Opposition to Rehabilitative Prison Programs Reflects Colossal Mismanagement
by Efren Paredes, Jr.
The afternoon of February 17, 2014 I spoke with Kinross Correctional Facility Deputy Warden Kathy Olson while she was visiting my housing unit.
I approached Deputy Olson with copies of letters that prisoners had written to Warden Duncan MacLaren expressing support for a conflict resolution class I had been co-facilitating at the prison for the past year.
Staff at the prison previously spoke to me under condition of anonymity and told me the class was being considered for termination by Deputy Olson. She was making this decision despite never visiting the class to witness its success.
Deputy Olson told me she had previously received copies of the letters I attempted to share with her, but she had not had time to read them. She also indicated the class would likely be canceled soon because, "There is no support for the class from Lansing."
The conflict resolution class was developed by the National Lifers of America (NLA) at the prison to help reduce widespread violence that was being widely ignored by prison staff.
The only staff solution to stemming the tide of violence was exacting punishment on the offenders. There was no interest in identifying the source of the dysfunctional behavior that was manifesting itself in the form of violence.
Through the conflict resolution class the NLA sought to provide meaningful programming to prisoners serving life or long indeterminate sentences who are categorically excluded from programs offered by the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC).
The MDOC focuses on offering programming to prisoners who are nearing their release dates and ignores the programming needs of prisoners serving life and long indeterminate sentences.
It is the position of the MDOC that these prisoners may never be released or the potential for their return to society will be years away.
The fact that they are human beings in dire need of guidance and coping skills to help them navigate the difficulties and stresses of incarceration is disregarded.
When no remedy is pursued, negative character traits that prisoners adopt during their incarceration can become an indelible part of their personality.
Statistically 90% of all prisoners return to society. This number not only reflects prisoners serving smaller sentences, it includes those serving long terms as well.
Disregarding this reality and not providing rehabilitative programming to all prisoners is discriminatory and perilous to society. This cycle of neglect perpetuates criminality and ensures another generation of incarceration.
The NLA refused to turn a blind eye to this irrational thinking and took a proactive approach to developing a solution. They understood that continuing to ignore the problem only exacerbated an already volatile situation.
The organization not only worked to prevent conflict, but to also provide a space where prisoners could discuss their problems and work together as a community to develop realistic solutions.
One of the things emphasized to class participants was the need to understand that whether we are in society or in prison we live in a community, and we have a responsibility to care for that community and the people in it.
This is an important concept because too often prisoners do not view themselves as being part of a community while they are incarcerated. They detach themselves emotionally from their surroundings and feel no need to care for those adversely affected.
This abandonment further harms the community by devaluing others and promoting individualism over communalism. It makes prisoners numb to the destruction of the human spirit.
It is the antithesis of the flowering of human consciousness (i.e., erodes growth and development).
When the conflict resolution class was first conceptualized the NLA approached one of the Assistant Resident Unit Supervisor (ARUS), Alma Potts, to invite her to co-facilitate the class with the group.
The NLA felt that having a staff member co-facilitate the class with prisoners would create a unique partnership to reach the prisoner population to get to the root of the violence problem, rather than look for a band-aid solution to its destructive symptoms.
ARUS Potts accepted the invitation and was instrumental in the success of the class while it was available. She attended nearly every class and was only absent when her work schedule prevented it.
During the year the class was being taught it received overwhelming support from the entire prisoner population. A number of staff members supported the class because they recognized that it was reducing violence at the prison and improving prisoner and staff communication.
A few members of the Mental Health Department attended weekly classes as observers when their schedules permitted and they offered invaluable advice and feedback during class sessions. It was the partnership of ARUS Potts, the members of the Mental Health team, and the prisoner co-facilitators that truly made the conflict resolution class a success.
Since the prison administrator in charge of programming, Deputy Olson, had no involvement in the success of the class and offered it no support, it was not a project she wanted to see flourish.
Deputy Olson always had a negative attitude towards prisoners when they attempted to speak with her about the class and she left many prisoners with the feeling that she was not only anti-programming, but also anti-prisoner.
Evidence of Deputy Olson's opposition to rehabilitative programming had been witnessed in the weeks leading up to February 17, 2014.
