Thin Ice
The CDW gathered up the members of the A’s and Giants as best he could on the Lower Yard, wherein is The Field of Dreams, and told them I was on “thin ice.” This was just after I had received three new death threats. From what I heard the two cons behind the threats had convinced the CDW that I was largely to blame for the troubles between the two baseball teams. “One more time that Philpott acts in an arrogant, rude, or disrespectful way, and he is gone.”
Now how will I proceed? There certainly will be a time when doing nothing more than acting the part of a leader that I will unwittingly provide my enemies with something to tattle to Rodriquez about. A simple decision as a baseball coach during a baseball game, and that could be it.
I figure the CDW got bought by the convicts, persuaded by them, and without talking to me about it at all. All the Giants players, and some A’s players as well, who stood by me, apparently did not matter much.
It is now May, and opening day is two weeks away. There have been no tryouts since the CDW wants to “punish” the cons. One instigator has gone to the hole and is still there,[1] which is a step in the right direction, and rumor has it that he will be transferred to another prison. Rumors are just that though and are often spread just to see how well they do, a kind of perverse entertainment.
Thin ice — I will certainly break through that, and I am at the point I don’t care that much about it. More than a decade and a half and the powers that be could care less. The usual refrain is: “This is a prison you know.” My reply is: “Sure I know I am in a prison, but volunteers should not be treated like convicts.” This is not to say that convicts are to be mistreated, they are abused to be sure, and I guess the thugs who run prisons don’t know the difference between a prisoner and a volunteer or don’t care that there is.
Thugs! Not a complementary label, but I think an accurate one, at least for many who work in prisons. A correctional officer, a new hire — may have the best of intentions and genuinely want to make a difference. I have talked to these, some who were college grads with degrees in psych, sociology, criminal justice, and so on, who saw the job as a way to give back or make a difference.
Things change though, maybe in a few months, maybe it takes a few years. The code of conduct among CO’s does not allow for a touchy-feely approach. There is a certain demeanor that is nearly enforced. Then there is the impact of the cons behavior on the COs. When I talk about this issue with outsiders they are often surprised at this and disbelieving. Prisoners can seem like such wonderful people; they have learned the art of presenting themselves in the best of lights. Without realizing it, people are “turned” and develop an antagonism toward the criminal justice system, which of course is flawed and corrupt like most other human institutions and see the convicts as protagonists. It happens every day. The CO then who comes in with a clean slate is radicalized and without seeing what is happening to him or her and may then become a thug.
Thug behavior is rewarded by the jailers and confirmed by those in jail; it is an example of the proverbial vicious cycle. Abuse begets abuse, and round and round it goes. What matters to the caring young correctional officer is nothing much more than a paycheck with benefits. The ideal for way too many of those who operate our jails and prisons is – lock em up and throw away the key. It is no real wonder that I am on thin ice. If my volunteer card is pulled and I am forced to walk away from a program I have struggled to build over the years, what price will I pay? How long will it take me to get over it? Will I let my heart get
[1] This convict was transferred out of San Quentin during the third week of May, and where, no one seems to know.