For the third year, the Society of Professional Journalists and Prison Journalism Project have hosted the Stillwater Awards, an annual contest dedicated to honoring journalists behind bars whose lived-experience reporting sheds light on the U.S. prison system.
This year, PJP celebrates several standout contributors, including Phillip Luna, who earned the third-place spot for Prison Journalist of the Year, while also securing first place for Best Reported Essay.
He is joined by Derek Carter, who took home second place in the reported category for his story on mental health crises in prison; Kelsey Dodson, who earned third place for her poignant essay on menstruation behind bars; and Patrick Irving, whose story on caring for the elderly in prison earned him the third place spot for Best Op-ed. (PJP does not participate in judging the Stillwater Awards submissions.)
We asked this year’s winners to discuss the inspiration behind their stories and the determination required to practice journalism in prison. Here is what they had to say about their road to the Stillwater Awards.
Phillip Luna
The Night I Ate Wagyu Steak in Prison
“When I bit into the wagyu steak, it reminded me of the prison sentence I’m serving. It reminded me of dropping out of college. It reminded me of my selfishness. It reminded me that back when it mattered most, I didn’t take advantage of my privileged position. Eating wagyu steak made me feel regret.”
Q: What drew you to this story? Was there a moment when you thought, “I have to write about this”?
Phillip: I think the food drew me in, if I’m honest. The event itself was newsworthy because it showcased a high-cuisine culinary program that was unlike any other prison program in the United States [that I know of]. But once I was there, it made me reflect on life and my relationship with my father, who was a butcher by trade. I was on the phone with him sometime after the event when I knew I had to write this. My personal experience and the guilt I felt allowed me to add some pathos to the article. Without my experience, the story is still newsworthy, but adding my experience makes the article well-rounded.
Q: Has the process of reporting on your surroundings changed how you live your daily life in prison?
Phillip: I view journalism as a historical record; prisons are hidden places, with very little historical record. I cannot think of a more important role in prison than that of a reporter, to try and give a voice to people who are marginalized, warehoused and often forgotten.
What I knew about prison before I came here, in 2015, was very different from what I experienced. What I saw in movies and the media is a sensationalized version of prison and the people that live here. I often compare it to reading about a car crash in a newspaper. A person outside of prison might read about a car crash, maybe a significant one, in their local newspaper. But they also drive a car, probably daily. What they see on the road is cars not crashing. So, they have a lived experience that tells them the car crash they read about is unusual or rare. Most people don’t have lived experience in the prison system. When they read about a riot, violence or abusive guards, they assume that’s all the carceral system is — car crashes — all the time.
But I have seen incredible acts of compassion and perseverance in prison, from incarcerated people and prison staff. I have also seen guilt, regret and accountability. It’s not that the stories that make the mainstream media are untrue. Terrible things happen in prison. It’s just an incomplete picture. I feel that the reporting I do helps complete the picture of what it means to be incarcerated.
Q: Can you describe the journey of this story from draft to publication? Did you learn anything about yourself as a writer or journalist along the way?
Phillip: I spent three days prior to the event following the students of the culinary program around the bakery, kitchen and in their class. I watched, interviewed and photographed them as they prepared for the event. I researched the French names of food they were cooking to make sure I had it right and interviewed people attending the event and prison administrators after the event. And, of course, I attended. I tried to really immerse myself. I put a lot of hours in.
I wrote a draft and was really proud of it. I had a lot of quotes and interviews going in, so I was set up nicely. Of course, my draft wasn’t perfect and there were still some rewrites and edits from PJP editors. But I think this was one of the strongest starts to an article I’ve had. One of the first articles I wrote for PJP took 10 months of edits and rewrites [Editor’s note: That story, about a former white supremacist, placed second in the category of Best Feature in the 2025 Stillwater Awards.] This one was pretty quick, in a few weeks. It felt like growth.
— PJP Editors
Patrick Irving
Who Should Care for the Elderly in Prison?
“Kelly was a 69-year-old, partially paralyzed amputee when he was wheeled into my prison cell with his oxygen machine in tow. … A stroke in 1999 left his left arm paralyzed. Aggressive diabetes took the leg below at the thigh. I am not a nurse. My cell at the Idaho State Correctional Institution is the size of a compact parking space. That I was convicted on two counts of arson doesn’t quite qualify me to act as a caretaker. Nonetheless, I soon became Kelly’s.”
