Stateville- the Penitentiary in Mass Society

by James B Jacobs

  The prison staff vigorously resisted the intrusion of Prison Legal Services. Throughout the fall of 1975 every staff meeting included some account of a run-in with Keith Davis or one of the staff attorneys. Cannon for several months struggled to prevent Davis from bringing into Stateville an ex-convict staff assistant because “it would be bad for morale.” Ultimately the warden was overruled by his Springfield superiors.

  Despite the success of many day-to-day confrontations with staff over institutional rules and policies,38 few major judicial law reforms have been won after several years of strenuous advocacy. So slow is the legal process that, during the first couple of years of their existence, only a handful of their lawsuits reached final decision. Some have been mooted because the inmates have been paroled.

  The glacial progress of the cases through the courts reflects the massive workload that is said to plague the federal courts. The tremendous drain of prisoner suits on judicial resources has brought comment time and again from the chief justice39 and other federal judges40 concerned that the federal courts are becoming the forum for every dispute between inmates and prison staffs. In addition, the discovery process itself tends to generate time-consuming conflicts over what data the prison should be responsible for compiling and providing. Finally, the tremendous pressure on the attorney general’s staff has, according to the statements of AG staff attorneys, led them to seek delays and continuances whenever and wherever possible.

  Equally important is the tremendous pressure upon PLS resources. PLS was funded first by the Department of Corrections and then by the Illinois Law Enforcement Commission for short periods ranging between one and four months. Because of the real possibility that each short grant might be the last, PLS desired to entrench itself. Its main strategy for doing this was to take on as many inmate cases as possible. It collected hundreds of files, many more than could effectively be handled. This strategy involved costs, however, since it was impossible to give effective representation to so many inmates. Furthermore, many of the complaints were lacking in merit. And by emphasizing the civil representation that could be delivered to inmates in matters of individual but not systemic concern, PLS attenuated its capability for bringing test cases against the prison organization. Instead of achieving major law reform, PLS found itself increasingly becoming bogged down in “petty cases.” Like the counselors, if the PLS attorneys were to maintain credibility they could not turn down cases, even those with little significance or probability of success.

  It is not victory in great judicial decisions that constitutes PLS’s greatest impact on Stateville. It is the PLS staff members’ daily presence at the prison, their persistent questioning of the rules, their relentless demands to see files and records, and the fear they invoke in the hearts of many of the prison staff that has the most profound effect on the day-to-day administration of the prison. Somehow the prison authorities must find a way to accommodate these lawyers and law students who so doggedly camp on the doorstep. A cordial working relationship has evolved with the chief clerk in the record office and slowly with other top members of the Stateville staff. If PLS could not be locked out of the prison, as many of the administrators and custodial elite initially believed could be done, then the institution would have to adapt, at least to some extent, to the PLS presence. Some of the more egregious practices were halted; short phone calls and meetings with the warden increased; adherence to the rules and regulations necessarily became more observable and explicit.

  Organizational Environment

  We have seen in chapter 4 that Stateville’s autonomy was severely undermined by the emergence of a centralized department of corrections with an active central office. Policy affecting the organization at all levels is today decided in Springfield. What role the counselors will have, what courses will be taught at the high school, whether a white applicant can be hired before a search has been made for a black, are examples of decisions which emanate from the central office and are imposed upon the institution.

  The prison is directly affected by several other governmental organizations. The Illinois Law Enforcement Commission (ILEC) founded in 1968 pursuant to the establishment of the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration, channels federal and state funds into the various agencies comprising the criminal justice system. By granting or withholding funds, ILEC has an enormous influence on the prison organization. Before 1973 ILEC had no program of its own, no planning document, and no conceptual approach to the criminal justice system.

  When David Fogel, a criminal justice planner with a special interest in corrections, took over ILEC (after the legislature had turned back his nomination as director of corrections), he pushed for planning and almost immediately implemented several important projects. The first was the Illinois Correctional Academy (on the campus of St. Xavier’s College in southwest Chicago), which was established in order to centralize and professionalize pre-service and in-service staff training for correctional officers. While the full impact of the academy is still unclear, a few consequences are indicated.

  The academy represents an alternative to the traditional process by which guard recruits were socialized into their occupation. The civilian instructors at the academy prepare recruits to meet certain resistances among the old guards, and provide them with a professional reference group that is, to an extent, an alternative to the peer reference group inside the prison. In his 1974 study of new guard recruits at Stateville, Liebentritt found a split developing between the academy guards and those old-timers who might be considered the tradition bearers of the institution.41

  The academy itself is evolving an independent role within the Department of Corrections. Quite recently, after a guard carelessly fired a weapon from one of the towers, the Stateville administration ordered that the ammunition be removed from the towers. The academy (along with the union) lobbied successfully both to have the central office return the ammunition to the towers and to have no guard assigned to the towers unless he had been trained in the use of weapons. There are direct lines of contact between the academy and Stateville.

