CV: Let’s continue on the subject of the day-to-day prison experience. In our last interview, as we talked about solitary confinement, you described one of the most isolating experiences possible; but other aspects of life behind bars are also very isolating. For instance, prisoners usually have no contact with animals, unless through a Leader Dog or other training program. What is it like to have a Leader Dog program at your current facility?
EPJ: We have seven dogs who live in our housing unit, in the same cell with the prisoner dog handlers who train them. One highlight of my day is getting to pet some of the dogs. Prisoners who are not in the dog program are allowed to pet the dogs when they are not receiving training during the day, with permission from their trainers.
I enjoy watching the dogs grow up from the time they are puppies and learning the commands they are taught by their prisoner-trainers. Having personally worked in the braille industry for many years it is a special experience for me, because I understand the value of the puppies becoming future leader dogs to blind or visually impaired people one day.
Until last year, the last time I was able to see or pet a puppy was almost three decades ago. I have been able to pet adult dogs at other prisons who have service dog programs, but never a puppy. Seeing a puppy again after all these years for the first time was almost surreal.
CV: So you’re forty-five years old, and this is the first time in your adult life that you’ve ever petted a puppy. What was that like?
EPJ: The first puppy I was able to pet seemed so small at just six weeks old. He didn’t even seem real at first; he looked miniature like a stuffed animal to me. I remember thinking, “Wow, this is a really cute puppy. He should be in someone’s home or playing in their yard though, not in prison.” I think all these reasons were partly why he didn’t seem real to me at first. He seemed so out of place.
When I actually touched the puppy for the first time it instantly made the whole experience real. Seeing him look at me, hearing the small noises he was making, feeling him lick and smell me made him come to life. I think my heart was warmed from petting him even more than he enjoyed the affection he received by me petting him.
I especially enjoy watching the puppies play with each other, trying to run away from their trainers; or when they first arrive, how stubborn they are about being on their leash. Sometimes they want to go exploring all around the prison and other times they will just stop on the sidewalk, lay down, and refuse to listen or walk anymore like a little kid. It’s refreshing when juxtaposed against the madness I witness each day.
It also reminded me just how many experiences I have missed in life during my incarceration and how many of life’s little things people take for granted. It is moments like these that are humbling and teach me valuable lessons about humanity and appreciating the gifts of life.
My daughter has two little Chihuahua dogs that she adores and shares stories with me about all the time. Now that I am around dogs all day long I can relate more to her experiences and understand why they give her so much joy. She gets excited when she gets to see or pet the dogs at the prison (especially the puppies) that get to accompany their dog handlers to the visiting room when we are visiting.
Another thing that seeing dogs in prison makes me think about is how difficult it has to be for so many pets who are not properly cared for, kept in cages, or confined in small areas. I know how it feels for a human to live in these conditions and I would not wish it upon anyone who does not pose a danger to society. Until someone has endured the painful experience of incarceration they can never truly understand what it feels like.
CV: Now up to this point, we’ve talked about an environment where physical danger, sleep deprivation, isolation, and other unnatural living conditions create enormous instability and high personal risk. At the same time, prison comes with a lot of rules governing every aspect of behavior. How hard can it be to follow those rules?
EPJ: Very hard. If you don’t understand what life is like in prison every day, you don’t realize how many things can be going on that no one ever reads in the misconduct reports that are part of a prisoner’s file.
People are going to defend themselves against assaultive, abusive, or predatory behavior from time to time during their incarceration because they are going to be tested by other prisoners, especially when they first enter the system. Whether it be to avoid having things stolen from them, being extorted, or someone trying to harm or intimidate them, occasions will occur when a person has to defend themselves. The alternative is allowing themselves to be hurt or taken advantage of.
A prisoner has no idea when a problem may arise over something as insignificant as another prisoner mistakenly thinking that someone took cuts in the phone line, or a prisoner starting rumors about another prisoner. I have seen people get sliced with box cutter razors across their faces, get boiling water and grease thrown in their face, or get seriously stabbed over things like that.
