Letters From Prison

Entry #2 – “On Prison Economies”

I believe that we tend to think of jails and prisons as very masculine places, as “every man for himself,” rough and tumble, violent, and dangerous nooks away from society, inhabited primarily by the type of people who would create, thrive in, enjoy, and (perhaps most importantly) deserve such an environment.  I expect that we apply the same lens to women’s prisons as well.  They may be inhabited by women, but we certainly don’t view them as feminine places, nor do we necessarily think of incarcerated women (when we think of them at all) in feminine terms.  We instead think of them as similar to their male counterparts.  Less prone to violence and rape and more prone to homosexuality, perhaps, but ultimately more or less the same.

Given my own experiences, I’ll focus on men’s prisons for the remainder of this entry.  While our view of prisons is largely correct – prisons are rough and tumble, violent, and dangerous places – the fact of the matter is that incarceration is an extremely emasculating experience, for a variety of reasons.  I’ll explore what I find to be the three major sources of emasculation here.

The first source of emasculation is economic in nature.  If I may engage in some stereotyping, I believe that men in general have a strong urge to earn their keep and to provide for themselves and the people they see as depending upon them.  The majority of men (and I expect it is a large majority) do not want to live life as a “bum,” they would much rather work to provide for themselves and their dependents than to have their needs provided for them.

Prison strips a man of his ability to fulfill this drive.  Inmates are completely taken care of, their food, clothing, housing, and indeed all of their needs are provided for them.  A man in prison cannot “earn” in any meaningful way or otherwise provide for himself without engaging in the prison economy.  In fact, I believe that this drive to earn and to provide is a major driving factor behind the prison economy in the first place.  Men want to engage in an economy, to earn and to trade, and they will do so with the goods and services they have at hand, legal or otherwise.  The lack of ability to fulfill this drive emasculates a man, and pushes him to regain his sense of masculinity by participating in the prison economy.    

The second source of emasculation in prison is the inability to have a healthy or normal sex life.  I cannot speak to the experience of homosexual inmates, but I can state that for heterosexual inmates, sexual stimulation in prisons is relatively rare, as the only women that men see are COs, some volunteers, or on television.  Despite this lack of healthy outlets and appropriate stimulation (I maintain that sexualizing female COs or volunteers is inappropriate, though it is probably also unavoidable), men continue to have sexual desires and needs, and they seek out ways to fulfill those needs.  Masturbation is common, though it generally occurs quickly and in private, at least when privacy is available.  Homosexuality of course exists, both in the form of ongoing “relationships” and more sporadic sexual acts, though individuals will almost always seek to keep homosexuality and homosexual acts a secret, as prison culture is not kind to those it views as gay. Prison rape, while perhaps not the widespread phenomenon that society thinks it to be, undoubtedly occurs, as do other non-consensual sexual acts, such as spying on a fellow inmate in the shower, masturbating while looking at another inmate, or masturbating in public.  I would argue that with the possible exception of normal masturbation (i.e. masturbation to appropriate and healthy fantasies conducted in private) these behaviors are not sexual outlets at all, but rather expressions of power that allow one to rebel against the emasculation inherent to incarceration.       

The third source of emasculation is prison’s direct effect on one’s sense of manhood.  In my experience, men in prison hold notions of manhood and masculinity in very high regard.  For reasons related to personal safety, no inmate wants to be seen as meek, weak, or afraid.  Men will vocally and loudly proclaim their manhood, by insisting that they are grown or otherwise marking themselves as different from weaker men or boys.  Manhood is often performative, shown in anger, aggression and in displays of strength or force.  Less traditional forms of manhood, such as the concept of being “man enough” to let one’s emotions show, while not unheard of, are relatively rare, and are at times pejoratively linked with homosexuality.   

Yet looked at objectively and with some kindness, it’s clear that incarcerated men are both victimizers and victims.  Prisons are designed and allowed to be brutal, violent institutions that by nature victimize their residents, no matter how manly these residents think themselves to be.  To illustrate using my own experience, I was incarcerated for only a year, suffered no physical violence during that time, and had only one moderately unpleasant encounter with another inmate that never escalated beyond shouted words and I was still diagnosed with PTSD shortly after my release.  I experienced and at times continue to experience bouts of anger ( that at times have very nearly resulted in physical violence), paranoia, sleep problems, and social anxiety, and my prison experience was about as easy as they come.  I am one of the lucky ones.  And if I am lucky, what of the unlucky ones?  What of those who did 20 years or more?  What of those who, unable to defend themselves, were regularly beaten and robbed?  What of the men who committed violence not because they wanted to or enjoyed it, but because they saw no other way to get by?  What of the survivors of rape?  My nightmares, which still come five-and-a-half years on, are of loneliness and isolation and being forgotten.  What are theirs like?

No amount of manliness can stand up to that brutality.  No version of masculinity can maintain an un-warped sense of self in that environment.  And that, I think, is why prisoners embrace the traditional, performative, and raw version of manhood that they often do; because it is the only version of manhood that allows one to feel some semblance of safety in an environment that is inherently unsafe.  If a man is “man enough” to dominate those around him, he can convince himself that he need not be afraid.  If a man is “grown” he can pretend that he is not subject to fears that return him to boyhood, jumping at shadows and peeking around half-open doors.  But the fact remains, no matter how “manly” or masculine an incarcerated man is, he is still afraid, all of the time, and there is nothing he can do to make himself feel safe.

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