Forgive Me For I Know Not What I Do...

Matthew Davis                                                                         Stateville Correctional Center

This is a strange time of year for me. February 29th marked the 12th anniversary of my arrest for murder. Something strange happens to me around this time every year and for the longest time I didn't even know it was happening. What happens is that I lose interest in almost everything positive in my life and I fall into melancholy. In these weeks I feel the full weight of my guilt, I feel like, due to my unforgivable mistake, I do not deserve to have anything good in my life so I unconsciously become lax in anything positive I've got going on. My loved ones usually suffer the effects the most by my unexplained distance.
It's only been the last couple of years that  I've actually been able to put a label on what I feel. Guilt. I don't like feeling this way even though I know I SHOULD. Guilt. Shame. Overwhelming sadness. Confusion. Regret above all. I think about all I've gone through these past twelve years...the torture, beatings, and other indignities at the hands of the police...The years of isolation... My child knowing another man as "dad"... The pain I see on my families face...The horrible things I've witnessed... It's all taken a toll. I know that to some people all of that is not enough pain or punishment and in fact, NO amount of pain or punishment will ever be enough. I wonder what's the point? If no amount of suffering is enough to atone, will anything be enough?
I wonder... If I had not been caught... If I had been so affected by what happened that I spent the next 50 years, the rest of my life, working with children, the homeless, at risk youths, anything, just giving of myself without gain or expectation, would that be enough? If I then confessed on my deathbed, would I be viewed as evil, unworthy of love or happiness?
I say all of this because I am surrounded by wasted human lives. I live in a cesspool of suffering and NO GOOD COMES FROM IT! Longer, tougher sentences do not deter or reduce crime. Making someone suffer every indignity known does not bring anyone back to life. It does not make society better or safer. It does not make anyone truly feel better. BUT what if I was given the opportunity to actually serve society?
I'm not suggesting that I be let out of prison tomorrow or even ten years from now. I need to be punished for my reckless actions. I abused drugs and alcohol and the worst happened. I took a life. I SHOULD be punished. I SHOULD suffer. I SHOULD feel guilt and shame. But I should feel all of that for a PURPOSE. My purpose in life has become to use all I've suffered to keep the next person from making the same mistakes.
That is the future I dream of when my guilt and shame force me into submission. That thought gives me the hope to push through and FIGHT towards my purpose.

Matt

24/7

Matthew Davis                                       Stateville CC                                      Crest Hill, Illinois

The question I'm asked most often by people not in prison is “what is it like in there?”. My answer is usually “it sucks.” While that answer is totally accurate it does nothing to describe what its really like in here. The truth of the matter is that inmates are victimized and dehumanized nearly every second of every day. I'm not talking about the victimization sensationalized on every prison movie or show on TV where we are depicted as this cancerous society destroying ourselves. You've all been conditioned to believe that violence, rape, theft and extortion are prevalent amongst the inmate population. Yes those things do happen but it is mostly done to us by prison staff. Any violence, real violence,  is promoted and facilitated by prison staff. Confused? Let me put it this way. Prison is like high school nearly everyone knows everyone. Everyone, including staff, knows who the troublemakers and bugs are. Troublemakers are tolerable, but bugs are not. In case you're wondering, a bug is someone who is basically crazy in the weirdest ways. They exhibit any of the following behaviors... cut themselves, talk to imaginary people, do not wash their bodies, scream and holler, have major OCD, and just do weird shit in general. I know that doesn't sound bad, but imagine being locked in a 10x12 box with one 24 hours a day. But I digress. My point is that staff knows who these guys are and in order to create unease and unrest they force those of us who can cope and deal with this situation to live with those guys. Right this very instant my cellmate is sitting three feet away from me arguing with an imaginary person. I have been locked in this box with him for almost a year for nearly 24 hours a day. Do you think the stress is hurting or helping me? I have to sleep in here with a guy who quite obviously hear voices or some shit and, oh did I mention he is a convicted murderer. There are enough bugs to house them together but they would rather put them with us. So, the violence, the real violence, comes when you had back to back bug ass cellies for years and one of them finally crosses generous line you’ve drawn. You are forced to beat, mame or even kill that person because let's face it no one’s coming to help you. You’re in a  small ass concrete box with a murderer and well shit happens.

So that's what it's like inside your cell. Once you leave your cell for 20 or 30 minutes, maybe a couple hours if you're lucky, you got a deal with the officers bullshit. Everyday is met with a new, unexpected, irrational rule. Today you can wear a ball cap but are told to take your hands out of your pocket. Tomorrow, you can put your hands in your pockets, but can't wear hats. The next day you can do both but have to stop 50 times in the hundred feet it takes to get to the dining room. It's insane, but effective for mental domination.

At times it seems like the only relief you can find is with a friend or family outside of here. There's a few catches, though. If you want to call someone it's nearly five bucks for a 30 minute call. If you want to write a letter, the mail room is nearly a month behind so while my letter will get to you and 3 or 4 days your response won’t reach me for about a month. If I am blessed to have someone willing to visit me they will be forced to endure rude, overbearing officers in the visiting room with blasting AC in the winter. I might get one visit, but the chances of another are slim.

It may seem like I'm complaining. I guess I am. But my complaint does not stem from my treatment. My complaint comes from the fact that my treatment is in direct contradiction to the mission statement of prison. Just go to IDOC.com and tell me if my treatment, my environment is conducive to the goals of allegedly set forth by the prison system.

After this rant, you can see now why I always stick to the simple answer of “it sucks”.