Insiders

by Olivia Goldsmith

  ‘That’s right,’ Jennifer said, and took out a piece that she held before her.

  Amnesty International documented custodial sexual misconduct toward female prisoners in forty-eight states. This may not be surprising given that the number of women in prisons and jails has tripled in the last fifteen years and that at least forty percent of those guarding women are men. But until two years ago, sexual abuse of prisoners by correctional officials was not even a criminal offense in fourteen states. Today, thanks to the efforts of Amnesty and other groups, only five states remain without such laws. What remains is to enforce them.

  Curt Goering, Deputy Executive Director of Amnesty International USA 4/15/01

  Gwen could see Byrd lose all his color. Good, Goddamnit. She had to stop feeling sorry for everyone. ‘Unfortunately,’ Jennifer said, ‘we are in one of the states where you can’t be tried for the rape of Suki Conrad or the other victims that were documented, or for sexual harassment of myself, Theresa LaBianco, Flora Cravets, Pearl Mendoza, Sally Waterman, and probably a minimum of two dozen more.’

  ‘What?’ the lunkhead began. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Please don’t insult us,’ Jennifer said. ‘You know perfectly well what we mean.’

  The warden stood up. ‘What I’d like to see is you carried off in handcuffs, ready to spend some time being raped by men in a different facility.’ She sighed. ‘Since that’s not possible, we have only two words for you.’

  For a moment the women looked at each other, as if an obscenity might be said. But real power was so much better than words, no matter how obscene.

  ‘You’re fired,’ Jennifer Spencer told him.

  Book III

  34

  Jennifer Spencer

  It is the nature of desire not to be satisfied, and most men live only for the gratification of it. The beginning of reform is not so much to equalize property as to train the noble sort of natures not to desire more, and to prevent the lower from getting more.

  Aristotle

  As Jennifer stared at the pages of notes spread before her on the library table she felt as if she were back in Catholic school and some nun had just handed her an impossible word problem: If it takes ten men nine hours to dig a fifty foot long ditch four foot deep by two and a half feet wide, how long would it take one female with the help of several friends to turn around the attitude, facility, and costs in a women’s prison? Actually, it was more of an essay test: You own a correctional facility for women. In one thousand words, explain how you would a. make it humane, b. make it effective, and c. make it profitable. (Neatness counts.)

  Jennifer didn’t know where to begin.

  Back in school Jennifer had always known what the nuns wanted to hear; she knew how to give a snow job to a nun. But this was different. This assignment hadn’t come from a nun or Donald Michaels. This wasn’t a snow job or a blow job. For the first time in her life she wasn’t doing intellectual exercises or selling an idea and running. She had never in her life been responsible for the daily management of anything – not even an apartment. It was a challenge that Jennifer had willingly taken on herself, but it was going to take a lot more than one thousand words to make Jennings a. humane, b. effective, and c. profitable. It was going to take thought, planning, training, and money – lots and lots of money. So where should she begin?

  She had been sitting and stewing over the paper before her for two days. Then, all at once Jennifer smiled. The lyrics to ‘Do-Re-Mi’ suddenly popped into her head. The Sound of Music had been her favorite movie when she was a kid, and she remembered Sister Maria’s suggestion that the beginning was a very good place to start. ‘Nuns!’ Jennifer thought, shaking her head. ‘They always have all the answers.’ She chuckled as it occurred to her that she might have to become a nun herself after all this was over. Convents were one of the few employers she could think of that welcomed ex-cons.

  Jennifer knew how she’d begin, but turned to her computer and clicked on her email account for new messages. One of the perks of being the new official assistant librarian was having an official phone line installed for her use in the library, plus a DSL line for fast Internet access. Gwen Harding had suggested the change in Jennifer’s position, acknowledging that Jennifer needed a private place to work from and communicate with the people at JRU, but that a private office could look dangerously like favoritism and bring down a lot of anger and jealousy from other inmates. Jennifer knew she could trust Maggie, Movita, Theresa, and Suki to keep quiet about the recent turn of events at Jennings, but beyond the crew it could be dicey. Now Jennifer opened her email account, and a new email message from Bryce popped up marked ‘URGENT – OPEN IMMEDIATELY!!’ Her stomach sank. Something must be wrong. Feeling sick, she clicked on the message.

