Breaking the Prison Habit
Michael Blunk
On March 1, 2001, I stopped smoking tobacco—this time for good. How many times had I quit only to relapse, I could not rightly say, but what I can tell you with absolute certainty is that breaking any habit is exhaustingly difficult. Many months passed before those gnawing desires and cravings for cigarettes finally went away.
I know something about addiction. For eight years, I worked with substance abusers in an urban rescue mission. In that time of eye-opening experiences, I learned that addiction is a cruel master that fights to retain its deadly grip upon its victims. While most of the addictions I saw were chemically related, not all habits point to alcohol or opioids. Overeating may become a bad habit. Uncontrolled anger can be habitual. Illogical thinking can be habitual. Complaining can be habit-forming. Laziness can become a habit difficult to break. Almost anything bad or detrimental to our happiness and well-being can be addictive.
Say, did you ever stop to consider that, for some, prison is a bad habit?
A number of years ago, a recently released parolee I had met during my four-year teaching stint at a men’s prison, dropped by my office unannounced. I was happy to see him, of course, but this former student was having a difficult time adjusting to life on the outside. He complained that the halfway house where he resided was riddled with bedbugs and illicit drugs. To compound matters, he had not been able to find work. Matthew explained, “It’s only a matter of time before the halfway house is shut down because of the constant criminal activities. Even though I’m not using narcotics, I’ll probably get busted along with everyone else. And I can’t find a job. No one in this town wants to hire me. Back home, I have family who will support me and I’ve been promised a job, but I don’t have transportation. I’m stuck here.”
“None of your family members can pick you up and take you home?” I asked.
“They’re poor. They drive old cars and cannot afford the gas.”
“But if you could make it home, you would have a safe place to live, right?”
“Oh, yes! And I have an old high school buddy who is a supervisor at a warehouse. He can get me a good paying job. If I remain here, I’m going to end up back in prison.”
“If I purchased a bus ticket,” I asked, “would you be ready to leave?”
“If I had a bus ticket, I’d leave today. I’d leave this very moment.”
I made a quick call to Greyhound and within minutes, he had a one way ticket home. Matthew graciously thanked me for my help. I could well afford the price of bus fare, and if a ride home would help him rebuild his life, I considered this money well spent.
A few weeks later, while making my way across the prison yard, I heard someone calling my name. It was Matthew. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you had gone home.”
Giving me a sheepish grin, he said, “Uh, I got into a little trouble, so they sent me back here.”
“I’m sorry to hear this,” I said.
He just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “I really don’t mind. Prison isn’t all that bad. I’m okay being here. Don’t worry about me.”
Prison had become a bad habit for my young friend Matthew. Let’s talk about this.
An inmate is said to be “institutionalized” when he or she begins to accept the challenges and routines of prison life as the norm. Over time, some inmates begin feeling comfortable and even “at home” in an environment of iron doors, overcrowding, bad food, separation from family, and the loss of personal liberties.
At the close of one of our classroom sessions, a young inmate in attendance eagerly explained, “Prison life isn’t so bad. I never have to worry about my next meal and I am surrounded by friends who keep me company.” On one hand, some might say he had satisfactorily adapted to the rigors of prison life. In my mind, however, he had become institutionalized to the point where leading a normal life such as raising a family, pursuing a career, and contributing to the overall betterment of society was no longer appealing. Upon his release, he risked being just the kind of convicted felon who would intentionally break the law and return to prison when life on the outside proved daunting or stressful.
Prisons are, by nature, dreary, loathsome places, but when razor wire and concrete walls are esteemed as a “safe place,” be assured the inmate who is comfortable with prison life has been institutionalized. This may explain why the rate of recidivism among offenders is staggeringly high. For many, incarceration is highly addictive and it is up to us to help these individuals break the prison habit.
For most of us, the suffocatingly structured life of incarceration presents itself as a hellish, nightmarish existence. We cling to our personal liberties. We relish individual freedoms that afford us “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Of course, the freedoms we enjoy come at a cost. Most of us are responsible for either a rental or a mortgage payment at the first of each month. Inmates don’t pay rent. Furthermore, we spend a sizable portion of our earnings on food, clothing, and utilities. While prison food is a byword among gourmets and orange khakis may not be the height of fashion, prisoners are nevertheless fed, clothed, kept warm in winters, and don’t pay for water, electricity, and garbage pickup. In this nation of endless surface roads and highways, many of us depend upon an automobile or public transportation to get us to and from work, but inmates need not worry about crowded subways, delayed buses, monthly car payments, insurance premiums, the high cost of gasoline, and vehicular maintenance. No one is booted out of prison for being broke. The “perks” of prison, if we dare call them that, have been paid in full by the generosity of taxpayers.
Again, the notion of earning a living and managing the complexities of life may appear to be a monumental task for those who are ill-equipped in caring for themselves, so becoming a ward of the government allows these individuals to escape the demands and responsibilities of adulthood. In other words, prison becomes the easy way of living one’s life. Simply allow uniformed correctional officers to determine when to rise, when to sleep, when to eat, when to shower, what to wear, where to go, and what to do. What could be easier, right? Wrong.
How are we to help our friends and loved ones who have become institutionalized? A reasonable, workable, thoughtfully prepared parole release plan, sometimes known as a prison release plan, is a blueprint or, if you will, a game plan that makes the transition from prison life to thriving on the outside simpler and less intimidating. A proper parole release plan gives the released offender a step by step guide to success. The guess work is gone and decisions are made ahead of time. We might even say that a properly prepared parole release plan is like a GPS that shows the way to life as it is intended to be lived.
Not only is a workable parole release plan vitally useful in this time of transition, but it can be tailor-made to suit the individual’s needs. There is no such “one size fits all” parole release plan; furthermore, a workable parole release plan can be prepared by anyone who can follow a few simple “how to” instructions.
Anyone leaving prison should have a plan. No one intentionally plans to fail, but multitudes fail to plan and this lack of planning often leads to ongoing incarceration.
If you would like to learn more about parole release plans, click the button provided. And remember, even if your loved one is serving out his or her sentence and will not face a parole hearing, a suitable parole release plan guards against the dangers of recidivism.
Let’s end this vicious cycle of catch and release.
An Important Note to Those
With Incarcerated Loved Ones
I developed my parole release plan while teaching at a men’s prison. I wanted to give my incarcerated friends a fighting chance for success when facing the parole board while petitioning for an early release. The laws surrounding probation and parole varies from state to state, but the need for a logical release strategy is universal. Every inmate should have a written plan—a blueprint for success that will keep them from the grips of recidivism. If you have a loved one who is eligible for release from prison, let me urge you to assist him or her in devising a written plan for success on the outside. My easy to read, easy to understand parole release plan guidelines will show you how to prepare a release plan that will enhance your loved one’s chances of success. With your involvement, we can help inmates break the prison habit.