According to a recent Reuters news item, the country of Brazil is offering a novel way for prisoners to shorten their sentences: read a book!

Inmates in 4 federal prisons can read up to 12 works of literature, classics, science, or philosophy, and shorten their incarceration by 4 days per book, up to a maximum of 48 days off their sentences.

The program, which is called “Redemption through Reading,” requires the inmates to read the book within 4 weeks, and to write an essay that meets certain standards. A special panel will decide which prisoners are eligible to participate.

Somehow I doubt that this program will be adopted here in these United States of America anytime in the not-too-distant future! But why not?

Joyce Hanna

Joyce Hanna, Library Associate at Airway Heights Corrections Center, received a phone call from an inmate’s mother this week thanking her for helping her son. She did not give his name because he is still at AHCC and she did not want to cause any problems for him. Joyce reports that “I explained that I was only doing my job and she told me that her son said that I did it with kindness and care which he does not get a lot of in prison. It brought tears to my eyes. I thanked her.”

Joyce says that it is moments like this that make everything she goes through worth it. She realizes that even the small things can be important in prison.

Librarians at Coyote Ridge Corrections Center, Washington Corrections Center Shelton, and Washington State Penitentiary, have started using kiosks at their local institutions to send overdue notices and hold pickup notices to offenders. We are also answering questions submitted by offenders.  The result has been even better than expected!  At Coyote Ridge, we have drastically reduced our paper usage by sending the notices over the kiosk.  The new system is a win-win for staff and offenders alike; correctional officers don’t have to distribute the paper notices to individual offenders, and offenders get their notices instantly. Quicker delivery of notices may even shorten the time that high demand items will sit on the hold shelf, waiting to be retrieved.

 I have also noticed a growing volume of “electronic mail” (kiosk version) that we are receiving from offenders, now that they realize they can send messages to the library’s electronic mailbox.  I’ve received countless messages that simply thank us for our services, and some that make suggestions for improvement or ask us to purchase their favorite books and music.  They also ask questions about library policies and ask us to check their accounts for overdue items, and attempt to resolve item return issues over the kiosk. 

The beauty of this new system is, to me, three-fold: 1) offenders are learning how to communicate effectively in an electronic world, a skill that is critical for successful re-entry, 2) conflict resolution is handled in writing, rather than face-to-face, which may encourage both parties to think about what they say before they say it, and 3) both offenders and staff are able to communicate in a much more efficient and organized way.  I can send messages to multiple offenders at once, and I can send them instantly rather than waiting 1-4 days for mail delivery and response time.  I can also answer questions in batches, rather than responding immediately every time someone has a question the library clerks can’t answer, and without asking offenders to wait in line at the counter to talk to a staff person. I can’t help but think this is the prison equivalent of virtual reference, and that is exciting!

Time

What is time?  It can be a short time, a long time, an easy time, or a hard time, but for an inmate it can also be a slow time.  Time seems to pass slower in prison, for many a day can seem like a week or a month.  Years don’t fly by in prison, they crawl and it can truly feel like an eternity.  Books help the time pass and let you forget where you are for a while.

At first glance, this post may seem to have nothing to do with prison librarianship. The rural, conservative, and isolated location of most prisons is something people outside the profession may not always think about.  Most jails, and a few of the smaller or minimum security prisons are located in or near bigger cities, but most of the bigger, higher security facilities are logically placed away from large communities.

For anyone who imagines living close to public transit, giving up their car, walking to the grocery store, spending their evenings at a local music venue or hip little bar…know that these are just daydreams for most prison librarians! My current life is based in Connell, WA. The population is approximately 3190, and the primary industries are food processing, agricultural chemicals, and incarceration of convicted felons.

As I drove in to work this morning, I saw a coyote running through the grass along the outer perimeter of the property. This is summer, and the sun has already been up for three hours before I arrive at 8:00 am. It’s hot and it’s going to get hotter. It’s dusty and nothing breaks the wind up here on the hill. There is another coyote painted on a sign at the main entrance (I work at the Coyote Ridge Corrections Center), where large sign is also posted to inform visitors that this is a prison, and certain items are not allowed on grounds (weapons, etc.). If the surrounding landscape seems dull, wait until you go inside the prison. Sometimes I’m astounded by the idea of a vibrant intellectual center located inside a place that seems so cold and hostile from the outside. Fences and barbed wire surround the buildings, and once you go inside, the only green you see are small weeds that have sprouted up in the rock, which is raked into neat, flat circles on a regular basis by the inmates who live here. Everywhere you look, there is only gray. The walls, sidewalks, and lawns of rock are all gray, and there is only a gray reflection on tiny windows in the housing units. One of the inmates here tells me there was a fire drill one night, and he got to go outside. “It was so cool because I got to see the stars,” he said.

I think the institution is even more striking in darkness. From the highway, all you see are the stars above, and the yard lights on tall poles and a set of buildings set in a rough circular formation. It is like a miniature metropolis plopped down in the middle of eastern Washington’s agricultural landscape. For miles and miles, there is nothing but fields and tractors and windmills. And then you see this prison, and it kind of makes you think. About what, I’m not sure. But it definitely makes you think.