Criminal Justice

My First Days: Adjusting to Life in Prison

Published June 15, 2009 @ 10:10AM PT

When DEA agents first arrested me in 1987, a cavalier attitude blocked my ability to grasp the gravity of my problems. As far as I understood, the government’s case against me hinged on the testimony of witnesses. They had been caught with cocaine or money from cocaine transactions; they bargained for a lower sentence by pleading guilty and cooperating with prosecutors in the case against me. Since the agents did not catch me with tangible evidence, I deluded myself into believing that a jury would not convict me. I was wrong. I was only 23-years-old then, and I didn’t know upon my arrest that I would serve decades inside the federal prison system.

It was not until after the jury returned its unanimous verdict of guilt on all counts that I accepted the mess I had made of my life. When the delusions of acquittal yielded to the reality of conviction, remorse began to take root. I realized the disappointment and shame I had brought to my family, my community. Those feelings inspired a need to change, a commitment to reconcile with society.

An inherent cynicism prohibited those in the judicial system from considering my expressions of remorse. The prosecutors and judge stood convinced that the only reason I felt remorseful was because I had been caught. They were correct, of course.

Had I not been caught and convicted, I would not have seen the harm. As far as I was concerned then, my actions did not differ from those who supplied speakeasies during prohibition. Violence did not play a role in my efforts to distribute cocaine to consenting adults. That attitude rather than my maturing conscience resulted in my 45-year sentence.

I accepted that I would serve decades in prison, though that acceptance came with a commitment to change. By the time I transferred from the county jail to the high-security United States Penitentiary where I would begin my term, I knew that I wanted to emerge as a different kind of man. To reach that goal, I needed to put thoughts about imminent release out of my mind. Instead of appeals or legal loopholes that might reduce my sentence, I embraced the reality that I would serve a long time. I needed to grow and mature as a human begin, to prove worthy of my American citizenship. I had taken that gift for granted during a reckless transition from late teens into early twenties.

The federal sentencing scheme in place at the time of my conviction differed from the law that exists today. I was sentenced during the pre-guideline era. As such, I was classified as an old-law prisoner. Accordingly, a 45-year sentence meant that as long as administrators did not charge me with violating prison rules, release would come in 26 years.

In my early 20s, I could not comprehend such a lengthy term in prison. My expected imprisonment exceeded the number of years I had yet been alive. Having never been confined before, I had to adjust. Rather than dwelling on what seemed like forever, I focused on the first decade. After 22 continuous years of imprisonment, my daily routines now differ from the way I began. Back then, a single question guided my initial adjustment: What steps could I take during the first 10 years of my sentence to redeem my criminal convictions? I had to think about the people with whom I wanted to identify.

I did not have an interest in becoming a permanent member of the growing prison subculture. To me, it seemed a cycle of continuing failure inside the walls, and I didn’t want it conditioning me or driving my adjustment. My hopes were to return to society, and so I thought about what American citizens beyond prison boundaries would expect of a long-term prisoner. People in society, I reasoned, would have preconceptions about an individual who served more than half of his life in prison. For some, those preconceptions would lead to prejudice and lawful discrimination. If I did not take specific steps to overcome such obstacles, I anticipated that employers would not hire me, landlords would not accept me as a tenant, and lenders would not extend me credit. If I did not prepare to overcome such hurdles, my release after 26 years might prove worse than imprisonment.

To avoid the bleak future that could await my release after decades of imprisonment, I developed a deliberate adjustment plan. That plan would have three parts, making every day count. During my years inside I would strive:

1)    To educate myself,
2)    To contribute to society, and
3)    To build a strong network of support

Such goals, I hoped, would serve many purposes. Among other purposes, the goals would bring meaning to my life, they would minimize feelings of estrangement, and they would connect me with people in society who would have a vested interest in my success upon release. A positive offshoot of living in constant pursuit of goals was that I had self-imposed but clear reasons to avoid behavior, activities, or interactions that might expose me to disciplinary troubles.

A long prison sentence could extinguish hope. The months turning into years, and the years turning into decades, could alienate the prisoner from society. Many prisoners coped with their separation from family, friends, and the values that hold society together by embracing the hate that pervades the penitentiary. My three-part plan helped me focus. Because of that plan, I always had hope.

To be continued tomorrow...

[Editor's Note: Read Part Two - "Two Decades Later" - here.]

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Comments (12)

  1. carolyn  brown

    This sounds alot like what my son is beginning to face. He is in low security, (Thank God) for that after 13 months in county jail. This is a disgrace that someone with an addiction can be given such a severe sentence that takes an entire life. Why, where is the reasoning for this method of punishment. Why waste a life when mandatory rehab for a couple of years would be more effective. This sounds like a very unusual young man that focused on the future, regardless how bleak, but don't you think the government destroyed his life as well as his family. Again, I ask, WHY? No one won in this or any other case like this!! Everyone needs to contact Senator Jim Webb who is spearheading the fight for changes. www.webb.senate.gov    

    Posted by carolyn brown on 06/15/2009 @ 05:17PM PT

  2. Leigh Graham

    Looking forward to the next chapter of this story...

    Posted by Leigh Graham on 06/16/2009 @ 05:35AM PT

  3. Michelina Docimo

    you've accomplished more in prison than what some people have who have free lives.  i applaud you for taking responsibility for your actions and your future.  A 45-year sentence for drugs seems inhumane to me.  Was violence involved? 

