I deserved to be punished for fighting; I made a choice. But was four months in solitary confinement an appropriate punishment for getting into a fistfight?
Concern for family and friends still living in Haiti is at the top of every conversation these days among residents as well as correctional officers. One of the dorm sergeants mentioned that he still had a lot of family in Haiti, and the past month had been hell for them, but Haitians were strong people.
For me and my family, the “War on Drugs” has been more like a war on freedom and success and opportunity.
Brown and O’Neil have made it easy to relate to what they experienced before sobriety; I felt like I was there with them all along.
When I got to prison after county jail, I felt naked without a watch. Even the most monotonous details of incarceration could be clocked, and I felt like the earth would stop rotating on its axis, and that time would cease to exist if I wasn’t constantly watching it.
With 94,000 inmates, Florida has the third-highest prison population in the United States, and a large percentage of the inmates have already tested positive. In a state where proper medical treatment for prisoners ranks near the bottom, this is disconcerting to say the least.
As a result of the opioid epidemic and after years of locking up drug users for long periods of time, correctional institutions throughout the country have depleted their resources and drained their budgets while law enforcement officers fight the same ineffective War on Drugs.