I toured San Quentin last month. No cameras or cell phones were allowed, which is smart, but there were also many photogenic moments and many historic buildings.
There were also many rules about how to dress. No jeans because the prisoners wear denim. No open toe shoes for safety. No skimpy or revealing clothing. And we all signed a no hostage policy statement, meaning while the state corrections officers would try to rescue us, we weren't going to be part of any negotiation.
The biggest surprise to me came right when we went through the front doors. Prisoners were gardening, using large shovels and hedge trimmers and other tools you wouldn't think you'd want a convicted murderer using. The men were freely walking around and talking with each other.
There are four levels of prisoners, and these guys had all earned the right to be as free as they were. It had almost a college campus feel. Guys were shopping at the canteen, or walking to class carrying books, or hanging out on their bunks watching TV or working in the on-site factory or exercising on the yard. Many of the men wore no uniform or any identifying marks that they were prisoners.
Our group met up with a group of prisoners, definitely carefully selected by San Q as having taken responsibility for their crime, showing remorse, and having taken advantage of the opportunities available in the prison. Of the ten guys, only one had finished high school on the outside. One said he made it all the way to 11th grade without ever learning how to read.
At the prison you can't work until you get your GED. All of them earned it, and some had earned an AA degree. Prison labor pays about 11 cents an hour to 60 cents an hour, and 55% of those wages go towards any restitution ordered by the court. If you have ever been inside a government building or a college dorm room or office, you're probably looking at furniture that is part of the system that benefits from what is essentially slave labor.
The 13th amendment to the US Constitution reads:
"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction."
This is why minimum wage doesn't apply, and why the school to prison pipeline helps a few rich white men get even richer.
The prices at the commissary don't match the low pay either - they match outside prices. The most popular item to buy is ramen noodles and other food. I saw cells with onions and eggs and such in them, because they all said the mess hall food was awful, and they doctored up ramen noodles for a meal. One guy said when he gets out he's never going to eat soup again.
(Apparently ramen noodles are very accurately portrayed in the Brooklyn 99 episode where Jake is in prison.)
San Q is a very integrated prison, but the men are still segregated by race in their cells (and cell blocks) and self-segregate in the yard. It's gotta be interesting as a guard to watch these guys exercise for hours on end, knowing that they are getting stronger and you're supposed to control them. (Think about how much you could exercise if there was not much else to do.)
There is a separate death row yard for prisoners to get fresh air who play well with others. For those who don't play well with others there are fenced areas that very much resemble dog pens, but allows prisoners who cannot be with anyone else to move around.
Only the death row inmates have a cell to themselves. Everyone else has bunk beds and there is barely room to stand next to the bunks.
I asked if you were fat and lazy if a guard or counselor would encourage you to go to the yard. A prisoner told me that other members of your race would make you go exercise, and that there weren't a lot of fat guys in prison. We talked briefly about accommodating the aging prison population, and accessibility needs for some prisoners.
One of the few places that creeped me out was a room with 10 very small cells in it. These was only enough room for one person to sit in each cell. Turns out this is a therapy room for guys who cannot be around other guys without protective cages around them. Wow.
The prisoner we spoke with who is in charge of cleaning that floor of the hospital said he's become certified in handling hazmat waste while in the prison. His reform took a long time. For the first 15 years he was in jail, he still smoked pot. Now he says he's been sober for years. We asked him what he thought about the fact that it's now legal on the outside. He was slightly amused, slightly sad. He said he won't smoke when he gets out.
He also said every man on his dad's side of the family, including his dad, had done time in prison. There's no easy answer for breaking that cycle. He said his biggest fear is technology, because it moves so quickly, and there are waitlists to get into the tech classes in the prison. (And non-tech classes too - sometimes up to 3 years.) I wanted to tell him anything that is techy is probably going to be outsourced or done by computer and that his hazmat training was more layoff-proof, but I didn't. He told us he hid a knife up his ass for 8 years.
