She then stood at the Booking Desk and refused to go into Detox due to them being in there. After ordering her multiple times to enter Detox she finally complied, after we were about to use force to drag her into Detox. Shortly thereafter, I returned to Detox and removed all inmates except for inmates Ellery and Roskey and placed them in the gym. While in Detox both Roskey and Ellery constantly waved at the cameras and kicked the cell door causing a disturbance within the jail. I decided it would be best to split up the two, so I moved Roskey to Cell Block 2.
It made me realize how much power the government had in being able to control the people. Most of my fellow inmates were imprisoned for this very reason. They were journalist trying to expose what our government does behind the closed doors. They tell me very little about the government because of the many informants within this camp. The journalist whisper about the times before Stalin, before my time.
“You won’t do it”, Curley said in a cocky tone “I will. I swear I will”, George said in sob mixed with anger as he covered the ground between himself and Curley until the gun was touching his face. “Ok Ok we can talk bout this”, Curley said realising George was serious “We have talked. And this, this is for Lennie”. And as George said that he hit Curley on the side of the head knocking him out and giving him a cut.
Realizing the door was locked I twirled around. Only to realize my dad vanished out of the alley. I started to panic and tears streamed down my pale face. Beating my fists “thud, thump, thud” onto the black chipped railing that led the path down the ramp. The alley where the car had once sat a few moments ago now was replaced with potholes here and there with grass growing through the cracks.
The sentence can range from sixty days to 180 days. Those inmates have been to prison, got released and violated their probation. An officer from the sheriffs department, from that county drops them off. At the gate we had three officers to sign for them and start the in processing. Once the inmate comes through the gate he is immediately strip searched to check for any kind of contraband, such as drugs or weapons.
I begin to get frightened as I turn the corner to a fogged out jail, seeing prisoners banging on the cells, and trying to touch us, but as I turn the next corner, a prisoner comes out of nowhere, and scares me out of my shoes. I fell straight to the ground in shock. My heart suddenly just dropped in fear. My parents began to start laughing hysterically because of my fear. Thankfully, I was able to make it out alive and well, but I was definitely shaken up.
Ehrenreich chooses to share her bad experiences working at her restaurant, Jerry’s, which shows how degrading the work was to her and other staff members. One short experience she had at her old work was when she tried to eat on her lunch break she was told she couldn’t, basically screamed “No eating!” because the boss didn’t want her to be seen by customers. She didn’t understand why it would be so horrible to be seen eating, so she quit that job and stayed with Jerry’s. It wasn’t like Jerry’s was any better though, she worked hard every day and no matter how exhausted she would be she was told to continue because the customers need to be served. Everyone at Jerry’s was chugging ibuprofens to relieve the physical strain put on their body.
The blankets were cheap and small, the beds were made of straw and as a result, a perfect bed was not tangible. If a bed was not properly made, guards used this as an opportunity to beat prisoners. Next prisoners had some time to wash themselves up and get ready to begin work. Prior to working, prisoners were given little time to eat a meager breakfast. After breakfast, the Jews were lined up in rows of ten and counted.
I’m talking about this one, who had been a part of my life as long as I could remember, until one day he wasn’t. On October 1 of 2013, my Uncle Mike was taken to jail for an encounter with police over 10 years prior for the possession of drugs. So, yes, he did commit a crime, but that isn’t the whole story. I 'm not telling you this in some vain attempt to excuse his actions or portray him solely as a victim, because he did, in fact, always have a choice, but I hope by hearing this all of you will understand the direct impact that the marginalization, mass incarceration, and criminalization of African American men have not only on society, but on all African Americans on a very personal level. When my uncle was sent to jail, he left behind his wife, who would then have to essentially take care of two "kids," one being their 5 year old daughter, the other being my uncle.
Once I reached it, the door slams shut. I was locked in the darkness. Then I hear cans being dropped and someone’s swift footsteps. Hesitantly, I called out, “Hello, anyone there?” I called out again. Suddenly, someone grabbed onto my shoulder, and attempted to rip the jumpsuit out of my hands.
School years are mostly a blur for me, but I can remember some things (lucky me). I remember kids moving away when I sat down. I remember working on projects by myself because no one would be my partner. I remember the teachers offering me crackers because I looked like I didn’t get enough to eat at home. I remember throwing up in dingy bathrooms till snot ran down my face and vessels in my eyes burst open.