  Yo, Jen! Just joking! I just wanted to get your blood pumping a little, I know you don’t get enough stimulation in there. Actually, everything’s fine. Everything’s going really smoothly on my end. Don’t worry about a thing.

  Easy enough for him to say, Jennifer thought. But she breathed a sigh of relief that he was just joking around.

  Then she read the rest of the message and felt a blush bloom on her face.

  But seriously, urgently, I do wish I could see you face-to-face again soon. Visitor’s day just seems way too far off when you really get along with a person, you know? I was very impressed with all your ideas last Tuesday, not to mention your other … assets.

  Anyway back to business … Listen, we’re going to make this thing work. Trust me, and have a productive day!

  Bryce

  She read the message again with mixed feelings. She hated when guys said ‘trust me’. It almost invariably meant the opposite. But she thought he was sincere, at least about the business end of the deal. Regarding the other stuff, she wasn’t sure. He’s just a typical financial prankster, Jennifer thought. They littered Wall Street. Deep down, though, she was flattered by his attention. He was good-looking and smart and self-assured and it was nice to have a little flirtation with a man, even if it was only over the Internet. She was pretty starved for male attention here in an all-women’s prison. You couldn’t really count the male officers as men – most of them were no better than dirt under your shoe. She laughed to herself as she read over Bryce’s email again. But she promised herself to try to keep all her communications with him strictly business.

  She shot him off a note saying that things were going well on her end, and mentioning the fact that she was currently working on plans for a Proposed Profit Center at Jennings, and organizational and management tactics.

  ‘Have you come across something humorous?’ asked Maggie when she heard Jennifer laugh.

  Jennifer laughed again as she looked up at Maggie, reflecting that it was odd that she was here in prison with Bryce’s mother. Wanting to cover the real cause of her laughter, she said, ‘It just seems so surreal.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘I imagine so. It probably also seems impossible.’

  ‘Let’s just say extremely, very, extraordinarily, unimaginably, overwhelmingly difficult.’

  ‘Well, as long as you have a positive attitude,’ Maggie said. ‘Let’s see what you’ve come up with so far.’ She walked over to Jennifer’s table and looked at the plethora of lists, charts, and proposed reorganizational plans that Jennifer had made. ‘What’s your main objective?’

  ‘To make this place a little better for the women who live here,’ Jennifer said matter-of-factly.

  ‘And what do we need to make it better?’ Maggie pressed on.

  Jennifer shuffled the papers until she found the one on which she had already itemized a response to Maggie’s question. ‘First,’ she began, ‘better living conditions – especially better meals, increased privacy, improved relations with the staff, and different uniforms.’ She looked to Maggie for a confirming nod and smiled when she got it. ‘Secondly, improved health care – I was going to itemize here, but basically we need health care of all kinds.’

 
‘I agree,’ Maggie said.

  ‘And finally, better educational programs for basic skills like reading and math, GEDs, life skills, mothering. And more substance abuse and twelve-step programs. Then job training,’ Jennifer lowered the page and looked at Maggie.

  ‘But there’s something they need first. Self-respect and discipline.’

  ‘Hey, I went to a psychiatrist all through college and graduate school and I’m not sure I go there,’ Jennifer joked.

  ‘Well, I realize that we can’t change people from the cellular level on up. But we can improve their clothes, address them by name, insist on timeliness and courtesy, increase their privileges if they deliver and learn the rules and the problems they incur from breaking them.’

  ‘Spoken like a true headmistress,’ Jennifer said.

  ‘We also have to create a wing for the women who disturb the peace. The ones who are mentally ill and habitually scream all night and disturb everyone’s sleep, the ones who go off at the slightest provocation, the ones who harangue guards endlessly. Nights of sleep uninterrupted by screaming would do a world of good for everyone, and it wouldn’t cost anything.’