  Another ILEC grant early in Fogel’s administration went for the remodeling of the cell houses and for the transformation of the centralized dining room (which during Ragen’s days fed 1,800 inmates at each of two sittings) into a new gymnasium. New tables and chairs were placed on the main floors of each cell house so that each cell house can feed individually. This 1973 architectural change not only provided a highly desirable new recreation facility but allowed the administration to break down the prison into smaller units and to dissolve the longest lockup in Stateville’s history.

  Third, Fogel committed himself to Prisoner Legal Services, which ILEC finances through the University of Illinois Circle Campus, and under a larger umbrella organization charged with coordinating all prison legal services throughout the state.

  Fourth, ILEC introduced a “manpower project” at Stateville which reports the daily movement of prisoners and guards on computer printouts. For the first time a college-educated computer programmer attended staff meetings and was recognized as having some useful role to play at Stateville.42 The assignment captain uses the printout to find available cell assignments and job openings. Warden Brierton plans to locate computer terminals in each cell house (under another ILEC grant) in order to facilitate cell house management.

  Fogel has also had an important informal role in the management of the prison. Because he was Walker’s first choice for director of the Department of Corrections there is a widespread (albeit unfounded) belief among staff people that he really runs the department from ILEC. Thus Fogel enjoys considerable prestige among employees. In the fall of 1974, the recreation supervisor of Stateville claimed that unless his expanded gym program was accepted by the recalcitrant custodial staff, he would appeal over Cannon’s head to Fogel because the ILEC grant was not being properly implemented. On another occasion an argument in the guard hall between PLS director Keith Davis and an assistant warden led
Davis to call Fogel and thereby successfully resolve the dispute. The assistant warden noted that “Davis must have some kind of clout”; the point is that Fogel and ILEC carry a great deal of weight at Stateville and have a somewhat independent correctional program which must be assimilated into the administration’s own planning.

  ILEC is not the only governmental agency which has an impact upon Stateville. The Department of Corrections’ Affirmative Action office has been the crucial force behind increased minority hiring. Likewise the Civil Service Commission, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and the Fair Employment Opportunity Commission limit administrative actions with respect to hiring, promotion, and dismissal by posing a threat of reinstatement and other sanctions if the prison organization does not comply with guidelines contained in federal statutes.

  The Affirmative Action Office was begun in 1971 when Director Bensinger appointed Jack Porche Affirmative Action officer and charged him with drawing up a plan to increase minorities throughout the department. At the same time, Bensinger called together representatives of the Urban League, NAACP, Operation Push, Malcolm X College, and other black community groups to discuss ways of increasing minority recruitment. Bensinger appointed twenty representatives of these groups to a special advisory committee on manpower development. Porche began a campaign to increase the numbers of black recruits by contacting community groups, placing advertisements on radio, and urging the Department of Labor to refer black job applicants to the prisons. For the first time large numbers of blacks began applying for work at Stateville. In 1972, 146 blacks were hired at Stateville compared with 49 in 1971. “Informal” quotas were imposed by Bensinger on the Stateville administration. This amounted to an ultimatum that there would be no hiring unless x percent of blacks were hired. Porche went to Roosevelt College to recruit Mel Hampton to be Stateville’s first black counselor.43 In addition, a Model Employer Program was begun with federal money under the Illinois Department of Personnel during the summer of 1974. Under this program a special recruitment and pre-training drive was initiated to recruit and pre-train black and Spanish-speaking guards from the central city. Recruitment trailers and sound trucks were sent into the inner city to interview and hire guards on the spot.

  Porche has two sources of leverage to improve the position of minorities within the organization: (1) under the Sielaff administration he makes an input in the performance evaluations of all supervisory personnel according to how well they are fulfilling their affirmative action responsibilities, and (2) all grants applied for within the department cross his desk so that he can comment on what percentage of minorities should be hired if a grant is to be processed. The results of these efforts in bringing minorities into high-level decision-making positions are still unclear.44 Many staff members at the local level view Affirmative Action, like the court decisions, as an intrusion to be passively resisted. “Perhaps this too will pass in time?” Affirmative Action not only challenges the autonomy of the organization through its effect on hirings, promotions, and firings, but the agency itself makes considerable demands on Stateville’s administrative resources by its continued requests for reports on all personnel matters.

  Colleges and Universities

  Colleges and universities have had associations with Stateville since its inception, albeit sporadically. Ernest Burgess and Edwin Sutherland had contacts with Stateville in the twenties and thirties. Donald Cressey conducted the interviews with embezzlers at Stateville in 1949 which led to his doctoral dissertation and book Other People’s Money.45 A 1959 bulletin from Warden Ragen announced that a University of Illinois professor would be at Stateville to administer some tests to the inmates in connection with research. Daniel Glaser points out that “hundreds of studies in many disciplines” have been carried out over the years with the cooperation of the criminologist and sociologist-actuary.46 But there were no routine relationships established with colleges and universities, or any direct links between professors, students, and administrators except for the TV college which began in the mid-1950s under the auspices of Wright Junior College.

