I have lost count of how many times, usually prompted by some absurd situation, that I have thought about my incarceration experience and asked, what is this place and what are we doing here? The camp at Thomson, and likely all federal prison camps, are not real prison. I have met enough guys who have shared their experiences of doing real prison time, and taken enough trips to work inside the fence here to conclude that whatever real prison is, this camp ain’t it. Even the staff here don’t take the camp seriously and if you ask them, they’ll generally say that it should be closed and those of us who have homes to go to should be put on home confinement.
So if the camp is not prison, what is it? My conclusion after all this time is that it’s a purposeless holding pen between prison and society. It’s basically nothing. There is good news and bad news in that determination. The bad news is that for those who do not possess internal motivation, who arguably should be at a higher security facility that provides more structure, the camp environment tends to bring out their worst. The good news for someone like me, who has direction and goals, is that the camp is a blank slate that I can define for myself. I choose to see this place as my own personal training camp, affording the opportunity to get stronger in body, mind, spirit, and relationships as I prepare for a successful return to my home and community. Unfortunately for the American taxpayers, my approach to my time here is the exception and not the rule.
It doesn’t have to be this way. Federal prison camps and halfway houses could be drivers of lowering recidivism rates by genuinely fostering accountability and preparing men and women for successful re-entry. If I were king, I would make a few changes that would fundamentally alter the camp experience and the results produced.
First, who. In order to be eligible to be in a camp, people should have to attain basic levels of education, life skills, mental health, and responsibility. Related pre-requisites for camp assignment could be:
- A high school diploma or GED.
- Satisfying programming requirements as determined by the First Step Act needs assessment.
- Substance abuse or trauma treatment as needed.
- Clear conduct for a material period of time.
Next, what. Individuals arriving at the camp would immediately meet with a guidance counselor who is well trained to function as their life coach. They would be steered in the direction of one of three tracks depending on their circumstances: post-secondary education (including high level vocational training), career development, or community service. Upon choosing a track, they would have to make their way through an application process to obtain a spot with an outside educational, business, or service organization. Once their new placement was secured, they would leave the camp to go to school, work, or service five days a week, ten hours a day, just like most adults.
And finally, family. When not pursuing their new development, residents would have robust access to family through visitation and furloughs to attend birthdays, graduations, funerals, weddings, and holiday celebrations. Life stuff. In order to maximize the chances of success upon release, people need strong support networks at home. Relationship building takes effort, and therefore the time to do that work must be afforded.
Based on what I have seen from the men around me during my years at Thomson, some would thrive in a structure like this and others would not. That’s okay. It’s better to find out who is accountable and ready for the main stage of freedom by putting them through a rigorous dress rehearsal wherein a system of progress monitoring exists, rather than cutting them loose and hoping that they figure it out themselves.
Alas, I am not king. We are stuck with the current setup until we decide that we are tired enough of having people returning and causing harm in our communities to demand change. In the meantime, it is important to be honest and clear that the camp culture is a smorgasbord of dysfunctional dynamics among the residents and staff: loyalty to groups rather than principles; poor work ethic; inconsideration and selfishness; dehumanization and disrespect; the crab bucket effect of pulling others down who are trying to lift themselves up; physical and psychological abuse; lawlessness; and a general lack of accountability.
For most guys these forces of degradation are undermining their chances of success. But not me. I view the challenges inherent to the environment as an opportunity to test myself against adversity. I have a vision for the kind of husband, father, family member, worker, leader, and volunteer that I want to be when I get out. I have goals and my own agenda that moves me in the direction of that vision every day. I made a commitment to my family to grow stronger and forces that may be working against me do not absolve me of my accountability to them. I am on a mission and will not be defeated.
Seen this way, the nothingness and negativity of the camp are the ideal training ground for me. I have overcome the degradation and I reject the counter-productive culture. I face these challenges each day and prepare for success anyway. It is like training by running only uphill and into the wind. The exertion is turning me into a warrior. When I get home to the wonderful people in the big life that awaits me, it will be like turning around to run downhill with the wind. I’m grateful for this hardship, and I can’t wait to find out just how fast and far I can go.
