Many would claim this prisoner has nothing left in the world, but she is homesick. She is homesick for freedom, friends, and experiences.
The problem is that there is no faith in the medical system here. We have witnessed medical neglect and malpractice every day. Lawsuit decisions favor the prison, and nothing ever changes.
When we are all put together, it presents special challenges to a prison population that may already be conflicted about gender issues.
This latest outbreak of COVID-19 is spreading, and we don’t know where it will end.
If the local news anchor reported a story about eight women living in a 19-by-24-foot studio apartment, red flags would fly high about subpar living conditions. Yet that is how most women live within the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR).
So many prisoners from all races want this man dead, especially the Black race. Not only does he have to worry about being targeted and possibly murdered in prison, but the gangs will put a price on his head to deliver him to those who want to take justice in their own hands.
I had suffered several miscarriages before and so being pregnant was a scary experience, but maybe this time would be different. I told my sisters immediately. I had lost my last pregnancy the day after I took the test, and when I took this one, it was almost a year to the day, but I held on to hope.
Our prison, the one I am expected to live and die in, could be a place to help those with hope of leaving by giving them a chance to rehabilitate. But all it does is force inmates into survival mode.
When you look at me, I can feel you putting me into one of your preconceived boxes you have for inmates. You might be right—but there is a better chance you are not.
Mourning a death in prison is not like mourning a death in the free world. In prison, you are not likely to have others around you who knew the person you lost.