Prison Talk – A Day in the Life

A day in confinement can be viewed differently through the eyes of faith. What I have come to experience on a daily basis, despite much chaos and tension, is a peace that starts inwardly and hopefully is visible outwardly. In prison, the structure is so rigid, the routine so predictable, that you can easily become complacent. When I first arrived here, I had this eerie feeling that I was stuck in a never-ending “Ground Hog’s Day.” I’ll try to give you a snapshot of a day, as this is my “true view” from here…
5:35 a.m. Only two other inmates are awake on the tier besides me. One is in the bathroom shaving and the other is drawing.
The one drawing appears to have never gone to sleep. Lights will shoot on in 20 minutes and awaken only a few more. Around 6:10 a.m., the CO’s loud demand to “count up” will act as a free man’s alarm clock, only without the snooze button.
5:53 a.m. I’ve completed my core workout and daily devotions and my prayer time is next. I typically finish these things before 6:30 a.m. mess call. In spite of the depressing surroundings, I deliberately begin each day with thankfulness. I concluded my prayers with a line from the Prayer of Jabez, “That I may cause no more pain.” I am strengthened by a passage in my Streams devotional, “There is never a majestic mountain without a deep valley, and there is never a birth without pain.”
6:16 a.m. “Count Up” came and went and I am getting ready to do more reading and writing. Many inmates are beginning to stir for breakfast, and I watch from my green plastic chair as the chaos continues to rule the moment. Sadly, the majority of the inmates only get out of bed each day to be fed. I cannot imagine viewing this environment through faithless eyes.
6:30 a.m. A sharp, yet familiar, “Count is clear!” is announced over the PA system, meaning all inmates are present. Confinement at its finest. And although there is nothing “fine” about any of this, my eyes of faith uncover a valuable lesson in every view. It’s now 8:10 a.m. and I’m wrapping up my reading and writing for now. I work as a teacher’s assistant and I have to be upstairs in 20 minutes. Many believe working in prison is just a waste of time, but I am convinced that I must not allow this time to go to waste.
11:30 a.m. Lunch mess is called and it’s the same scene as morning mess: many are asleep, some stir, and others are rushing toward the locked gate. Just more controlled chaos and noise.
1:20 p.m. I am back on the unit. I got called down from work to get legal mail. Legal mail to an inmate is always a downer as it reminds us of the pain we caused. Some respond selfishly, others with deep remorse; it just depends on your view. I choose to pray about my mail. I ask God for the wisdom to handle whatever needs handling, and for strength to release that which I have no control over. I refuse to allow negativity to creep into my life. It’s all about weathering the moments as opposed to letting the storm brew for the day.
Time to write some more letters; mail is consistent, so I must be too!
4:20 p.m. Dinner movement has livened the dead from their slumber and now things are really hopping! There are two card games going, the TV is blasting, obscenities are flowing, and rowdy nonsense fills the air. Many are conversing, but not so casually. After dinner, depending on the weather, the pandemonium will continue in the yard. I usually just keep it moving and no more competition for me. In prison, a competition has no winner. If you win and the loser doesn’t like it, he will make sure you lose (and I’m not talking about a rematch).
I learned this the hard way when I first got here. Sports and competition are my background, and many times I “played for fun,” only to find out much later that my competitive spirit almost got me killed. The underlying rule here in prison is “compete at your own risk,” where the risk could be your life, freedom, future, or anything in between.
So for now, I just “keep it moving,” (prison slang for interacting with all social groups,) which is basically what I’ve been doing my entire life anyway. This is how I’ve been able to get to know so many people here, not to mention stay alive and healthy.
8:20 p.m. Back on the tier, rec was good and “safe.” From my bunk, I observe this “Zoo” in all its glory. I see lots of bodies, all dressed alike, but what exactly is being done? I see no purpose, no productivity, no peace. I hear lots of shouting, and competing voices, yet what is being said? (Nothing worth repeating. Trust me!) A fellow inmate just grumbled to another, “This is such a waste of time, isn’t it?” I think, “No, you’re wasting your time.”
11 p.m. I am up later than usual. The lights are now out, so I’m writing under a miniature light. The TV is off, but the chaos lives on! Yet lying here on my bunk, settled (and sleepy!) in the midst of this crazy storm, I cannot help but feel blessed. I’m so grateful for these eyes of faith and the perspective my “true view” offers.
Confined but set free; Tomorrow is another day….
(ED. NOTE: The author, of Court House, is serving five-and-a-half years in state prison after pleading guilty to manslaughter and driving while intoxicated in October 2009. Matt’s blogs have been read by over 100,000 people in every state, 114 countries, and in 67 different languages. www.themattmaherstory.com)