At a prison I was formerly at in Jackson, a prisoner placed a padlock on another prisoner’s cell door while he was inside the cell to prevent him from being able to exit and then lit the cell on fire, nearly killing the prisoner inside the cell over an argument they had. At another prison, a prisoner stabbed another prisoner and killed him while taking a shower, over an argument at the poker table. The prisoner who was killed was showering in preparation for a visit he was expecting from his family a short time later.
While staff may be available to assist or protect prisoners, the reality is that there are a much smaller number of staff than prisoners, and staff can’t possibly prevent or intervene in every problem. Staff actually miss way more problems than they prevent each day. Usually when a conflict between prisoners has been resolved or averted it is because friends of prisoners who had the conflict came together and resolved it before it spiraled out of control.
The other thing about the prison world that many in society don’t understand is that prisoners have to learn to take care of themselves without the help of staff. If prisoners go to staff to resolve a problem between them and another prisoner they will quickly earn the label of being a “rat” or “informant.” Either of these labels can result in creating an even bigger problem for themselves.
For instance, the other prisoner may try to assault the prisoner because s/he feels that s/he tried to get them into trouble. If other prisoners find out about it they will begin calling the prisoner a rat and s/he will begin being targeted to be robbed, extorted, or victimized in other ways. The person will be ostracized by the prisoner population and the label will travel with them to whatever prison they go to next.
During my incarceration I have been faced with difficult choices at times because of the reckless actions of others (which mainly occurred during my earlier years behind bars). Whenever it came to my safety I always defended myself and refused to allow myself to be hurt regardless if the consequences were going to solitary confinement.
Older prisoners told me early on if I allowed people to take advantage of me at the beginning of my incarceration it would continue happening the rest of my time in prison and grow increasingly worse. I also saw how other prisoners were treated that didn’t stand up for themselves and it wasn’t a prospect I was willing to entertain.
CV: So a person can be guilty of misconducts for committing necessary actions of self-defense.
EPJ: That’s one aspect, yes. But the issues surrounding misconduct are complex. There is real misconduct. Some people simply make bad choices, and/or choose to be predatory or act out their defiance. At the same time, many others who receive misconduct reports don’t get a choice at all. For example, it’s common for prisoners to hide contraband such as drugs and weapons in other prisoners’ areas of control to prevent being found in possession of these items themselves. But since it is your area of control (that is, your part of the cell), anything found there is assumed to be your responsibility. Some prisoners who don’t get along with their cellmate set that person up by intentionally putting weapons in their area of control. They then direct staff where to find the weapons so the targeted prisoner can be moved to solitary confinement, and the informer can get another cellmate. Others may hide contraband in other prisoners’ work areas for staff to find, so that the targeted prisoner will lose their job and create an opportunity for other prisoners to obtain the job.
A second problem is that staff intentionally cultivate a network of informants among prisoners, and reward those who are “productive.” Some of the incentives for informing may include transferring a prisoner to another prison, cell moves, job promotions, food, and other things. On one hand, informers often supply staff with false reports in order to get the rewards. But on the other, some staff create pressure to keep their network of prisoner informants yielding results, regardless of how this makes other prisoners into collateral damage. A report is received, and it may be true, or not. But the general consensus of prison administrators is to err on the side of caution, even if that means putting a prisoner in solitary confinement for something he or she did not do.
Prisoners who inform staff falsely may also be trying to get themselves out of trouble. For instance, I was issued a misconduct report once for possession of a mobile broadband Internet device nearly a decade ago, which was not in my possession or area of control. It was located in a work area that 40+ prisoners had access to. The guilty finding was based solely on a tip from another prisoner who was seeking to be released from solitary confinement so that he wouldn’t lose his prison job.
While I was in solitary confinement my attorney visited the prisoner informant to ask him if he actually made the false statement against me claiming that the device belonged to me and that I allegedly gave it to him to hide somewhere in the building. I knew it was a complete lie so I figured it was worth giving the prisoner an opportunity to come clean and be honest after he achieved his objective to be released from solitary confinement.
