Friday Philosophy: Inside the walls

I was asked by someone to recount some of my experiences working as a correctional specialist (aka prison guard) when I was in the US Army (1971-73).  I decided to try to write about that for this evening, although those are not the easiest memories I have to work through, so there will probably be fewer stories than maybe I should have.

I’ve written a little bit about the experience before.  One of the pieces was Ever, which was about prison rape and other mistreatment of our prisoner population.  The other, Bummer of a week, mostly, was written near last Memorial Day.

I’ve also recounted some odds and ends in comments over the years.

Spec 5 (Robyn Elaine)* Serven

US Army, 1971-1973.  Correctional Specialist, United States Disciplinary Barracks, Ft. Leavenworth, KS.  Presidential Commendation from Richard Milhouse Nixon** for my work in the Prisoner Pay Section of the Finance Office at Ft. Leavenworth.

*not the name I served under

**I do not acknowledge this often

I was a prison guard at the Disciplinary Barracks in Ft. Leavenworth, then moved on to the prisoner pay unit [In one year, we fixed the payment system for prisoners which was as much as 6 years behind and got a presidential commendation for doing so].  Most of the people in the prison were there because they were fuck-ups, not because they were criminals.  Hard to be proud of protecting the world from fuck-ups.

Someone once asked why and when people here at Daily Kos got involved in politics.  I wrote an answer:

The answer depends on what sort of politics one asks about.  As a young person, when I lived as a man, my pacificist belief lead me to refuse to participate in killing, but it was unlikely that I would be able to get conscientious objector status, so I chose to dodge the draft as well.  But I did still want to work towards establishing a better society, so I went to Haight Ashbury, where I could hopefully participate in that anonymously.  I worked at the Diggers sometimes, making bread or pancakes to feed the street people, of which I was one.  I participated in several demonstrations (what those in charge called riots) in San Francisco and Berkeley against the war and also against tyranny in this country.

I participated in the Poor People’s March on Washington, traveling across the country in buses to Resurrection City in DC in order to protest poverty.

After my daughter was born, she became the focus of my efforts.  After getting discovered by the FBI I spent 2 years in the military (thankfully away from combat, or I would have deserted), rising to the level of Spec 5 as a correctional specialist at the United States Disciplinary Barracks, I finished my education and became a college professor, spending the past 30 years teaching young people.

In 1992 I came out as being transsexual, transitioning from 1992-1994.  Every minute of my life since the day I came out has been a political act, simply because I exist.

But then again, the way I look at it, the vast majority of my life as an adult has been a political act for some purpose.

Posting at Daily Kos is a political act.

Robyn

It wasn’t difficult to calculate how much time would be left for a tour of duty overseas after basic training at Ft. Lewis, WA and advanced individual training (AIT) at Ft. Gordon, GA.  An extra month in correctional specialist school would mean not enough time left for a tour of duty at Long Binh Jail, the US military prison in Vietnam.  The enlisted folks ended up getting sent to Okinawa.  Those of us who were draftees were sent to various stockades at bases in the US.  In their infinite wisdom, the powers that be sent me and my friends to the Big House the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Ft. Leavenworth, KS.

The first one of our group who reported in after two weeks of leave was appointed the company clerk because he could type.  That would later pay off in the rest of us getting better jobs.  But initially it was a standard eight-hour shift, with three in the cell blocks followed by five hours in the towers.  Being in a tower meant being armed, with the possibility of having to shoot at someone, but the most danger we encountered was actually the possibility of being caught sleeping on post.

Fortunately we were allowed to bring radios to help keep us awake.  So I got to become a fan of the KC Royals with their new sensation, George Brett, and I got to listen to some alternative music I might not have normally discovered.

We had a chance to do a lot of thinking in the towers, about the nature of prison and incarceration.  My personal viewpoint was that there was more warehousing and less “correction” than there should have been.  Prisoners should have a chance to learn how to avoid repeating criminal behavior.

Eventually our friend, the company clerk, was given the task of selecting some of the company members for duty in the Prisoner Pay section of the Finance Office…and he selected his friends.  The rest of our time in the military was spent trying to unscrew-up the financial records of the inmates, many of whom were due, if not money for themselves, allotment checks for their families.  And on weekends, we still got to pull duty inside the prison, either in the visitation area or at the first-run movie that would be shown.  Our job would be to make sure that there was no smoking, no fighting, and no contraband exchange.

Our prison system is a totally screwed up, racist piece of trash.  Of course, that is only my opinion.  If you wish to share your own viewpoint, that is why I posted this piece.