  ‘We also need a better orientation for the candy when they first get here,’ Jennifer said.

  ‘Yes. And we need better training for the COs so they are more consistent. And we have to weed out the corrupt ones and the abusers.’

  ‘That would do a lot for morale,’ Jennifer agreed.

  ‘So would some physical changes: a real gym for wet days.’

  ‘Now you’re starting to talk money,’ Jennifer commented.

  ‘And where is the money going to come from?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘We have to earn it,’ Jennifer said with a sigh, and in anticipation of Maggie’s next question, she shuffled the papers once again and produced the chart entitled Proposed Profit Center for Jennings.

  Maggie studied the chart for a moment. Then she said, ‘This is a wonderful start, Jennifer. Income-producing businesses.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can make it work,’ Jennifer admitted.

  ‘It has to work,’ Maggie told her.

  Jennifer nodded. ‘Without money, nothing can happen here.’

  ‘But if this plan is going to work, you’re going to need as much of the full and – I might add – enthusiastic cooperation of the women here as possible.’ Maggie sat down next to Jennifer at the paper-strewn table. ‘Do you have a plan for that?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Jennifer admitted. ‘We have to improve the general attitude around here, but the only ways I can think of to do that are the things that cost the most money, and since we don’t have the money we can’t improve the attitude, and if we can’t improve the attitude we can’t raise any money, and – well …’ She stopped with a helpless shrug of her shoulders.

  ‘It’s a bit of a chicken-and-egg kind of problem, isn’t it?’ Maggie observed.

  Jennifer nodded as she shuffled the papers yet again until she found the Inmate Handbook that she had been given on the day of her incarceration. ‘I’ve been looking through this,’ she said. ‘I thought maybe we could change some of the rules and that would improve morale.’ She opened the manual and went on. ‘Like this one,’ she said, pointing to a page. She read, ‘“Each inmate is allowed only six photographs on the cell wall.” Why can’t we have eight, or ten, or as many as we want?’ She closed the manual and questioned Maggie: ‘Don’t you think if we changed some of those stupid rules it might make everyone feel a little better?’

  ‘For a while, perhaps,’ Maggie said sadly. ‘But women without any pictures will be jealous. And because some of these women need to push authority, eventually, Jennifer, some women would have hundreds of pictures and cover other inmates’ walls and then there would be trouble.’

  ‘Oh,’ Jennifer said dismissively, ‘what trouble can there be in pictures?’

  Maggie reached across the table and picked up the manual. ‘I’ve been here a long time, Jennifer,’ she began. ‘And I have come to understand that there is not one rule in this manual that is either arbitrary or nonessential. Each and every rule has been made in response to a problem – the problem. We can each have only six pictures, because that way no one has more pictures than anyone else does. We must all wear uniforms, because that way no one will be better dressed than anyone else. Do you understand what I am saying – do you know what the problem is?’

  Jennifer shook her head.

  ‘Inequality,’ Maggie said simply. ‘Some have and some have not. It’s the root of every conflict and crime in the world’s history. And in here, every effort is made to eliminate inequality. We’re all in the same mess, eating the same slop, and wearing the same hideous uniform. It’s what keeps us from killing each other.’

  Jennifer considered what Maggie had said and then observed, ‘It sounds like communism, and communism isn’t exactly the plan I had in mind for making money. Look what happened to Russia.’

  Maggie laughed. ‘You’re getting way too far ahead of yourself, dear,’ she said. ‘Start with the basics: food, shelter, and clothing. Make the meals a little tastier, make the place a bit more hospitable, and maybe make the uniforms slightly less hideous. Give more, but not unlimited choices. Start with those things and then see what happens next.’

  ‘Do – Re – Mi,’ Jennifer sang in response.

  ‘That’s right.’ Maggie smiled. ‘Food – Shelter – Clothing. But we’ve got to really think about how we’re going to change these women’s attitudes. Most of them have been so used to being ordered around and having so few choices to make – even before they ended up in prison – that they probably don’t really know how to make responsible decisions for themselves. And that’s going to be a big problem when you’re trying to change the atmosphere around here and turn these women into productive, self-motivated people,’ Maggie continued.

