This story is part of Locked Out, a special series from PJP about voting, politics and democracy behind bars. Click here to read more.

Before I went to prison, I thought it was important to share my opinions on politics. I believed it was my duty to demonstrate the long-term implications of voting and how ripple effects from each election can be felt years later. I was one of those people who posted their “I Voted” stickers on social media.

But once I was inside, I learned that there were so many people who didn’t know much at all about politics, or how the government actually works. A friend of mine once said, “If the country goes to war, the election is canceled.” When I told him that wasn’t true, he said he was simply repeating what someone else had told him. 

It’s important that incarcerated people have access to accurate political information while in prison. But it can be hard to find. In my facility, in Connecticut, the news app on our prison-issued tablets is blocked behind a $5-per-month paywall. That’s a lot of money inside.

Political education is vital, especially in prisons. If more people had the skills and tools to research the issues important to them, they would make informed voting decisions upon reentry, better understand the impact of their action or inaction, and leave prison better equipped to participate in democracy.

— Kashawn Taylor, Connecticut

Prior to prison, I was only somewhat aware that politics affected many aspects of life. Now, after being incarcerated since 2009, I know politics affects everything. Even more so in prison.

A year ago, one of the buildings at my facility in Texas caught fire and remains empty. At first glance, it appeared that the nearly 700 people who had resided there were equally and randomly distributed to different parts of the prison. Very quickly, however, we saw politics come into play. 

Take what happened with E wing. 

This wing of the prison holds 50 people but has capacity for 94. The bottom row of E wing is desirable because it only has one bunk in each cell, which means people residing there don’t have to have a cellie. After the fire, every person originally on E wing got moved elsewhere, a process that took about one month. 

When the dust settled, it was clear that many favored people ended up in one of 24 cells on the bottom row of E wing. In general, these are people with connections to administration. They typically have choice jobs and tend to work with administrators, including the warden, in the craft shop or in the officers’ dining hall. None of the favored is working a job like janitorial, kitchen or laundry. Most of them have been at the prison for over 20 years. 

Eventually, these guys had shelves put up in their cells and TVs installed in the dayroom. In recent months, many of us have noticed that E wing is almost always fed first in our building.  And when they have a maintenance issue, it gets resolved quickly.

I strive not to be envious of those with connections. With changes in staff and administration, politics can change instantly. Many people lose their lofty status. So far, I don’t have any connections. I don’t think I could ever get moved to the E wing. I can’t even get my sink fixed. It’s been clogged for four months.

— Cesar Hernandez, Texas

Prior to receiving my lengthy prison sentence, I paid little attention to politics. I felt no reason to concern myself with those who occupy public office. That’s mainly because I presumed they had little concern for me.

This changed when, a few years into my sentence, I was “voluntold” by others in my prison to act as a community representative. My duties included mediating conflicts among my constituents and taking their concerns up the Idaho state prison system’s chain of command. It was a stressful position made difficult by an overall lack of support.

My job required significant research, through which I came to understand and respect the pressures and processes involved in various levels of bureaucracy. It turns out that those in power are also constrained by social standards, guidelines, budgets and whatever available information they use to make informed decisions.

Now, 10 years into my sentence, I still believe that most public officials have little concern for me. But I also now believe it is my responsibility to help inform them about how their actions and inactions will impact myself and others, and to otherwise support them in their efforts to reach solutions.

— Patrick Irving, Idaho