Bullies

Prey and predators, it will be one or the other.

            If you are weak you can be taken advantage of. Maybe it will be desserts handed over, money for the cantine, maybe clothes, maybe sex.

            Brutal, mean, and cruel are words that describe the animal kingdom. It also describes prison life. Without a “car” meaning a group of people that you belong to, a convict is vulnerable.

Gangs are a way of life even if you are in a prison where known gang members are shipped out to prisons better able to provide higher levels of custody. It is mostly racial, the blacks, the whites, Hispanics, Pacific Islanders, and a few others but smaller tribes. Sociologists study tribal behavior and they would only have to spend some time in a prison to find  a good sample to run a study on.

Old cons will have demands made on them by younger, tougher cons. The old guys, without backing, can be made into sexual slaves. Strong language, well, I don’t think so. The weak, the gang less, the tribe less–these become prey.

Race, sex, drugs, and power are the driving forces of prison life. Race is the larger tribe; being a member of a dominate race brings power, power to get what you want, mostly sex and drugs, but also smaller favors .

Every convict that comes into the prison is scouted to determine their power position, by other cons. Even the buff, strong looking guys are vulnerable without a gang identity. Sometimes cons will claim an incoming inmate as a sex punk before they even arrive. This is not lost on the administration, and there are segregation cells for those who ask for protection due to one thing or another, but the predators most often, eventually, have their way.

The chapter is titled “bullies,” which is not a prison term but a contemporary word used in the society at large. Bullies are active in schools, from elementary all the way to college, but mostly among the younger kids. Finding a weakness in others is a kid’s game. I remember telling bullies even at Woodlawn Grammar School in Portland, Oregon during the 1940s, “My dad can beat up your dad.” In high school I was bullied all the way until my senior year. I know what it is like and I hate it. When I became a man, I refused to give in to anyone; I will stand up for myself even if it means getting the crap beat out of me. This attitude has gotten me into a lot of trouble at San Quentin.

Perhaps my intolerance to going along to get along is why I have survived thirty years as a volunteer at the prison. Maybe, but it sure has landed me solidly in the trouble I am in now. I refuse to give into the bullies who made demands on me, accuse me of racism, and put out death threats against me. Throw me out completely, okay, but I am not going to bend over so I can keep my beige volunteer card.

Someone might ask, “How could a convict bully a volunteer?” Let me count the ways. One, plant a contraband item in a coach’s equipment bag. Two, accuse the coach of over familiarity like groping or something akin to that. Three, accuse the coach of bringing items in to favored inmates, again, over familiarity but more serious. Four, have friends on the outside make unwelcome contact with the volunteer. Five, start a rumor campaign designed to defame a coach, which it appears is happening to me right now.

This last one may seem less serious than the others, but to me it is not. My reputation is important to me and I will stand up for it. The trouble is at the prison volunteers have little opportunity to address the issues brought up in rumors. The prison officials don’t have the time or the obligation of doing so. Often the accusation of a convict will be enough. No appeal, no chance to confront an accuser, no defense at all. The inmates are aware of this and use it to their advantage. Bully all they want and it rarely results in any discipline.

Most volunteers come into a prison like San Quentin to do some good and are naïve about the dynamics swirling about them. So many quit when they feel the pressure; others are not able to and become foils, the ducks cons love to __uck.

Reality is there are the good, there are the ugly, and there are the bad.