  Jennifer nodded. ‘It’s true. I always thought I got to where I am because of my own hard work, but I forget how many advantages I had. Even the nuns, who I hated, gave me a better education than I would have gotten elsewhere. But until I got to Jennings I didn’t know I was privileged.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘Some of these women have never had anything and they’re just too cynical to believe that they’ll ever get anything. They were never taught anything so they think they can’t learn anything. When they do get a shot at a meal, or clothes, or money, or love, they grab. And grab. They cram it in. So we must move with moderation. It’s like giving food to somebody who’s starving: You have to be careful not to give them too much or they’ll vomit. We have to make these changes very gradually, so that nobody gets sick.’

  ‘Point taken,’ Jennifer said. She really admired Maggie as a woman and an educator. She wondered what kind of a mother she’d been to Bryce. ‘Ideally,’ Maggie continued, ‘if we can inspire inmates to be a productive part of the changing process instead of just empty vessels taking handouts, then there’s a chance we might make them “good citizens” of Jennings. And if they learn how to be “good citizens” here, then they might be able to become “good citizens” of their communities Outside when they’re released.’

  ‘Hear, hear! You’re really on a roll today, Maggie,’ Jennifer teased her, but she was impressed.

  ‘Oh, stop it.’ Maggie looked away. ‘I guess I’d gotten cynical myself, but now, since this miracle, I’m getting rather enthusiastic at the possibility of improvements. But I’m going to get back to work now, as should you, or none of this is going to become a reality.’ Maggie smiled, and wandered back to her shelves to reorganize a newly arrived carton of books.

  Jennifer turned back to her computer. She was surprised to find another new email from Bryce. Already? She clicked it open.

  It’s the sunniest day here. I walked to work and it almost broke my heart when I thought of how you and my mother probably aren’t getting any sun in that dungeon of yours. I wish I could email you some. Because every email from you is like a beam of sunlight in my day.<
br />
  Bryce

  He’s really laying it on thick, Jennifer thought. She didn’t know how to respond to this email or if she even should. Instead, she decided to send Lenny an email, and thought it would be funny to use Bryce’s little ‘URGENT’ trick on him. She started typing up the message.

  URGENT – PRISON RIOT!

  The positive changes here have already become too much for the inmates and now they’re holding me hostage in the library … Just kidding! Lenny, I wanted to get your attention right away. I feel like we haven’t talked for ages. I’m trying to put together plans on how to make this place profitable, and I just wanted to write and tell you how much I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. And your visits …

  Jennifer stopped typing, trying to think of what to say. Then it came to her.

  … are like sunshine. Thanks.

  35

  Gwen Harding

  Of a good beginning cometh a good end.

  John Heywood

  ‘Let go and let God,’ Gwen said to the reflection in the small mirror that hung in her office. It was one of the slogans they repeated endlessly at the AA meetings she continued to attend. She was still afraid that, despite the rule of anonymity, she’d be seen by a CO or a correctional staff’s relative or even an ex-inmate who had stayed in the area. It shouldn’t, of course, matter to her, with anonymity being such a rule, but she couldn’t imagine bumping into Miss Ringling and not having word get out all over the prison. On the other hand, she could always raise her eyebrows, look Miss Ringling – or whomever – in the eye and ask, ‘And what are you doing here?’ She wasn’t sure she’d have the balls, but that idea gave her the confidence to walk into the church basement door each time she attended.

  She needed a different kind of confidence this morning. Today was the dawning of a new beginning at Jennings. She had gotten over her surprise – no, shock – at Jennifer Spencer’s disclosure and she’d even come to appreciate what the girl had done. They had agreed to work together to save Jennings and its inmates. And they had also decided it was best to keep Jennifer’s unusual situation quiet. She could keep working in the library and the changes they planned could be implemented by Gwen and her staff.