Doing Time

 

 

Edited by
Bell Gale Chevigny

Foreword by
Sister Helen Pre jean

 

 

To the memory of
Charles Caldwell (1941-1973)
and
to all the other men and women
who find their voice in prison

 

Copyright © 1999, 2011 by PEN American Center
Foreword © 1999, 2011 by Sister Helen Prejean
Introduction and afterword copyright © 2011 by Bell Gale Chevigny
Section introductions copyright © 1999, 2011 by Bell Gale Chevigny

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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

ISBN: 978-1-61145-144-3

Printed in the United States of America

Foreword
by Sister Helen Prejean

Acknowledgments

Introduction
by Bell Gale Chevigny

I
NITIATIONS

Prison Letter, M. A. Jones

Siempre, William Aberg

Dog Star Desperado, William Orlando

How I Became a Convict, Victor Hassine

Arrival, Judee Norton

T
IME AND
I
TS
T
ERMS

Reductions, William Aberg

Where or When, Jackie Ruzas

An Overture, M. A. Jones

Vivaldi on the Far Side of the Bars, M. A. Jones

Killing Time, Roger Jaco

After Almost Twenty Years, Chuck Culhane

There Isn't Enough Bread, Chuck Culhane

The Manipulation Game: Doing Life in Pennsylvania, Diane Hamill Metzger

Giving Me a Second Chance, Larry Bratt

Myths of Darkness: The Toledo Madman and the Ultimate Freedom, J. R. Grindlay

R
OUTINES AND
R
UPTURES

Spring, Michael Hogan

Autumn Yard, Chuck Culhane

Letters Come to Prison, Jimmy Santiago Baca

Trina Marie, Lori Lynn McLuckie

After Lights Out, Barbara Saunders

poem for the conguero in D yard, Raymond Ringo Fernandez

In the Big Yard, Reginald S. Lewis

Old Man Motown, Patrick Nolan

The Tower Pig, Scott A. Antworth

The Night the Owl Interrupted, Daniel Roseboom

W
ORK

Chronicling Sing Sing Prison, Easy Waters

Cut Partner, Michael E. Saucier

Gun Guard, Michael E. Saucier

Skyline Turkey, Richard Stratton

Suicide! Robert Kelsey

R
EADING AND
W
RITING

Coming into Language, Jimmy Santiago Baca

Pell Grants for Prisoners, Jon Marc Taylor

Tetrina, Bedford Hills Writing Workshop

Sestina: Reflections on Writing, Bedford Hills Writing Workshop

Behind the Mirror's Face, Paul St. John

Black Flag to the Rescue, Michael E. Saucier

P
LAYERS
, G
AMES

I See Your Work, Joseph E. Sissler

solidarity with cataracts, Vera Montgomery

Clandestine Kisses, Marilyn Buck

Ryan's Ruse, Jackie Ruzas

Feathers on the Solar Wind, David Wood

Death of a Duke, Dax Xenos

R
ACE
, C
HANCE
, C
HANGE

First Day on the Job, Henry Johnson

Eleven Days Under Siege, Paul Mulryan

Pearl Got Stabbed! Charles P. Norman

Sam, Michael Wayne Hunter

Lee's Time, Susan Rosenberg

F
AMILY

Ancestor, Jimmy Santiago Baca

Uncle Adam, Diane Hamill Metzger

The Red Dress, Barbara Saundcrs

Ignorance Is No Excuse for the Law, Alcjo Dao'ud Rodriguez

Our Skirt, Kathy Boudin

The Ball Park, Henry Johnson

Norton #59900, Judee Norton

A Stranger, Anthony La Barca Falcone

After My Arrest, Judith Clark

To Vladimir Mayakovsky, Judith Clark

A Trilogy of Journeys, Kathy Boudin

T
HE
W
ORLD

Prisons of Our World, Allison Blake

Pilots in the War on Drugs, Robert J. Moriarty

No Brownstones, Just Alleyways & Corner Pockets Full, J. L. Wise Jr.

Americans, Jon Schillaci

For Sam Manzie, Jon Schillaci

Diner at Midnight, David Taber

The Film, David Taber

The 5-Spot Cafe, Henry Johnson

Melody, J. C. Amberchele

Mel, J. C, Amberchele

G
ETTING
O
UT

Dream of Escape, Henry Johnson

After All Those Years, Ajamu C. B. Haki

Stepping Away from My Father, William Aberg

To Those Still Waiting, M. A. Jones

The Break, Robert M. Rutan

D
EATH
R
OW

For Mumia: I Wonder, Kathy Boudin

Easy to Kill, Jackie Ruzas

Recipe for Prison Pruno, Jarvis Masters

Conversations with the Dead, Stephen Wayne Anderson

Walker's Requiem, Anthony Ross

“Write a poem that makes no sense,” Judith Clark

Notes

Text Credits

About the Authors

Afterword: More About the Authors

When I read anything I'm always hoping the writer will take me into realms of experience I wouldn't otherwise have, experiences that push the edges of human life and our ways of doing things, put me up against myself and make me ask: What would I do in this situation, who would I become? Adventure stories are like that. Prison writings are like that. “Come with me,” these convict writers say, “I'll take you into my world. Hang on. It's quite a ride.”

