Books and magazines aren’t how drugs get into Missouri prisons. The guards, though … | Opinion
On Aug. 30 in the Missouri Prison Reform September newsletter, I read the news that the Missouri Department of Corrections is banning reading materials sent to prisoners from friends and family. This ban includes books, magazines, correspondence courses and religious materials. If we want these things, we must pay for them from our inmate account through “approved” vendors of the prison’s choosing. I’ve heard this goes into effect Sept. 25, but thus far our wardens remain silent.
We have absolutely no notification as to how this will go down — if our current magazine subscriptions must be curtailed, or even if magazines and Bible studies that arrive here will be destroyed.
Rumor has it that this has come down the pike because of drugs in our prisons. The cold hard fact is that most drugs come into prisons via staff. For many, it’s a lucrative side hustle to bolster their paltry state paychecks. We prisoners, even those of us who don’t use, hear which staff members are mules, and we all know the minute an officer or other staff member is escorted off the premises and into the handcuffs of law enforcement. A prison is a small town, and news travels fast.
Just earlier this year, an officer at South Central Correctional Center in Licking was charged with a Class D felony for delivery or possession of a controlled substance. And she’s far from the only one in similar circumstances. Others have been arrested and charged on comparable offenses.
During our two-year COVID-19 lockdown when no church people, vendors, teachers or visitors were allowed within the razor wire fences, a record number of “dirties” was logged. If only prison and medical staff were around prisoners, where did all the drugs come from? The Department of Corrections doesn’t want to admit that its own personnel can be criminals, too.
Publishers, schools don’t mail free contraband
For many years, thanks to the generosity of friends, I’ve received The Sun, a lovely literary magazine. I guarantee that the people who print this periodical in a factory someplace are not soaking my particular issue with drugs. And if someone really believes that The Sun is drug infested, what difference will it make if someone on the outside pays for the subscription or if I do? Where’s the logic in this ban?
My daughter Carrie sends me a news magazine called The Week. This is another fantastic publication, a window to the world, with current news about politics, literature, pop culture, entertainment, science and music. When the evening officer hands me my weekly copy, the first thing I do is launch into the crossword puzzle. Does anyone actually think the publisher and printing house are filling the pages with some sort of contraband? These business people couldn’t have the slightest idea who paid for the subscription — me or the devil.
I’ve taken lots of correspondence courses — some I’ve paid for and some thanks to the generosity of a friend. Again, schools aren’t in the habit of sending free drugs. The Athletics and Fitness Association of America is not trying to get me high. It just wants its money. It’s a business.
This summer, The Massachusetts Review printed “Russian Dolls,” a poem I wrote after a visit with my granddaughter Callie. Editor Jim Hicks sent me a free copy. In fact, he mails me a new issue every time it comes out. Soon, he won’t be able to do this, even though neither he nor any other publisher is contaminating periodicals.
This is not a ban on drugs. This is about further penal punishment. I am not only denied physical freedom, but now I’m denied freedom of education, freedom of religion and freedom of information. This ban leaves Missouri prisoners with only the right to remain silent — a right I refuse to exercise.
Patty Prewitt, 73, is incarcerated in Missouri’s Women’s Eastern Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center in Vandalia. . Her work has recently appeared in The Massachusetts Review, among other publications. In 2006, she was awarded first place in a PEN American Center writing contest.
