to prepare for the next phase of this life.</p> <p>In His Love,</p> <p>Jeff Shockley</p> <p>This <a target="_blank" href="https://prisonjournalismproject.org/2022/09/23/the-meaning-of-a-haircut/">article</a> first appeared on <a target="_blank" href="https://prisonjournalismproject.org">Prison Journalism Project</a> and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.<img src="https://i0.wp.com/prisonjournalismproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/cropped-PJP-favicon-2.png?fit=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1" style="width:1em;height:1em;margin-left:10px;"><img id="republication-tracker-tool-source" src="https://prisonjournalismproject.org/?republication-pixel=true&post=1393&ga=" style="width:1px;height:1px;"></p>

1