I’ll never forget the first time I went to lockup, a restricted housing unit where you’re sent after being accused of violating rules. The unit was not far from where I typically resided, but the differences were stark. 

The cells were made entirely of metal, even the barred doors. The place smelled toxic: a mix of burned paper, feces, urine and rats, which ran around in broad daylight. The constant yelling reminded me of a professional football game. I was cautious about who I talked to. I felt like a lot of the other guys in lockup with me had nothing to lose. 

What made things worse was that I had none of my property for several weeks. 

After a certain kind of rule violation, the policy of New Jersey State Prison in Trenton is to send people to lockup and confiscate all their property, and, depending on the violation, deny them communication privileges like phone calls to loved ones. 

The punishment is upheld while the alleged violation is investigated. It can take anywhere from two weeks to several months for a decision about sanctions to be reached. In other words, there is no “innocent until proven guilty” in prison.

This can contribute to an explosive environment, which can be dangerous for everyone. 

Less property, more problems

When I was sent to lockup, my beloved gray word processor, with its detachable keyboard cover, was taken. Gone were my 15-inch TV and AM/FM radio. I had none of my documents or court transcripts, and none of the food I had purchased from commissary, including my ramen cup noodle soups, instant white rice, pouches of chili, and canned mackerel and clams.

Only basic necessities were permitted: a toothbrush, a bar of soap, underwear and some towels. 

Without my belongings, I felt increasingly hopeless. 

With no property for comfort or distraction, people in bad shape only get worse. 

For people like Kenneth Barr, my neighbor a few doors down, a loss of personal property can exacerbate health problems. 

Barr said he suffers from serious cardiac and mental health conditions that cause auditory hallucinations. For these conditions, Barr takes regular medication to quiet the voices in his head, but that medication is unsafe under high heat, he said.

Once, during a heat wave, Barr said he received a rules violation that sent him to restricted housing. Because he wasn’t permitted to bring his belongings, he lost the fan he used to stay cool. 

I read a copy of a communication to prison officials about Barr’s situation. It was written by a lawyer and prison advocate from whom Barr sought help. According to that letter, the prison nurse backed up Barr’s assertion that he could not take the medication safely in the heat. Ice was not provided on his unit, and Barr had not been allowed to take a shower, which would have let him cool off. The letter also informed  prison officials that Barr’s nose was bleeding and that he had resorted to stripping down to his underwear to try and get cool. 

In other situations, a loss of property can provoke violence.

If you have a TV, a radio, pictures of loved ones or some comfort food, one can cope better with stress and be distracted from intrusive thoughts and feelings. But with nothing to kill time, lockup can feel like solitary confinement. 

With no other distractions, most of my peers in lockup pass time talking to each other through their cell doors. But this too can lead to arguments, which can contribute to everyone losing sleep. That in turn can spark violence. 

I have seen someone splash an officer or a peer with urine or feces multiple times. I’ve heard people threaten  to “shit you down,” and I’ve smelled the evidence of it afterward. 

I have seen people set fires and heard the screams of people being stabbed. 

Loss of human contact

Certain disciplinary sanctions also come with the loss of communication privileges. 

My prison administration claims to encourage contact with family members. But in reality, family members are punished alongside their incarcerated loved ones. This  adds to the simmering and often explosive frustration in lockup. I remember one of my peers yelling that the loss of his phone privileges was the reason he was about to “burn this shit down.” 

One of my peers had a girlfriend outside. After going to lockup and losing his privileges for so long, they grew apart. She ultimately left him.

Another guy I know spent years in lockup without the ability to call his children. His kids didn’t want anything to do with him in the end because they felt like he had abandoned them. 

One time in lockup, I lost my phone and email privileges for 30 days. When I got them back, I learned that my uncle and cousin had both died on the same day.

Policy lifted — to quickly return

During the COVID-19 pandemic, the property policy was temporarily lifted. Communication privileges were restored. It was not clear why. All property was returned immediately after someone was sent to lockup, and they enjoyed standard privileges while awaiting a decision about sanctions. As a result, I noticed fewer emergency codes being called over the loudspeaker. 

But the administration eventually reinstated the policy and revoked communication privileges, and made it even more severe. 

People were angry. They didn’t understand why, especially because the environment had been better for everyone.