Opinion: The federal Bureau of Prisons fails D.C. residents

"Of prison, no one tells you that time will steal your memories until there's nothing left but strip searches, the hole, fights, hidden shanks and spades games.” Reginald D. Betts

Not a day has passed during my two decades of incarceration when I haven't overheard a group of fellow prisoners complaining among themselves or to an administrator about the unwholesome living conditions inside the federal Bureau of Prisons.

A common refrain I've heard over the years is, "Man, can you believe the government spends $45,000 of taxpayer money to house us here... Somebody is definitely doing a Bernie Madoff and pocketing that shit, ‘cause it damn sure ain’t being spent on me."

Recently I sat down in the prison law library with a group of intelligent and open-minded prisoners from D.C. and various other states, including a few old timers (guys who've served 20 years plus) and a few new jack prisoners (just two to three years in). I asked them for a list of their top gripes about the BOP. Here’s what we agreed on:                                                 

TOP FOUR LIST OF GRIEVANCES

1. Poor medical care.

2. Low quality and insufficient quantity of food.

3. Lack of educational and vocational programs.

4. Few opportunities to earn early release, such as via parole.                                                

I know some readers will respond along these lines: "They just don’t want to pay the price for their crimes. Prisons aren’t supposed to be comfortable.” It’s true that some prisoners whine about trivial issues, like the commissary not selling real sugar or chunky peanut butter. (In his book, "Unusually Cruel", Marc Howard chronicles the story of a prisoner who filed a lawsuit to demand chunky peanut butter instead of smooth.) I also concede the fact that prisons should not be places of leisure (think Club Fed), where prisoners can kick their feet up all day, sleeping or watching rap videos and MTV ridiculousness (reality shows). 

But that’s not what we’re talking about. Federal prisons are far from institutions where offenders come for a reasonable amount of incapacitation to pay their debt to society, while receiving healthy, community-oriented social reconditioning (like many European prisons). Warren Burger, the conservative former chief justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, once described prisons as places where an offender could "learn and earn his way to freedom and a new life." That couldn’t be further from the truth.

This discussion set me to critically thinking about what D.C. taxpayers actually know about how their dollars are spent on District prisoners housed in the BOP, and to what extent the public benefits from that expense. 

The unfortunate closure of D.C.’s prison in Lorton, Virginia, in 2001 made the District the only “state” in the country without its own prison. As a way to save money, D.C. chose to rely on the federal system instead. The Bureau of Prisons was already operating on a shoestring budget when D.C. prisoners were dumped on them; the federal prison population had quadrupled from 40,000 in 1987 to 160,000 in 2002. The BOP welcomed our influx as a new source of funds, but it didn’t stop the cuts already underway in educational, recreational, vocational and dietary programs within the prisons. Meanwhile, the arrival of a large group of mostly Black prisoners who came from a violent street culture — destabilized the sprawling, dysfunctional federal prison network.

At the outset of my 53-year sentence in 2005 (about four years after D.C. residents were sent into the feds), I was housed at the high-security Lewisburg penitentiary  in Pennsylvania (a.k.a. The Big House). I quickly became educated on the fact that D.C. had discontinued the practice of parole in 2001 and followed the lead in federal law by mandating that most of us serve 85% of our sentences before we are eligible for release — regardless of whether we had built an institutional record that clearly demonstrates our commitment to leading a law-abiding, taxpaying, and contributing life upon release.

For a decade and a half, it didn't seem like I would ever see any light at the end of the tunnel; there weren’t any incentives to learn or practice good citizenship. Why bother, when our only future seemed to be more of these walls? Then, BOOM, there was a burst of progressive prison reform. The D.C. Council adopted its second look laws, which allowed individuals who were incarcerated under the age of 25 and had been in prison for 15 or more years to petition for release based on their rehabilitation. Then the Donald Trump administration signed the First Step Act, which offered time off in return for participating in rehabilitation programs. (However, D.C. Code offenders still have not been offered the same benefits, even though the council authorized it more than two years ago. And persons who committed violent crimes are excluded altogether.) 

Not too long after, a tsunami of hope and excitement surged through D.C. Code prisoners when the council passed a revamped criminal code that would have extended the opportunity for a “second look” to all of us who have been in for more than 15 years, no matter how old we were at the time of our crime. But D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser – a Democrat! – opposed it, paving the way for former President Biden to go along with the Republicans in Congress when they sought to nuke the entire bill.  With that, everything went dark again on the criminal justice front.

