Sure, the abuse I expected was there, but it seldom came from other inmates.Īs soon as we arrived, I was stripped naked, told to shower, then photographed and given a number: 470236. And from the second we arrived I realized something was off. Our next stop was the largest walled prison in the world, a dungeon in Jackson, Michigan. The day arrived when a dozen of us were escorted to the front of the jail, then chained together and loaded into a van. But the hardest part for me was perfecting the dead-eyed stare I practiced in the mirror, hoping a cold exterior would be enough to keep me out of trouble. I also ate big meals and high-calorie snacks to pack on as many pounds as possible. Between sets of 340 pushups, I pounded out situps, jumping jacks and knee curls. Whenever I was locked in my jail cell or had a few minutes to kill, I would flip and dip, trying to harden up. The deck of cards came out the day I realized I was going to prison. That knowledge, false as it was, drove me. Long before I was headed there, I was convinced that prison was a paradise for monsters and a hellhole for people like me. And all that was nothing compared to the dread I felt about the shower. I would probably have to kick someone’s ass the first day. There would be chants of “Fresh Fish” and candy bars on my pillow.
I learned from those fictional spaces that there was a good chance I would be sexually assaulted shortly after I arrived.
I had never been to an actual prison, but I had spent hours in TV and film facilities like Fox River (“Prison Break”), Oz (“Oz”) and Shawshank (“The Shawshank Redemption”). I was also young-23 years old when I was arrested-and my thin frame had me worried. My four prior felony convictions meant I was looking at a lengthy sentence, so when the prosecutor offered one to five years in exchange for just three guilty pleas, I jumped.Īs you can probably guess from the plea deal, I am White. Every few days another store would match surveillance footage to a mugshot making the rounds-a dark-eyed photograph of me being booked into jail. Once I was arrested, the charges stacked up faster than the courts could keep pace: identity thefts, forgery, fraud and auto theft, not to mention probation violation. My normally thin frame had withered to gaunt, along with my self-confidence.
OZ TV SHOW RAPE PLUS
Life on the streets plus a steady diet of mainlined cocaine and heroin had taken their toll. At the time of my arrest both arms were covered in track marks.
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