In the correctional setting where I have now lived in for more than forty years, one's social status and his position in the so-called "pecking order," means everything...
Because one's place, in this unofficial but very visible level of status amongst his peers, will determine how you will be treated. Such as, if you will be given a hard time, or if you will get treated well.
One's position in a prison's social strata will allow you to get respect, and be accepted as an equal, or it will mean being mistreated, bullied, and shunned. Everything hinges on how you are seen in the eyes of your fellow cons. In here you will be observed, and you will be tested. Prison is a society without secrets.
I don't think the public is truly aware of this, and neither are the courts. Prison is a very stressful environment for a number of reasons. Some of which are obvious, like being locked up with potentially violent individuals. But some are not so obvious, such as what I am writing about now. This being one's social standing and how it affects how your fellow prisoners as well as the staff will deal with you, be it good or bad.
Actually, prison is a society where its residents are not viewed as equals. It's a system of inequality, and it prides itself as such. This is obvious by the contempt shown to those who are in for sex crimes or for hurting children. While others are admired for their crimes, which many convicted felons traditionally give approval to. Crimes such as getting into a shootout with police, murdering someone who may have double-crossed you, or perhaps offered resistance when you tried to rob them, are all considered to be okay. The same for crimes such as burglary, drug sales, or assault.
As for myself, because I have a "high profile" case, at the start of my prison sentence I cannot say where I was within the social hierarchy. But like all the newcomers, I was tested. While I never looked for trouble, it found me. One man, some forty years ago, even tried to kill me. He almost did. But because I refused to "snitch" on him, my status within the prison was elevated considerably.
Strange how things managed to work out. Things one would think of as bad, ended up working in my favor. Looking back, I will state with certainty, that this was the hand of God. He was watching out for me even when, at the time, I was living with no thought of Him. In fact, I was still following the devil. I had a handful of books on the occult and witchcraft, and I was doing dark rituals in my cell, to include trying to put curses on people.
I hated Jesus, and I had contempt for Christians. I was an angry and bitter young man. But in spite of this, the Lord was making a way for me to come to Him. It took a decade of incarceration, but the day of my surrender came at last. On a cold winter's night, now more than thirty years ago, I got on my knees on the floor of my cell, and quietly asked Jesus to forgive me of all my sins and come into my heart.
The day I received Jesus Christ as my Savior, and made him Lord of my life, is the day I was set free from the burden of having to maintain my social standing within the hierarchy of the prison community. Today, I no longer feel the need to prove anything to anyone. I am respected. My peers accept me as I am. God, I believe, made this possible.
D.B.
One's position in a prison's social strata will allow you to get respect, and be accepted as an equal, or it will mean being mistreated, bullied, and shunned. Everything hinges on how you are seen in the eyes of your fellow cons. In here you will be observed, and you will be tested. Prison is a society without secrets.
I don't think the public is truly aware of this, and neither are the courts. Prison is a very stressful environment for a number of reasons. Some of which are obvious, like being locked up with potentially violent individuals. But some are not so obvious, such as what I am writing about now. This being one's social standing and how it affects how your fellow prisoners as well as the staff will deal with you, be it good or bad.
Actually, prison is a society where its residents are not viewed as equals. It's a system of inequality, and it prides itself as such. This is obvious by the contempt shown to those who are in for sex crimes or for hurting children. While others are admired for their crimes, which many convicted felons traditionally give approval to. Crimes such as getting into a shootout with police, murdering someone who may have double-crossed you, or perhaps offered resistance when you tried to rob them, are all considered to be okay. The same for crimes such as burglary, drug sales, or assault.
As for myself, because I have a "high profile" case, at the start of my prison sentence I cannot say where I was within the social hierarchy. But like all the newcomers, I was tested. While I never looked for trouble, it found me. One man, some forty years ago, even tried to kill me. He almost did. But because I refused to "snitch" on him, my status within the prison was elevated considerably.
Strange how things managed to work out. Things one would think of as bad, ended up working in my favor. Looking back, I will state with certainty, that this was the hand of God. He was watching out for me even when, at the time, I was living with no thought of Him. In fact, I was still following the devil. I had a handful of books on the occult and witchcraft, and I was doing dark rituals in my cell, to include trying to put curses on people.
I hated Jesus, and I had contempt for Christians. I was an angry and bitter young man. But in spite of this, the Lord was making a way for me to come to Him. It took a decade of incarceration, but the day of my surrender came at last. On a cold winter's night, now more than thirty years ago, I got on my knees on the floor of my cell, and quietly asked Jesus to forgive me of all my sins and come into my heart.
The day I received Jesus Christ as my Savior, and made him Lord of my life, is the day I was set free from the burden of having to maintain my social standing within the hierarchy of the prison community. Today, I no longer feel the need to prove anything to anyone. I am respected. My peers accept me as I am. God, I believe, made this possible.
D.B.
