Let's talk about contraband cell phones in prison, shall we? To let government officials tell it, we use them to threaten and harass witnesses and victims in our case, extort money from New victims and smuggle drugs in or plan escapes, but the truth is anything but. This isn't to say that the occasional idiot hasn't used a cell phone to do this, only that these are exceptions to the rule, very rare exceptions. For the most part, those who were fortunate enough to get their hands on a phone use them to be a part of their loved ones' lives. The other day, I personally loaned my phone to a guy to call his granddaughter to wish her a happy birthday. This was an older guy, a veteran biker of numerous turf wars on the streets and even more in prison. I didn't think anything about it, but 2 hours later he hasn't returned, so I went down to check up on him. When I got to his cell, he was just hanging up the phone, and I was floored by what I seen as he turned to see who was at his door. This grizzled old convict, a man nobody would even consider disrespecting because of his reputation, was in tears, and I'm not talking about a single tear that silently runs down you're face. His face and beard were soaked with tears, his face all scrunched up in a hideous mask as he unsuccessfully struggled to contain his emotions.
I broke several cardinal rules that day. First, I walked into his cell without asking. Not only was it a violation for anyone to do this, it was a bigger breach of protocol for me to do it, as I'm bisexual. My next violation was sitting on his bed, next to him, no less. He was in such pain and I wanted to comfort him, but the orison code of conduct had me hamstrung. Suddenly, without warning, he turns to me and hugs me, fiercely. Without thinking, I returned his hug and he lost it. He held me with all of his might as his body shook and heaved with his sobs. I don't know how long he held me, crying, but he clearly needed. Finally, the story began to emerge.
Turns out that this was the first time he'd ever spoke to his granddaughter. Not only that, but it being her birthday, everyone was there to celebrate, so he'd had a chance to speak with people he hadn't spoken to in years, including a number of family members he'd abused for years, and during this call, he'd done something he'd wanted to do for years, but had never been able to because of the ever watchful eye of the prison guards. He not only acknowledged his misbehavior, he also apologized, and this was a man who'd never apologized for anything in his life.
I'm not going to say all of his problems magically disappeared, because they didn't. I will, however, say that he got up from that bunk a changed man, all because if a contraband cell phone. He's been writing to the people he spoke to that day, trying to understand just how his actions impacted them, trying to many amends, and from time to time, I let him use my phone to call home. When I do, I send it with a washrag, my way of reminding him it's okay to cry.
I haven't used my cell phone to reconnect with anyone, mainly because I never really had those kinds of connections, but I have used it in other ways. I've started a Twitter account (@F0Q_CDCR) which I use to tweet about the various injustices in CDCR. In just a little under 3 months, I've accumulated over 1,300 followers, a list which includes numerous reporters, lawyers, advocacy organizations, an occasional Senator and family members of the incarcerated. These people seem to want to know what's going on in here, so I try to answer their questions as honestly as I can.
I also have a Facebook account, John Imprisoned Smith. I participate in a number of Facebook groups, run a few of my own, including Destiny's Story, which is a story about the impacts of or incarceration on our loved ones. Most of what I do is helping the people in the outside world navigate the complexities of the ever changing CDCR, but I also run an underground free law clinic where I poi t my followers in the right direction, help them with research, etc. I've used these platforms to push for a number of changes in the CDCR, including the retirement of CDCR's current secretary, Ralph Diaz. With my cell phone, I've been able to become politically active in ways previously unimagined to somebody in prison.
Finally, for almost 20 years I worked with my counselors and case managers on my parole plans, and at every step of the way, my plans were approved. Noe, at the last possible second I'm told my plans are unacceptable, that I'd have to parole to a different county as a transient instead of to one of the counties I had a place to stay, employment and a support group. Not being one to take defeat lying down, I started a fundraiser, and while I'm still woefully short of what I need to do what I'm trying to do, I've managed to raise enough to cover a month's rent in a motel room, so I can't complain.
At the end of the day, a cell phone is just another tool. The technology exists to allow people in prison to safely use cell phones and social media, but they Choose not to, not because of the dangers our having a cell phone poses to people in the free world, but because of the danger it poses to the prison. With a cell phone, and freedom to use it, we'd expose the corruption in CDCR in a nanosecond, which is why they've never allowed us anything with recording capabilities, not even a cassette player.
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