To our complete surprise, the prisoner told my attorney that prison staff fabricated the alleged statement attributed to him against me and he claimed to have never implicated me in any way. When my attorney asked him to sign a sworn affidavit to verify in writing what he had just convey to him about the false statement, the prisoner said he feared retaliation from prison staff if he did so and declined to sign the affidavit.
CV: Why do you think any member of the staff might choose to fabricate a report against a prisoner?
EPJ: I have heard staff members target prisoners to receive misconduct reports because they were Muslims, Latino, African-American, gay, or because of the crimes for which they were sentenced, on numerous occasions. One time I wrote a grievance against a staff member who lied about opening incoming legal mail I received from my attorney outside of my presence in violation of policy. When I was interviewed by the Asst. Deputy Warden he remarked, “There is nothing in policy that says staff can’t lie.” I mention this because when prison administrators feel this way they silently give permission to their staff to commit acts of improprieties with impunity.
Unfortunately, fabrication of misconducts is too common of a problem. Misconduct reports are used as tools of manipulation and even abuse by certain staff members who know that the weight of credibility is all on their side. They write exaggerated, false or vindictive reports in order to punish or harass prisoners; sometimes with the purpose of getting a prisoner put into solitary confinement, transferred to a more secure (and restrictive) level of custody, moved to a different housing unit, or sent to another prison.
The latter is a side to the process that judges, prosecutors, and members of the public do not see, nor do they know the context and circumstances in which things occurred.
CV: Returning to you personally, what misconducts have you received in thirty years of incarceration?
EPJ: I have received 19 misconduct reports over a 30-year span. The majority of the rule violations have involved being considered out of place. For example, standing in another prisoner’s doorway, going to work late, being in my cell but not on my bunk during a formal institutional count time, missing a health care appointment, etc.
I also received misconduct reports for taking the chicken I received on my meal tray from the dining hall back to the housing unit to include as part of a meal later that day, not being able to urinate within an hour for a random drug test, possession of money, possessing football game betting slips, etc.
I have never received a misconduct report for fighting, drug use or possession, possessing weapons, threatening behavior, insolence, or disobeying a direct order. The only assault-related misconduct report I ever received was for pulling my arm away from a staff member ten years ago who aggressively and inappropriately grabbed my arm without warning or my consent. No one was injured in the incident in any way. Other than this one instance I have never received a misconduct report for committing a violent act.
I take full responsibility for the misconduct reports I am guilty of. I admitted guilt to them and pled guilty at each hearing because it was the appropriate thing to do. But that said, I will not take responsibility for ones I did not do. Some were fabricated because I was being uncooperative with a staff member or because another prisoner lied about me to staff. However, the majority of the misconduct reports I received I was guilty of, and some of the choices I made were careless and immature.
At the same time, serving a life sentence without parole, I had no incentive to care about misconduct reports when I received them. In fact, the farthest thing from the mind of anyone sentenced to die in prison is following the rules. Their minds are consumed with surviving one more day, making the most of each moment, and doing whatever is necessary to accomplish that. They encounter many periods of desperation and in those moments they do impulsive things with little or no regard for the consequences. Even so, looking back, I regret my mistakes and wish I had made better choices.
CV: Why would pulling away from a staff member result in your receiving a misconduct report for assault if no one was hurt?
EPJ: The prison defines any nonconsensual contact between a prisoner and a staff member as assault, regardless of injury and even if the staff member initiates the contact. If a prisoner accidently bumps into any part of a staff member’s body and s/he didn’t even see the staff member beforehand it is considered assault by definition of the prison disciplinary policy.
CV: You state that as someone serving a life sentence, you had no incentive to care about misconduct reports when you received them. Yet you also seem to think this was a mistake and showed a lack of maturity. As someone who is still serving a life sentence without parole, why do you now think it’s a better choice to avoid misconduct citations wherever possible?
EPJ: The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, “Whoever battled with monsters had better see that it does not turn him into a monster. And if you gaze long in an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” Life in prison can be just like this.