    Posted by Michelina Docimo on 06/16/2009 @ 06:40AM PT

  4. Nicholas Penning

    Mandatory minimums for nonviolent crimes are an outrage in this society.  Young men and women locked up for years, subject to the physical and mental torture that is prison, while the rest of us go one with our lives and ignore their fate.  And this 'land of the free' has more people locked up than any other nation on Earth.  We used to be second to the Soviet Union, but that's no longer true.  How can we not be disgraced by this?  Work to end these harmful and disgusting injustices, so Carolyn's son and Michael can be free soon.

    Posted by Nicholas Penning on 06/16/2009 @ 06:50AM PT

  5. Sabrina Alvarez

    Do I believe that Cocaine distribution should be a slap on the hand? No.  Definitely not.  I am a straight edge young single mom who has never picked up a drug in my life but can not find any reason why those actions would prison a 23 year old with no prior jail time for 45 years.  Maybe I don't know the whole story, who knows?  Just seems insane. 
    You have a lot of strength.. I think of myself as a strong person but feel as if I couldn't hold my head up for that long.  Your story is interesting and I look forward to reading the rest.
    God bless!

    Posted by Sabrina Alvarez on 06/16/2009 @ 08:43AM PT

  6. Debbie Rhodes

    This story make's me sick to my stomach. How can these people take this guy's life and turn it upside down like this.45yrs.That's crazy.I think he's done enough time. Now it's time for him to go home.

    Posted by Debbie Rhodes on 06/16/2009 @ 09:21AM PT

  7. Marvin Mirsky

    In a movie called Demolition Man the prison system is changed and convicts go through a rehabilitation program. I know the technlogy in the movie is above and beyond us, but the idea of using rehabilitation that works vs using detention and ineffective rehabilitation seems much better.

    A good rehabilitation program would:
    -have convicts forced to pass charm school
    -served time learning in class 3 hours a day and not leave prison untill he/she pass all tests. Use an E-learning software.
    -no weight training, only aerobics
    -serve cheap health foods, no salt, and no sugar. Health foods would be celery, carrots, spinach
    -Only educational channels on television.
    -Create an "after-prison" community, which is a community they will go to after time is served and after several years about 4 years, the convict will be given the option to stay in the community with his/her job and his/her life or move wherever he/she so desires.

    Posted by Marvin Mirsky on 06/16/2009 @ 10:18AM PT

  8. Michelina Docimo

    Marvin - i love your ideas.  they make so much sense and would be so easy to implement.  The program you describe would even stimulate the economy because you would need fitness trainers (i think yoga should be added to the list), doctors trained in rehabilitation, nurses, teachers and guidance advisors.  It teaches convicts a healthy lifestyle through habit and learning - something that no one probably ever taught them. 

    Posted by Michelina Docimo on 06/17/2009 @ 06:18AM PT

  9. Reply to thread
  10. Carrie Lachapelle

    I wish you all the best Michael. I applaud you for taking responsibility for your choices and taking the steps to better your life. It is time for you to go home.

    Posted by Carrie Lachapelle on 06/16/2009 @ 03:16PM PT

  11. Romy Carver

    I have a 24 year old son and this just breaks my heart in two.  I'm so sorry, Michael.  There's a big difference between punishment and discipline.  Our society's justice system operates from a base of punishment rather than discipline.  Yet in a cruel and punitive situation in which most people would fold, you somehow had the fortitude to use self-discipline to better yourself.  I am rooting for you to gain your freedom so you can continue to make this world a better place for people both in and outside the walls.

    Posted by Romy Carver on 06/16/2009 @ 04:07PM PT

  12. Rev Bookburn

    Incredible story. You deserve credit to working wonders with your mind, despite the barbaric system. Mandatory minimum laws and similar ones that rule out judges' discretion are the highest outrage. It's time to free non-violent/ weed/ victimless prisoners, bring back parole, and pass the Second Chance Act. If we run out of prisoners, we can go after pedophile priests, anti-choice terrorists, and corporate criminals. Rev. Bookburn - Radio Volta

    Posted by Rev Bookburn on 06/16/2009 @ 04:25PM PT

  13. Jeffrey Hill

    I was convicted by a jury of the prosector's and cop's peers of a fairy tale in 1986.  The case was so perjuriously infantile that the corrupt sent "a contingent of state police observers" to the rigged preliminary hearing to beat up my public defender and steal the tape recording of the 2-20-86 preliminary hearing (see 2-21-86 Williamsport (Pa.) Sun-Gazette, p.15, "Edgy Police Rush to Seize Innocent Paper Bag").   My sell-out public defender got with their program to further his corrupt career by helping them surreptitiously to wrongfully imprison me and screw up my appeals (see 635 A2d 186-191, esp. at 189; with 566 A2d 252-253; 631 A2d 213).

    Posted by Jeffrey Hill on 06/26/2009 @ 03:04PM PT

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Author

Michael G. Santos has been incarcerated since 1987. He has earned an undergraduate and a graduate degree during his confinement, and he contributes to society through his writings about prisons, the people they hold, and strategies for growing through confinement. His daily entries are at prisonnewsblog.com.

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