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NEWS & LETTERS, April 2002
Column: Voices from the Inside Out by Robert TaliaferroThe threat of ten stamped
envelopes What do ten embossed stamped
envelopes, Source and Vibe magazines, and photographs of happy and healthy Black
children have in common? They are all considered as contraband in a private
prison run by the Corrections Corporation of America (CCA). In prison lingo the
term contraband relates to anything that is considered to be a threat to the
security of a prison. Many would question that any of
the above items would be a threat for they do not look to present a "clear
and present danger." To the special committees that make up prison rules,
however, they are more dangerous than a home made prison knife. In the case of Source and Vibe,
a prison memo which outlaws them states that they depict gang-oriented material
from time to time and, as a result, are now defined as "gang-related."
In the case of the photographs and stamped envelopes perhaps it is because
photographs allow one to feel a bit more human; and perhaps the envelopes allow
one the resources to contact family and friends—giving the prisoner the
opportunity to spend a few moments outside of the walls. Private prisons, with no set
guidelines for establishing policies and procedures, are hotbeds of abuse when
it comes to their control efforts. One of the biggest problems with that is that
private prisons can usually get away with things that would cause censure in
publicly operated facilities. Public prisons must promulgate
rules that conform to legislated guidelines for the conduct of their employees,
services rendered, and the establishment of prisoner rights. Private prisons, on
the other hand, purport to follow standards established by the American
Correctional Association (ACA), and are required to be certified by that
association in order to operate or contract with states. The ACA, of course, is
also a private company whose membership has a vested interest in the
continuation of corrections, and it is a rare occurrence that the ACA will not
certify a prison—even the worst managed. Additionally, private prisons
are—in theory—monitored by the contracting state (or the host state), but
this monitoring process is usually a rubber stamp of the conduct and actions of
the facility. After all, no state would ever admit that sending its prisoners to
private prisons was a mistake. INCREASING PROFITS AND
CONTROL Private prisons are operated
like chain store subsidiaries of a larger corporation, and as profits are not
what they used to be in the trade of people, there are incentives to cut corners
in an already bare-bones operation. In some private facilities this
means longer hours for staff, prisoner deaths due to poor health care and
improper procedures, hiring staff who are not qualified to work in the public
sector, and the promulgation of policies and procedures that are abusive even by
normal prison standards. The prison-industrial complex has also found ways to include the families and friends of prisoners in the charade by creating policies and procedures that create hurdles to control legitimate commerce. The result of this control is the "authorized vendor." The purpose of these
vendors—by doctrine—is to control the entry of contraband into a prison, but
what they have become is a monopoly created by government that gives these
authorized vendors unfair advantages since other vendors are restricted from
competing for commerce from prisoners or their families. These authorized
vendors generally make their money exclusively from prisoners and their
families, in essence monopolizing prisoner trade for a few private companies
that have ties to private prison concerns. In addition to the stated
contraband issue, there is an even greater incentive to require authorized
vendors—or to purchase items directly from the prison. It allows companies to
unload factory seconds on a market that does not have the option of choice, at
inflated prices that range from 100-300% or more above wholesale. DISALLOWING HUMANITY This brings us full circle to
how ten embossed stamped envelopes, family photographs, and magazines can be
perceived as a threat to a prison. Information is power, and communication
inside of a prison (to the outside) is perhaps the most regulated prison
commodity. Every attempt is made by prison administrators to limit this aspect
of prison life. These restrictions come in a
variety of ways: limits on stamp purchases; stigmatizing prisoners and their
families by placing large, bold stamps on the front of envelopes signifying that
the letter "originated from prison"; conveniently losing incoming or
outgoing mail, or allowing unscrupulous prison staff to have access to
prisoners' families' addresses, giving them the ways and means to harass those
individuals. With policies in practice to lessen family and community support
the prison-industrial complex can conduct its business with near impunity. The danger of a stamp is
representative, rather than justifiable. When restricted, it disallows
intellectual freedom. The threat of a photograph is spiritual. When restricted
it disallows humanity. The risk of a magazine is information. When restricted it
disallows growth. When Amnesty International has a fund-raising campaign, it sends along a little card that asks the recipient to sign and return. The card is then sent to political prisoners around the world to let them know that "they are not forgotten." Therein lies the true threat of ten embossed stamped envelopes. After all...if one well-placed letter can start a landslide of hope, ten letters could cause a revolution. |
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