Yet, something in my heart keeps telling me that D.C. taxpayers desire and expect more for us than to simply serve lengthy prison terms and be regurgitated back on the streets – older, in poor health, with little education and zero job skills. Completely unprepared to assimilate into the American workforce.

Consider this reality: Four out of five offenders will return to their communities. Now, ask yourself, who do you want as your neighbor? A reformed and mature, working-class citizen, or an ignorant, broken and unstable ex-con?

I believe that most D.C. taxpayers are unfamiliar with our poor living conditions in the BOP, the paucity of rehabilitative opportunities and the high percentage of our sentences we must serve before we are eligible for release. (I think the general public often approves of ridiculously long sentences for less-than-heinous crimes because they assume parole or something similar will get us out sooner.)

The latest figures I can find indicate that BOP administrators spend approximately $43,000 per prisoner per year in taxpayer funds to keep us incarcerated. (And my bet is that people think we are offered real opportunities to rehabilitate and prepare for a successful release.) With that kind of money in play, I believe D.C. citizens have a right to and should know whether the federal prison system is succeeding or failing at preparing us to return to our nation’s capital as reformed, productive members of their communities.

"Inmates are sent to prison as punishment, not for punishment." Former FCI McKean warden, Dennis Luther

Criminal justice theorists list the four goals of incarceration as incapacitation, punishment, deterrence and rehabilitation. However, in my 21 years in these psychological-death camps, I have come to the conclusion that BOP administrators are only concerned with two of these goals: punishment and incapacitation (another word for warehousing).

I recently came across the research of the highly respected prison journalist Michael Santos, who was also confined for over two decades in the federal prison system. Santos writes: "Citizens expect offenders to identify with the goals of the larger community. They want offenders to express remorse for breaking society's laws. They want offenders to understand why laws are necessary to hold society together and that it's every citizen’s responsibility to abide by all existing laws and work to change unjust laws through the democratic process. Citizens want offenders to accept responsibility; to redeem themselves; and eventually to work their way back into the community as law-abiding, taxpaying, contributing citizens."

It's unfortunate that many prison administrators and pockets of American citizens have an "us versus them" mindset. In their view, it’s the prison’s job to punish inmates on a daily basis, not assist in their rehabilitation. Any progressive and positive rehabilitative programs are perceived as using taxpayer money to pamper criminals, when they should be viewed as opportunities to help offenders forge a new, healthy direction for their lives. 

"Listen up, home team, in here, it’s us against the world. This is a long way from the Howard Theater and Ben’s Chilli Bowl. Welcome to gangland, Slim." Lorton Boxing Legend "Pearly Early"

The First Step Act and D.C.’s second look acts were “giant leaps” in the right direction for criminal justice reform. However, we need a Second Step Act and maybe even a Third Step Act to offer hope to people like myself who have done the necessary work to prove to my family, community and larger society that I am truly prepared for and worthy of another chance at a productive and positive life.

The bottom line is this: D.C. citizens are not getting the best return on their hard-earned tax dollars. I would like to see the D.C. Council launch an extensive examination of how its residents have fared in the BOP since we entered this system in 2001, then bring us all home. 

It’s discouraging for those of us behind the wall to see that funds for building a new jail have been removed from Mayor Bowser’s budget because of the high cost and the desire to build a sports stadium. Instead, she says she will look for a private investor. But this is a need that has festered for years, and the cost has of course grown as time passes.  

Council Chairman Phil Mendelson told WAMU that the proposal to rely on a private company to fund a new jail is “concerning,considering that the Bowser administration has repeatedly dismissed past proposals for such partnership. “There’s no question in my mind that this is one of the capital projects that is being expended to accommodate the RFK Stadium,” Mendelson said.

Mayor Bowser denied that the stadium has taken precedence. But since no action has been taken for so long to start work on a new jail complex, it’s hard not to conclude that despite the fact that incarcerated residents are now voters, she simply doesn’t care about us.

In my opinion, turning over the custody, security and rehabilitation of D.C. Code offenders to federal prison administrators is a failed social experiment. Radical reform in how the District incarcerates must be elevated from a hot topic or moment on social media to a broad-based, lasting movement; forgiveness, second/third chances and public safety are issues that impact us all.