Quite a ride indeed. I am not unacquainted with prison life. I've visited prisoners for fourteen years, accompanied four men to execution, know a lot about death row, wrote a book,
Dead Man Walking.
But I know I'm an outsider. I've never heard the clang of bars behind me as I said good-bye to freedom. Never had all the eyes in the room turn to me, “fresh meat,” coming in. At the end of each visit I get to walk out. And every time I find myself taking deep gulps of freedom.

Here are fifty-one writers who take us into a world we hope we never do more than visit. A world where you never touch a doorknob, where you have no control over your environment. A world without privacy, a world of frequent strip-searches, a world where the “shakedown crew” swoops down upon you and throws all your stuff out of your “box” into a heap, laughing, pointing at your photos, walking across your baby's smile. A world where many of the people have serious personality disorders, and you can't get away from them. A razor-wired world where you never sit under a tree because the yard is stripped bare for securiry reasons, where security governs everything.

We incarcerate a whole lot of people in this country: 1.8 million, more than any other country in the world. We are building a small country of these throwaway people. How can you expect literature from the refuse pile of humanity? Who would look for eloquence from convicts? Or insight or depth of thought or honesty or the intimacy of self-revelation? Watch for the self-serving subtext. When your heart is moved, can you trust it? When you feel for the writers of these words, are you being had? Cynicism about convicts is in our bones.

Test this doubt by sampling these pages. The words in them have made their way into our hands against great odds. Several of these writers have done long stretches of time in the hole for their writing. Why, at such cost, do they write? Read their reasons in the back of this book. To bear witness, to stay sane, to keep their heart pumping, to not be eaten up by rage or despair, to figure out how they got there, or to discover what truly matters — these are just some of them.

And then they hone their craft — if they're lucky, in workshops, more often in the horrific din of the cellblock — learning to get past the words other people say to that voice of their own they almost doubt they have. Somehow they hear of the PEN prison writing contest, hear that at the very least someone will read what they wrote and write back. They decide to take a chance.

I think this book is a significant piece of literature. What do you think? The writers are locked away from you, but you've already opened a door to their world. Step inside. You'll never be the same.

Sister Helen Prejean

March 1999

I am grateful to the Center on Crime, Communities and Culture of the Open Society Institute for awarding me a Soros Senior Justice Fellowship to pursue this project. I thank especially director Nancy Mahon, Katherine Diaz, Miriam Porter, Mart Cotter, and Soros Justice Fellows Joycelyn Pollock, Ellen Barry, and Angela Brown.

My greatest debt is to all members of the PEN Prison Writing Program committee over the years who cared enoguh to read through the formidable mass of manuscript and to write something constructive to each contestant. And especially to our invaluable Prison Writing Program director, Jackson Taylor, and the current members of the committee who entrusted me with this task and pointed me in the direction of interesting work: Susan Braudy, Beth Dembitzer, Bob Hamburger, Starry Krueger, Claudia Menza, Janine Pommy Vega, Marie Ponsot, Rochelle Ratner, Sue Rosen, Joan Silber, Layle Silbert, and Chuck Wachtel. Members Fielding Dawson, Hettie Jones, Bibi Wein, and Jackson Taylor offered very useful reactions to my first raw selection. Anthologists Fielding, Janine, and Hettie also helped locate texts and ex-prisoners, Chuck and Marie offered poetic counsel, and Bibi editorial experience. Current chair Hettie was a ready ear and wise adviser every step of the way.

For searching files and memories to recreate the story of PEN's origins, I am grateful to Thomas Fleming, Lucy Kavaler, Vicki Lindner, Ann McGovern, Kathrin Perutz, and especially John Morrone, who for several years helped place prison writings in magazines. At PEN in the late eighties, Gara LaMarche helped rescue the PWP from near-death and later supported it materially from his position at the Open Society Institute. From the PEN staff, special thanks to PWP Coordinator Agustin Maes for swift provision of vital PWP materials. I appreciate the consistent backing of PEN American Center's former and current executive directors, Karen Kennerly and Michael Roberts, and especially President Michael Scammel.

From Fortune Society, Harvey Isaccs, Sheila Maroney, and Sylvia McKeane helped me locate past winners' texts; so did Harry Smith, of the
Smith
, and Martin Tucker, of
Confrontation.
Anthologists and prison teachers Joe Bruchac, Janet Lembke, and Richard Shelton aided in locating authors. For generously sharing their myriad expertise, I thank Claudia Angelous, Jennie Brown, Raymond A. Brown, Scott Christianson, Lois Morris, H. Bruce Franklin, Jim Knipfel, Mark Mauer, Dorothy Potter, and Richard Stratton. I am indebted to John and Sue Leonard and the
Nation
for publishing my article on PEN prison writing.