I believe when we know better we should do better. As I have aged, come to understand myself better, and developed more patience and self-control, I have done a better job of governing my behavior. I continue learning and growing every day. I also keep striving to evolve spiritually and become a better thinker and decision-maker.
Today I understand that the more positive external reference points I have in my life the better choices I will make. I am also aware of the need to be more accountable not only to myself but also to my wife, daughter, and my parents. I remind myself, “This is bigger than you,” and try living my life accordingly.
I will not become a reflection of the monstrous experiences I have wrestled with or the abyss I have lived in all these years, nor will I be defined by what has happened to me. I subscribe to the belief that I can be whatever I choose to become and I am committed to being the best version of myself I can be.
CV: In pointing out some of the complexities involved in misconduct reports, you’ve implied that we shouldn’t take them at face value. But a common assertion in the dialogue over a person’s fitness for parole is that misconduct reports in prison demonstrate that someone may be unable to follow rules or unprepared to return to society. How do you respond to that?
EPJ: Misconducts (the genuine ones, not false accusations) reflect a wide variety of situations and conditions; and most prison rule violations are not even considered a misdemeanor in society. Sometimes, it is true that misconducts can be symptomatic of the inability to deal with structure and follow rules, or reflect violent tendencies. However, in many instances, I believe that when a prisoner receives genuine misconduct reports, it may be more indicative of their inability to deal with the horrors of being caged like an animal for years.
In her book, “Rising Strong,” grounded theory researcher Dr. Brene Brown writes, “We are most dangerous to ourselves and to the people around us when we feel powerless. Powerlessness leads to fear and desperation.” In the case of prisoners, their feelings of powerlessness also manifest as anxiety, frustration, and rebellion, as well as in other amplified and energized toxic thought patterns.
Ironically, when I saw the Parole Board a decade ago and told them I was 13 years misconduct-free they remarked that it was not of real importance to them because people had appeared before them before who were 30 years misconduct-free and not been released. In other words, the number of misconduct reports a prisoner receives was not overly significant to them.
I also know many former prisoners who committed dozens of rule violations while incarcerated who have been released, started families, businesses, earned college degrees, and become productive citizens. Some prisoners have committed hundreds of rule violations and successfully reintegrated back into society.
My 30-year experience in prison, being in contact with thousands of prisoners, and speaking with countless prison staff members, have taught me that there is no direct correlation between the number of misconduct reports a prisoner receives and their success upon release. Living life in prison and living life in free society are two completely different worlds.
I believe it’s only fair to say that prison misconduct reports should not be the most important or deciding factor in the current debate over how juvenile lifers are resentenced. It should be considered but it should not be overly relied upon, or a sole deciding factor.
CV: Going back to how misconducts are defined by prison administrators: has the Michigan Department of Corrections always used the same classification system for misconduct reports?
EPJ: No, the MDOC changed its classification of misconduct reports several years ago, because years of research informed them that misconduct reports that were previously considered to be major rule infractions actually are not. They also discovered that prisoners were being wrongly denied parole and spending more time in prison than necessary because of what amounted to minor rule infractions.
Under the revised misconduct classification system only seven of the nineteen misconduct reports I have received in 30 years would be considered major violations. The other twelve would be considered minor rule infractions under this standard. This is a very low number considering the amount of time I have served in prison.
According to the Michigan Department of Corrections the average prisoner receives 2.2 misconduct reports per year. Thus, the average prisoner who serves 30 years behind bars receives approximately 66 misconduct reports. In comparison, the seven misconduct reports I have received (averaging one every four years) would be considered very good.
CV: On the national level, most prison systems now use proven tests to assess the risks of releasing a person. What tests have you received, and how do the results reflect your fitness to reenter society?
EPJ: I’ve received three major assessments, and two were done by a psychologist. The Inventory of Offender Risk, Needs, and Strengths (IORNS) supports the fact that my overall risk index is low: I have good mechanisms for regulating my behavior and managing anger, few treatment and supervision needs, and greater strengths and fewer risks/needs than 94% of the prisoner population. This test was also designed to detect manipulation, and in my case, it held that I had been honest, and the results were valid.