I kept feeling like I should be somber but the PIO leading us around laughed a lot, with our tour group and with the prisoners. He had worked there a long time. The prisoners definitely get access to a good amount of rehabilitation opportunities. When asked if prisons were needed, most guys said yes, and a few said no. One went on to describe the German model of prisons and one guy said "I'm going to respond with an I statement... I feel that...."
Some people think prison is for punishment, or for profit, or for rehabilitation. Certainly the guys allowed to talk to us all felt that they had more to contribute to their communities now, than they did when they committed their crimes. The sentencing was all over the map. 40+ years for robbing some GameStop stores. 25 years as part of a robbery that turned into a murder.
The lifers and the non-lifers act very differently, we were told. Those who think they can get out have a reason to better themselves. At San Q they have the opportunity too. There is a prisoner-published newspaper, they perform Shakespeare, the Giants and the Warriors have played games with the guys. There are art and music classes. Tennis lessons.
Here's the thing: San Q is on prime real estate in an urban environment. So it's easy for groups and individuals to volunteer their time. Prisons that are in the middle of nowhere don't get any of that. It was depressing to think about. We so want to lock people away and never think about them again. But these guys have so much time to think, and were so articulate. It made me wish everyone could get a tour so that they would see this part of our judicial system. Maybe it would be like jury service - hey you - go learn about America by visiting a jail, a military base, a poor performing school, a homeless shelter, a car factory...
We toured the gas chamber. I'm anti-death penalty in all cases. I don't think I could ever witness a execution. Our tour guide described a death row inmate's last day in hour by hour detail. The death row blocks looked dark and more forbidding than the general population, but most prisoners were just watching TVs in their cells, facing away from the hallway. The oldest prisoner on death row is 87. The longest serving death row inmate arrived in 1978. In the death row chapel the chaplain is in a locked cage separate from the locked cage of the parishioners.
Other observations:
- men who have sight or hearing impairments are given a lime green vest to wear so that the guards can tell from a distance why someone might not be responding to them
- one of the men who was just granted parole and will leave next month, shared these words of wisdom: do what you're supposed to do, so that you're free to do what you want to do
- a prisoner on death row shouted to us to check out Our Last Meals, a San Quentin cookbook (it's available on Amazon)
- while the prisoners' art is shared with schools and other places, the art made by death row inmates is sold in a gift shop that is open to the public for 2 hours a day. I was sorry to miss out on it. Apparently Scott Peterson makes chess sets that sell out quickly. Some of the art that I could see through the window looked impressive. Cash only, no change. Not sure if the money goes to the prisoners or not.
- I also didn't make it to the museum just outside the prison. We arrived at San Quentin before 0830 and left after 1430, with no food or water during that time and I was fighting a cold, so I was eager to get back home.
- prisoners can have some decent stuff if they have the financial means - TV, hot pot, microwave, Air Jordans, fancy watches, etc. I didn't see any communal TV space and forgot to ask about it.
- the mess hall is designed to try and reduce large fights. It also has incredible and detailed murals painted a very long time ago by a prisoner
- lots of signs around the rec yard telling prisoners not to feed the birds (pigeons, gulls, Canada geese)
- I regret not asking about the monotony of being in the same basically city block sized area for so long
- we saw the original cells, which were basically cave-like dungeons.
I'm so grateful I was able to go on this tour. I recommend a similar experience to everyone, and I'm definitely donating to prison reform groups. I've heard people ask why they should support former prisoners instead of someone who had never been to prison. A lot of these men committed crimes between the ages of 17-25. And they've faced their problems. A lot of men on the outside never have. And robbing a store as a teenager shouldn't come with a lifetime of punishment that means never being able to have a steady job.
The prisoners have access to therapists, to guidance counselors (to help place them in jobs in the prison, and when they get out,) teachers in all sorts of subjects, help with quitting drugs and alcohol and so much other assistance. What would our prison system look like if teenagers had that all of that in middle school and high school instead?