A few months earlier she terminated an NLA class that taught prisoners about the business world and fundamentals of becoming an entrepreneur upon release. Deputy Olson's reason for terminating the class was that it was "not supported by Lansing."
The "not supported by Lansing" response was a recurring excuse she subsequently began using to end other classes as well. It was her way of terminating classes or preventing them without taking responsibility for her actions.
She figured that most prisoners would not follow up on her decision-making and, if and when they did, she could transfer them to another prison to rid her of the issue and not have to be accountable for her actions.
Deputy Olson also openly banned prisoners in the music program from performing rap music during concerts at the prison. Bands were permitted to perform any other genre of music except rap.
The latter reflected a racist attitude, lack of sensitivity towards the culture and music of the Black community, and a reckless abuse of authority. Her attitude towards prisoners of color was and always remained openly hostile. According to one Kinross Correctional Facility staff person close to the situation who asked to remain unnamed, "Olson doesn't give a f*ck about prisoners!" The person added that Olson also doesn't respect prisoners.
While Deputy Olson has been in charge of programming at the prison there have been no Latino organizations approved at the facility (e.g., Latin American Spanish-Speaking Organization (LASSO), Hispanics Striving Towards Advancement (HASTA), etc.).
Whenever an attempt was made to have a Latino organization function at the prison it was always quickly dismissed. Any prisoner who was persistent about trying to get the facility to have one of the organizations was transferred to another prison.
There was an equally hostile attitude toward Latino prisoners at a neighboring prison, the Chippewa Correctional Facility, which also prohibited Latino organizations.
The facility's ethnic and racial intimidation actions against Black and Latino prisoners are widely recognized by prisoners across the state. Any prisoner who has ever been housed at the facility has witnessed or been a victim to the abuse.
The actions by Chippewa Correctional Facility staff have earned it the shameful honor of being recognized as perhaps the most racially hostile prison in the State of Michigan. It is noted that the Warden at the Kinross Correctional Facility, Duncan MacLaren, was the former Deputy Warden at the Chippewa Correctional Facility.
These actions emboldened Deputy Olson to find comfort in expressing her anti-Black and Latino sentiment since her position was a shared one espoused by other prisons in the region.
The day after I spoke with Deputy Olson in my efforts to save the conflict resolution class I was placed in the segregation unit (i.e., solitary confinement) and subsequently transferred to the Marquette Branch Prison, a maximum security facility.
I was falsely accused of inciting dozens of prisoners to riot at the Kinross Correctional Facility about the ongoing litany of problems with Aramark Corporation's preparation of the food served to prisoners.
After spending nearly 10 days in segregation I was eventually vindicated of the false charges against me and released back to the prisoner population.
While being housed in segregation I learned that Deputy Olson was the person who approved my transfer and security level increase.
It came as no surprise since I already knew the long-established pattern of retaliation she and other administrators in the region had previously executed against prisoners who sought progressive change and an end to the hostilities against prisoners that occurred under their watch.
After I was released from solitary confinement I learned that Deputy Olson canceled the conflict resolution class at the Kinross Correctional Facility despite its popularity and year-long success. Deputy Olson orchestrated my transfer from the prison to avoid further challenges to her continued termination and denial of programming opportunities. Her actions were intended to also serve as a clear warning to other prisoners of the consequences for addressing her anti-programming stance at the prison. Sadly, none of this is new. It may just be new to most readers. Since the majority of prisoners do not have the capacity to share their stories and experiences with society via the Internet or newspapers, most abuses never enter the public domain.
Prisons have developed a host of ways to circumvent oversight from legislators and they make all their decisions in the "interest of security" to avoid courts from micromanaging them.
In Michigan the media is not even permitted to film or take photographs inside its prisons. The last time it was they uncovered widespread corruption and sexual abuse of women prisoners. The result was embarrassing litigation and substantial financial damages being awarded to the victims.
Until the public begins investigating instances of prisoner abuse and demanding accountability of the nearly $2 billion of taxpayer dollars spent annually by the MDOC, the cycle of prisoner abuse will persist.
And, the longer the abuse is ignored, the more it will manifest exponentially.