Most recently, I was administered the Correctional Offender Management Profiling for Alternative Sanctions (COMPAS) test by the housing unit prison counselor. That test also revealed that my risk of violence, recidivism, and supervision levels are all low, and reflected no inconsistent response or faking concerns.
Additionally, I was administered an MMPI-2 test by a psychologist in recent years which indicated I have tendencies toward moralistic thinking, am sincere, and socially responsible. It stated that I prize agreeableness, trust, and avoidance of conflict. It also indicated I am receptive to treatment and want to work on myself. Sounds like it’s been reading my blog. (laughs)
Of course, there are other factors that reflect my real life behavior. I’m housed in the lowest custody level that a prisoner serving a life sentence can be housed in (i.e., Level 2) and I score zero points on my security classification screen. If you’re an outsider looking at me from a data standpoint, the data is overwhelming: I am a very good candidate for release consideration and would pose a low risk of violence or recidivism if released.
CV: And beyond the data, that has been the conclusion of people who know you inside and outside prison: teachers, professors, investigators, journalists, former police officers, corrections officers still serving in the system, and psychologists whose professional experience makes them well-equipped to detect insincerity.
EPJ: Yes.
CV: As we wrap up this interview, tell me about a very special exhibit at Columbia University last year, called “Buried Alive.” How did that come about?
EPJ: The exhibit was created by Elyse Blennerhassett, a multimedia artist who was a graduate student at Columbia University at the time. I met Elyse a few years ago when I called in to a screening of the documentary film “Natural Life” in Chicago to answer audience questions. She asked me a couple questions, connected with me after the event, and later invited me to begin collaborating with her on a podcast project.
The “Buried Alive” exhibit consisted of a mock prison cell people could walk into which had my writings and photographs displayed inside. They could also hear voice recordings of me playing in surround sound—recordings Elyse compiled from the podcast project about my life, prison, and social justice issues.
Outside of the mock prison cell, visitors could watch a short 10-minute film about me and speak to me on the phone in real-time. I called in several times throughout the evening to speak to a number of people and answer their questions. A few hundred people attended the three-hour event in all and we received a lot of positive feedback.
CV: So this exhibit had its roots, if you will, in another important piece of work. What is your connection with the “Natural Life” documentary film, and what is that film about?
EPJ: “Natural Life” was produced a few years ago by filmmaker Tirtza Even—she’s also a professor at the School of Art Institute of Chicago. Approximately 350 juvenile offenders were serving life-without-parole sentences in Michigan at that time (most still are), and Tirtza wanted to focus on the injustice of any child being thrown away for the rest of her/his life, with no chance for redemption.
For the actual film, she chose five cases, three men and two women; and my case was one of them. “Natural Life” has been widely screened in art galleries and film festivals across the country and is also available for streaming on Amazon Video.
CV: And now there’s a multi-channel documentary film installation regarding your life and case. When can we expect to see that?
EPJ: The film, “Half Truths and Full Lies” was produced by filmmakers Tirtza Even, Meg McLagan, and multimedia producer Elyse Blennerhassett. It was shown at a gallery in Chicago a couple months ago, and will be displayed in Lansing, Michigan, from March 15 to April 14. The filmmakers are working to feature it at other venues and film festivals around the country as well.
The film discusses my case and the person I am today through the stories of people who lived in the community around the time my crime occurred, people involved in the case in some way, prison staff who have worked around me, and others. Information is also presented by witnesses who learned important exculpatory information about my case that was unavailable at the time of my trial thirty years ago.
Witnesses in my case, family members, a police investigator, former juror, journalist, private investigator, former school teacher, former prison staff who worked around me, attorneys, and others were all interviewed by the filmmakers; and appear in the film telling their stories in their own words.
Part 5 of this interview coming soon.
Efren Paredes, Jr. is a Michigan prisoner and subject of the new multi-channel documentary film installation, “Half Truths and Full Lies.” He is also a blogger, social justice advocate, proud father, and loving husband. You can learn more about Efren by visiting www.fb.com/Free.Efren and www.tinyurl.com/Efren1016.