There were also many rules about how to dress. No jeans because the prisoners wear denim. No open toe shoes for safety. No skimpy or revealing clothing. And we all signed a no hostage policy statement, meaning while the state corrections officers would try to rescue us, we weren't going to be part of any negotiation.
The biggest surprise to me came right when we went through the front doors. Prisoners were gardening, using large shovels and hedge trimmers and other tools you wouldn't think you'd want a convicted murderer using. The men were freely walking around and talking with each other.
There are four levels of prisoners, and these guys had all earned the right to be as free as they were. It had almost a college campus feel. Guys were shopping at the canteen, or walking to class carrying books, or hanging out on their bunks watching TV or working in the on-site factory or exercising on the yard. Many of the men wore no uniform or any identifying marks that they were prisoners.
Our group met up with a group of prisoners, definitely carefully selected by San Q as having taken responsibility for their crime, showing remorse, and having taken advantage of the opportunities available in the prison. Of the ten guys, only one had finished high school on the outside. One said he made it all the way to 11th grade without ever learning how to read.
At the prison you can't work until you get your GED. All of them earned it, and some had earned an AA degree. Prison labor pays about 11 cents an hour to 60 cents an hour, and 55% of those wages go towards any restitution ordered by the court. If you have ever been inside a government building or a college dorm room or office, you're probably looking at furniture that is part of the system that benefits from what is essentially slave labor.
The 13th amendment to the US Constitution reads:
"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction."
This is why minimum wage doesn't apply, and why the school to prison pipeline helps a few rich white men get even richer.
The prices at the commissary don't match the low pay either - they match outside prices. The most popular item to buy is ramen noodles and other food. I saw cells with onions and eggs and such in them, because they all said the mess hall food was awful, and they doctored up ramen noodles for a meal. One guy said when he gets out he's never going to eat soup again.
(Apparently ramen noodles are very accurately portrayed in the Brooklyn 99 episode where Jake is in prison.)
San Q is a very integrated prison, but the men are still segregated by race in their cells (and cell blocks) and self-segregate in the yard. It's gotta be interesting as a guard to watch these guys exercise for hours on end, knowing that they are getting stronger and you're supposed to control them. (Think about how much you could exercise if there was not much else to do.)
There is a separate death row yard for prisoners to get fresh air who play well with others. For those who don't play well with others there are fenced areas that very much resemble dog pens, but allows prisoners who cannot be with anyone else to move around.
Only the death row inmates have a cell to themselves. Everyone else has bunk beds and there is barely room to stand next to the bunks.
I asked if you were fat and lazy if a guard or counselor would encourage you to go to the yard. A prisoner told me that other members of your race would make you go exercise, and that there weren't a lot of fat guys in prison. We talked briefly about accommodating the aging prison population, and accessibility needs for some prisoners.
One of the few places that creeped me out was a room with 10 very small cells in it. These was only enough room for one person to sit in each cell. Turns out this is a therapy room for guys who cannot be around other guys without protective cages around them. Wow.
The prisoner we spoke with who is in charge of cleaning that floor of the hospital said he's become certified in handling hazmat waste while in the prison. His reform took a long time. For the first 15 years he was in jail, he still smoked pot. Now he says he's been sober for years. We asked him what he thought about the fact that it's now legal on the outside. He was slightly amused, slightly sad. He said he won't smoke when he gets out.
He also said every man on his dad's side of the family, including his dad, had done time in prison. There's no easy answer for breaking that cycle. He said his biggest fear is technology, because it moves so quickly, and there are waitlists to get into the tech classes in the prison. (And non-tech classes too - sometimes up to 3 years.) I wanted to tell him anything that is techy is probably going to be outsourced or done by computer and that his hazmat training was more layoff-proof, but I didn't. He told us he hid a knife up his ass for 8 years.