Q: What drew you to this story? Was there a moment when you thought, “I have to write about this”?
Patrick: At the time, I felt writing on this subject was the only choice I had. Policy dictated that prisoners who refuse housing assignments be issued disciplinary infractions and placed in solitary confinement. Writing was the best thing I could do to embrace and bring purpose to the situation.
Q: Has the process of reporting on your surroundings changed how you live your daily life in prison?
Patrick: For me, no. As for Kelly, his other leg was amputated just before this op-ed was published. It took him becoming a double-amputee stroke victim to be relocated to our prison’s long-term care unit, where he’s now offered more immediate support. My work as a peer-mentor allows me to visit him.
Q: Can you describe the journey of this story from draft to publication? Did you learn anything about yourself as a writer or journalist along the way?
Patrick: This story stemmed from a report of elder abuse that I initiated on Kelly’s behalf. I gave the report some legs by posting it to my blog and directing traffic to it, which caught the attention of PJP Editorial Director Mason Bryan. After Mason asked about my interest in converting the report into an op-ed, I was paired up with Romaissaa Benzizoune, a contract editor for PJP. Romaissaa worked with me through several drafts until the piece was ready to publish.
Some months after it ran, I raised enough money from my fellow prisoners to mail out over 100 copies of it — along with a personal essay I wrote on the value of mentors in prison — to Idaho lawmakers, media and others. It’s been difficult to gauge the impact of this effort because we received so little feedback.
One thing I learned through this process is to keep faith in the things that compel me to speak out on behalf of others.
Kelsey Dodson
What It’s Like to Have Your Period in Prison
“In an environment where nothing is private, even the most basic aspects of personal care become luxuries. For incarcerated women, managing a menstrual cycle is not just a routine part of life — it is often a monumental struggle.”
Q: What drew you to this story? Was there a moment when you thought, “I have to write about this”?
Kelsey: Why we have white panties has been something that I have wondered about for my entire incarceration. It makes you feel ashamed, especially in an open living environment. Subpar sanitary products, limited cleaning options and white panties is a recipe for disaster.
Q: Has the process of reporting on your surroundings changed how you live your daily life in prison?
Kelsey: Writing this article has expanded my abilities to see beyond what I perceive as normal and see it through the lens of someone who has never experienced prison. Here, it is easy to adapt to the abnormal and sometimes shocking way in which we must live. You just do what you have to do in order to survive.
Q: Can you describe the journey of this story from draft to publication? Did you learn anything about yourself as a writer or journalist along the way?
Kelsey: The journey of my story was amazing from the start. I’m a creative person, so I love seeing something come together and evolve. This story took off in the most surprising of ways. Who knew talking about my experience of having a period in prison would become international news! [Editor’s note: The story was co-published by PJP and The Guardian, a British news outlet.] Even though it took over a year from first draft to the final story, through the many (many!) edits and revisions, I enjoyed the entire process.
I learned that what I think and say has importance in the world, and that I matter. I can be a part of a larger conversation. I have the knowledge and ability to make a difference.
Derek S. Carter
Fighting in War Still Didn’t Prepare Me for Prison’s Mental Health Crisis
“My first months as a watcher, I discovered the challenges of my new responsibilities. What I saw in the [crisis stabilization unit] was something more severe and dire than I could have imagined: people who swallowed razors or batteries, lacerated their arms, even one person who shoved a colostomy bag into their abdomen.”
Derek was released from prison after his story came out, and we were unable to get in touch with him for this package.
Derek worked on this story for almost a year. It’s not uncommon for PJP contributors to have long runways to publication, especially because of challenges with sending mail to and from prison. But Derek’s extended time was mostly due to old-fashioned challenges. He revised the story at least five times with the help of myself and a volunteer editor.
At first, Derek’s story focused on a South Carolina court case, but with each draft, it moved toward centering people and putting faces on the mental health issues he witnessed in South Carolina prisons. His background in the military and with PTSD added an extra layer of personal experience that brought extra nuance to his understanding of the mental health challenges people face in U.S. prisons.
In a note to us early on, Derek said that he “writes to inspire and teach,” and he hoped this story would “aid others who may have sub-par [mental health] treatment in their prison.” I think he hit that mark.
— Wyatt Stayner, deputy editor
