One peculiar thing a person may notice should they ever get the chance to visit the inside of a prison…
…and meet the inmates who are confined there, is the number of scarred faces they would see. Men with ugly scars running across their cheeks or along their necks and arms caused by the blade of an enemy. While still others may have scars running across their wrists and forearms as a result of one or more self-inflicted cuttings.
And I, too, am one of these wounded individuals. I've got my own hideous scar across the left side of my neck, which runs to the top of my left shoulder. It was a wound I suffered in the late 1970s while living inside the infamous Attica prison. A fellow inmate stuck me with the sharp blade from a double-edged razor. Although the wound has long since healed, an unsightly scar remains. Today, it serves as a reminder of one of my close calls with death.
For those like myself, who live inside a correctional setting, many of us came from neighborhoods where there was a lot of poverty and crime. While some may have had backgrounds of being in a gang, as well. I was an exception to this, however, as I had a job as a postal worker when I was arrested. Either way, when it comes to us convicts, scars from past battles and injuries abound.
Many of the men I live with show the markings of having survived all kinds of mayhem and madness. They're the veterans of America's ghettos. They lived like soldiers taking punches from clenched fists, got beaten with iron pipes, have been slashed and stabbed from opponents armed with razors and knives, and took bullets from guns.
Truthfully, I cannot call any of these men heroic citizens. They fought on America's streets and in alleyways, but not against an invading alien army. In truth, they battled against competing drug dealers and members of opposing gangs. Or they duked it out with a rival who was trying to steal their girlfriend.
What else can I say? For some of us, America has been a tough place to live in. The proverbial "American Dream" became the American Nightmare. Across the United States, there are now more than 2.5 million men and women who are currently incarcerated in state and federal prisons, not counting those now confined in local and county jails.
For these street soldiers and prison warriors, there are no purple hearts to award them with. And for their
bravery both in prison and on the outside, there are no medals to be given.
So what then do they seek? In the world of prison, and in the mindset of every convict, what he wants above all else is "Respect!"
D.B.
And I, too, am one of these wounded individuals. I've got my own hideous scar across the left side of my neck, which runs to the top of my left shoulder. It was a wound I suffered in the late 1970s while living inside the infamous Attica prison. A fellow inmate stuck me with the sharp blade from a double-edged razor. Although the wound has long since healed, an unsightly scar remains. Today, it serves as a reminder of one of my close calls with death.
For those like myself, who live inside a correctional setting, many of us came from neighborhoods where there was a lot of poverty and crime. While some may have had backgrounds of being in a gang, as well. I was an exception to this, however, as I had a job as a postal worker when I was arrested. Either way, when it comes to us convicts, scars from past battles and injuries abound.
Many of the men I live with show the markings of having survived all kinds of mayhem and madness. They're the veterans of America's ghettos. They lived like soldiers taking punches from clenched fists, got beaten with iron pipes, have been slashed and stabbed from opponents armed with razors and knives, and took bullets from guns.
Truthfully, I cannot call any of these men heroic citizens. They fought on America's streets and in alleyways, but not against an invading alien army. In truth, they battled against competing drug dealers and members of opposing gangs. Or they duked it out with a rival who was trying to steal their girlfriend.
What else can I say? For some of us, America has been a tough place to live in. The proverbial "American Dream" became the American Nightmare. Across the United States, there are now more than 2.5 million men and women who are currently incarcerated in state and federal prisons, not counting those now confined in local and county jails.
For these street soldiers and prison warriors, there are no purple hearts to award them with. And for their
bravery both in prison and on the outside, there are no medals to be given.
So what then do they seek? In the world of prison, and in the mindset of every convict, what he wants above all else is "Respect!"
D.B.
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