  The Bensinger task forces brought the academic community into much closer touch with the prison administration. For the first time academic penologists served on task forces and advisory commissions; they helped draft the Unified Code of Corrections and the Administrative Regulations. In addition, under Twomey’s regime a handful of inmates at the minimum security unit were released during the day to take classes toward the B. A. degree at nearby Lewis University. The first Lewis B.A. was granted to an inmate in 1972. Beginning in 1973, a bilingual educational program for Spanish-speaking inmates, was brought into the prison (funded by a large federal grant) coordinated by Northern Illinois University and Northwestern University. At the outset, there were many clashes between the outside professors and the prison administration over scheduling. More recently, the full-time coordinator of the program has been accused of becoming a self-styled spokesman for all Latinos and of wandering around the prison (even into segregation) on matters unrelated to his program. It is precisely this “going beyond what they came in here for” that is the principal objection of staff members to outsiders.

  The creation of the prison school district put academicians on the school board. The creation of the governor’s advisory board and two departmental advisory boards constitutes another area of academic participation. In 1974, Cannon invited a criminal justice professor from Lewis University to head an ad hoc committee on prison discipline.

  Probably the most important institutional affiliation has been with Joliet Junior College, which in 1970 brought several academic and vocational programs into Stateville. The college continues to see the provision of prison education as part of its community college mission. Several new vocational programs have been added although the relationship between JJC and Stateville has not been successful. Between 1970 and 1974, JJC staff complained that Stateville had never provided the space or the cooperation to make programs like culinary arts and auto mechanics viable, another example of administrative inability to implement the reform program. Indeed, it is claimed that no inmate has ever graduated from culinary arts and only a few from the auto mechanics course despite the fact that they have been at the prison for years. It has only been under express assurances from the new administration (as well as a favorable financial arrangement) that JJC has agreed to maintain and expand its program.

  Aside from the relationship with Joliet Junior College, the prison has very few institutional or individual ties connecting it with the local Lockport/Joliet community. An association of businessmen (Will-Grundy Manufacturers Association) met several times with prison officials during the summer and fall of 1974 to discuss the possibility of bringing some skilled industrial apprenticeship programs into the prison, but negotiations fell apart when the manufacturers refused to bring a union into the plan.47 Stateville has never been tied to its local environment the way the southern Illinois prisons have been.48 The administrators at Stateville are, for the most part, unaffected by and even unaware of the local political scene. Department of Corrections administrators are, to this day, concerned about political interference in the hirings and promotions at Menard; but such interference has not occurred at Stateville since Ragen.

  Prison Interest Groups

  Despite the pervasive defensiveness among the Stateville staff (particularly the old guard but including many members of the administration), there have been few, if any, organized groups acting on behalf of inmates.49 Where such groups have been active, they have, without exception, focused on traditional issues (e.g., lack of rehabilitation programs) rather than on such radical issues as a prisoners’ union, minimum wage, conjugal visiting, and prison abolition.

  Since 1970, there have been perhaps a half-dozen individuals from the black community at large who have worked seriously and with consistency to bring about change in the prisons. Several of these individuals have been discouraged by what they perceive to be an indiffer
ence in the black community to the plight of prisoners.50

  Beginning in 1971, Dorothy Mason began to visit Stateville as a representative of Operation PUSH (People United to Save Humanity), a community organization headed by one of Chicago’s most influential black leaders, Jesse Jackson. While prison reform was not one of PUSH’s top priorities, Mason’s personal interest coincided with a need of the community-based organization to address itself to black prisoners.51 Peter Bensinger was approached by Operation PUSH with the request to allow a representative to enter Stateville in order to help the men maintain contact with the outside. Dorothy Mason was extremely popular during the years that she represented Operation PUSH. She met regularly with inmates who contacted her at PUSH and attempted to resolve personal problems within and without the organization. The first time I saw Mason was in June 1972 at the high school graduation at the Stateville chapel. Her arrival (a little late) was met by a standing ovation and a thunderous outbreak of applause.

  Like others from the outside community who entered the prison to “work with the inmates,” Mason was soon meeting with the gang leadership on each visit. According to a newspaper report of a speech she gave at the University of Illinois,

  she cited the problems encountered by Project ABLE, a Stateville prisoners’ organization founded by former Chicago gang members. “The administration is up-tight because they are afraid the gang members will run the institution,” she said. “Well, in effect, they run it anyway.”

  “If I’m taking a program down there, all I do is tell the inmate leaders that I don’t want any trouble and there won’t be any.”52

  After Dorothy Mason was barred from entering the prison (except to visit an inmate, whom she later married), Ma Houston became Operation PUSH’s prison representative. Now in her seventies, Ma Houston, a religious fundamentalist,53 has been tending to the needs of jail and prison inmates for decades. Over the years she has stubbornly and persistently made her way to the prisons around the state, taking gifts to the inmates, helping them with simple requests. She enjoys great respect and popularity among the inmates. Quite recently she was appointed to the three-member Administrative Review Board in Springfield (see chapter 4), which is the last-appeals stage of the disciplinary and grievance process. Houston, like Mason, is no revolutionary. Her main concern at Stateville seems to be that the men are being treated as fairly and humanely as possible under the circumstances. Her presence, like that of others from prisoner interest groups, is met with apprehension and hostility by the staff.