I kept feeling like I should be somber but the PIO leading us around laughed a lot, with our tour group and with the prisoners. He had worked there a long time. The prisoners definitely get access to a good amount of rehabilitation opportunities. When asked if prisons were needed, most guys said yes, and a few said no. One went on to describe the German model of prisons and one guy said "I'm going to respond with an I statement... I feel that...."
Some people think prison is for punishment, or for profit, or for rehabilitation. Certainly the guys allowed to talk to us all felt that they had more to contribute to their communities now, than they did when they committed their crimes. The sentencing was all over the map. 40+ years for robbing some GameStop stores. 25 years as part of a robbery that turned into a murder.
The lifers and the non-lifers act very differently, we were told. Those who think they can get out have a reason to better themselves. At San Q they have the opportunity too. There is a prisoner-published newspaper, they perform Shakespeare, the Giants and the Warriors have played games with the guys. There are art and music classes. Tennis lessons.
Here's the thing: San Q is on prime real estate in an urban environment. So it's easy for groups and individuals to volunteer their time. Prisons that are in the middle of nowhere don't get any of that. It was depressing to think about. We so want to lock people away and never think about them again. But these guys have so much time to think, and were so articulate. It made me wish everyone could get a tour so that they would see this part of our judicial system. Maybe it would be like jury service - hey you - go learn about America by visiting a jail, a military base, a poor performing school, a homeless shelter, a car factory...
We toured the gas chamber. I'm anti-death penalty in all cases. I don't think I could ever witness a execution. Our tour guide described a death row inmate's last day in hour by hour detail. The death row blocks looked dark and more forbidding than the general population, but most prisoners were just watching TVs in their cells, facing away from the hallway. The oldest prisoner on death row is 87. The longest serving death row inmate arrived in 1978. In the death row chapel the chaplain is in a locked cage separate from the locked cage of the parishioners.
Other observations:
- men who have sight or hearing impairments are given a lime green vest to wear so that the guards can tell from a distance why someone might not be responding to them
- one of the men who was just granted parole and will leave next month, shared these words of wisdom: do what you're supposed to do, so that you're free to do what you want to do
- a prisoner on death row shouted to us to check out Our Last Meals, a San Quentin cookbook (it's available on Amazon)
- while the prisoners' art is shared with schools and other places, the art made by death row inmates is sold in a gift shop that is open to the public for 2 hours a day. I was sorry to miss out on it. Apparently Scott Peterson makes chess sets that sell out quickly. Some of the art that I could see through the window looked impressive. Cash only, no change. Not sure if the money goes to the prisoners or not.
- I also didn't make it to the museum just outside the prison. We arrived at San Quentin before 0830 and left after 1430, with no food or water during that time and I was fighting a cold, so I was eager to get back home.
- prisoners can have some decent stuff if they have the financial means - TV, hot pot, microwave, Air Jordans, fancy watches, etc. I didn't see any communal TV space and forgot to ask about it.
- the mess hall is designed to try and reduce large fights. It also has incredible and detailed murals painted a very long time ago by a prisoner
- lots of signs around the rec yard telling prisoners not to feed the birds (pigeons, gulls, Canada geese)
- I regret not asking about the monotony of being in the same basically city block sized area for so long
- we saw the original cells, which were basically cave-like dungeons.
I'm so grateful I was able to go on this tour. I recommend a similar experience to everyone, and I'm definitely donating to prison reform groups. I've heard people ask why they should support former prisoners instead of someone who had never been to prison. A lot of these men committed crimes between the ages of 17-25. And they've faced their problems. A lot of men on the outside never have. And robbing a store as a teenager shouldn't come with a lifetime of punishment that means never being able to have a steady job.
The prisoners have access to therapists, to guidance counselors (to help place them in jobs in the prison, and when they get out,) teachers in all sorts of subjects, help with quitting drugs and alcohol and so much other assistance. What would our prison system look like if teenagers had that all of that in middle school and high school instead?