How do you transform a correctional system that has been built on institutionalized “prison politics”? These hidden politics consist of violence, racism, retaliation humiliation, and a rampant gang mentality that has been fostered by some, if not most, correctional officers and prisoners/residents alike.
The implementation of the California Model and the reimaging of San Quentin into a rehabilitation center seem to be caught in between an ideological tug-of-war: business as usual — treating the incarcerated as merely inmates with the objective to instill punishment — versus trying a humane approach: being a part of their rehabilitation.
Since Gov. Gavin Newsom’s historic announcement of turning San Quentin State Prison into a rehabilitation center, I have witnessed some groundbreaking “Bridging the Gap” events between correctional staff and residents. I have seen correctional staff play residents in basketball and softball. I have seen correctional staff receive haircuts from incarcerated barbers. Some staff even brought in remote-controlled cars into the Lower Yard to race against the residents. This simple gesture released the inner kid in everyone.
However, between these Bridging the Gap events, I have seen San Quentin go from an open environment to being subject to housing unit shut-downs with hourly unlocks. There has been an influx of residents, due to the closure of other prisons, that has caused the new “rehabilitation center” to feel overcrowded. There has been an increase in resident-on-resident violence, alleged murders, and suicides. There are longer waiting lists for self-help groups and jobs . Officers are increasing random pat-down searches.
These incidents have us long-term residents scratching our heads in frustration as to how we went from a state prison leading in rehabilitation, where the residents use their conflict resolution skills, to a rehabilitation center that is starting to feel more like the old state prisons we left. Even a White friend of mine felt the need to cut off his hair and start working out again to not be an outcast to his incoming peers, when education was his passion.
We know from our self-help groups that transformation is a process. We understand that some correctional staff and residents are traumatized from past actions and lack trust in each other. These past interactions have caused an us-against-them attitude on both sides. These continued ideologies have reinforced these biases and prejudices. But healing is a process, too, and that takes reflection and courage.
I must commend this current San Quentin administration. I do believe they are invested in ushering in San Quentin’s rehabilitation future, even when the buy-in has not trickled down, in spite of good-faith efforts. What I have learned — and it is sad to say — is that it will take us, those incarcerated, to teach and invest in our own transformation. The renaming of this place is not going to magically make people want to change their lives for the better. It will be the conscious choice of the people.
Over the decade that I have been at San Quentin, I have seen administration and residents work together; that work transformed over a hundred of the prison’s formerly incarcerated residents into outstanding and productive citizens. Those citizens are now leading social justice organizations and businesses, and are returning to this rehabilitation center to facilitate self-help groups. These success stories are probably one of the reasons Gov. Newsom chose to invest in San Quentin as a real solution that enhances public safety.
However, change is scary for some people because of the uncertainty; those people are satisfied with the status quo where they find comfort in their “power and control” issues, and this can be true for both residents and staff.
Which future will win out? I have to ask as we struggle through this perpetual tug-of-war between different administrative policies, staff, prison politics, and what the Norway/California Model is supposed to look like. Due to the continuous back and forth of these conflicting operating ideologies, I must cheer on those brave residents, correctional staff, and administrators throughout the system who are pulling for a better future where the words “corrections” and “rehabilitation” will no longer be at odds with each other but become a system that produces a more healthy California and a safer state.
