I was concerned for Andrew because a federal statute (Title 18 of the US Code, Section 1001) criminalizes the act of providing false statements to any federal law enforcement officer. Andrew knew that he provided cash to his wife, but he provided the cash in an effort to conceal the currency from the court. If authorities were to discover that Andrew had misled them, he could face additional criminal charges. I’ve met too many people in prison who dug themselves into deeper problems because they didn’t understand the severity of the criminal justice system.

The Fifth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution may protect a citizen from self-incrimination, but it does not protect those who lie. Individuals who make the decision to speak with any law enforcement officer or submit any type of documentation to a law enforcement officer should be aware that providing misleading information could be a violation of law. When I pointed that law out to Andrew, palpable waves of anxiety suddenly washed over him as he ran his hands through his hair.

Individuals who become ensnared in the criminal justice system face a real struggle. I may be coming to the end of my time in prison, but I am preparing myself for a lifetime of close scrutiny. I anticipate interference from those who will supervise my release, and perhaps from many citizens in society. I expect to live under a microscope when I’m released, but my decades in prison have prepared me for the challenges I know I’ll face.

It would be wise for anyone coming into the criminal justice system to consider the law and to avoid making decisions that could expose them to future problems.

The post Andrew’s Potential Problem: Lies and Deception May Bring New Criminal Charges appeared first on Prison News Blog.

For readers who don’t know Stephen Covey’s work, let me begin by endorsing it wholeheartedly. Dr. Covey studied leadership as a university educator. Through his work, he discovered that successful people from all walks of life, and from all eras, held seven habits in common:

• 1) They were proactive
• 2) They began with the end in mind
• 3) They took first steps first
• 4) They sought first to understand, then to be understood
• 5) They thought win/win
• 6) They synergized
• 7) They continuously sharpened their approach

These principles became habits for me, a “second nature” or integral part of my adjustment. Because I’ve embraced the habits, I’ve opened many opportunities that have enriched my life through this long journey of imprisonment. As my work shows, I’ve frequently relied upon what I learned from Dr. Covey to help my fellow prisoners overcome the struggle of imprisonment and prepare for law-abiding lives upon release.

Now I turn to the questions Dean asked:

When did I come in contact with the seven habits?

I found this book in the library when I was locked inside the high walls of a United States Penitentiary during the late 1980s. In my early 20s at the time, I was in my early adjustment of a sentence that would keep me confined for decades. A pursuit of education helped me avoid the negative influences, and when a friend recommended the book to me, the seven habits sounded like a concept I could embrace. I read it several times, memorized parts of it, and I began relying upon it frequently in my writings and in my efforts to teach other prisoners.

How did I begin teaching the seven habits?

In the prisons where I’ve been held, administrators have allowed prisoners to submit lesson plans for courses they wanted to teach under the Adult Continuing Education program. I have modeled several courses on the seven habits. I designed the courses in a way that would allow me to teach them in 10, two-hour segments for a total of 20 classroom hours. At the completion of the course, administrators issued certificates, though I always emphasized that the real value came by internalizing the lessons. Many people returned to pass through the course for second and third times.

How did I incorporate lessons from the seven habits into my teaching?

As long-term prisoners move through their sentences, a debilitating apathy can take root. I relied upon the seven habits as an antidote, showing how those who advanced through prison with proactive adjustments could lead richer lives. The individual had to envision how he wanted to emerge from confinement. With that end-in-mind perspective, he could take first steps first. If he could understand the complexities of confinement, I explained, he could educate himself and use that education to open new opportunities. Such a strategy would keep him out of disciplinary problems and help him build a resume of accomplishments to ease his transition into society, thus everyone won by his adjustment. Prisoners who embraced these lessons found the lessons turned into personal habits, working together in synergy to guide their every step through the journey to a better life. In time, the investment each man made in his adjustment inspired him to work harder so that he could achieve more.

How many people in prison have I taught using the seven habits?

I have been in prison for 22 years, and I’ve taught structured courses since 1995. During that period I’ve taught about 50 courses, with 20 to 30 prisoners in each course. A conservative estimate would exceed 1,000 prisoners. Motivating the prisoners to participate in the courses I taught based on the seven habits helped me as much as it helped them. I lived this program and derived a sense of fulfillment in showing others how such habits could enrich their lives, assist their prison adjustments, and prepare them to emerge successfully.

Has anyone from the classes I taught been released early because of what they’ve learned?

One of the lessons I teach is to focus on and expand our sphere of influence. That means we do not think about being released early as much as we focus on preparing ourselves to enrich our lives now, despite the limitations of confinement. In federal prison we do not have access to parole or opportunities to earn freedom. Those who participate in my leadership classes learn how to embrace the seven habits in ways that empower them to thrive through the adversity of confinement, develop skills and values that will help them triumph over the obstacles that await release, and lead fulfilling lives wherever they go.

Any other ways this book may help?

I intend to rely upon lessons from the seven habits as a resource that will help me show people how to overcome every type of adversity. Many consider imprisonment as one of life’s great stress inducers. By relying upon the seven habits, however, I have led a fulfilling, productive life through 22 continuous years of incarceration. I will share these experiences upon my release through speaking, writing, teaching, and consulting.

The post How Seven Habits Change Lives appeared first on Prison News Blog.

John had been a senior executive for a global corporation. In the interests of advancing his career, John had made some decisions that turned out to violate antitrust laws. He had clung to beliefs that he was not guilty of having violated any criminal statutes, as he was only doing what his job required. When prosecutors went after John’s employer, however, senior officers in the corporation made decisions that resulted in John becoming a scapegoat.

Had John cooperated with the government attorneys from the outset, he surmised that he would have received an immunity deal that would have shielded him from criminal prosecution. Such a decision, however, would have implied that John was not on the team and resulted in his being ostracized. His career would have suffered, he said.

As a consequence of John’s having lived under the absolute assumption that he would never serve time, he did not make adequate financial preparations. For years he had earned an income in the low six figures, and John said that he had not lived beyond his means. Still, he had made financial decisions for his family based on the belief that his high income would continue.

John’s trouble with the criminal justice system had lasted for several years. In the beginning, the corporation had covered the substantial legal costs. When decisions were made to sever ties, John not only lost his income, but he simultaneously became responsible for six-figure legal fees. John did not anticipate the financial ruin problems with the criminal justice system would bring to his family.

People who are coming into the criminal justice system would be wise to learn more about the ancillary consequences. The family members often suffer much more than the prisoners once the judge imposes sentence. While John spent his time walking around the track and reading, he knew that he had burdened his wife with having to deal with foreclosure and bankruptcy on her own. He said his life was a disaster, and the sentence was much more difficult to serve as a consequence of his failure to make adequate preparations for his family.

New prisoners ought to learn from John’s anguish before they come in. I recommend they read Preparing to Self-Surrender among other other articles available through the catalog.

The post New Prisoners Should Prepare Family Before Self-Surrendering appeared first on Prison News Blog.

All new prisoners should have a clear understanding of how their behavior influences the Security Level Classifications that administrators assign to them. When I was initially arrested, in 1987, I was 23-years-old and I didn’t know anything about prison management or how administrators would classify me. I didn’t even understand the difference between jail and prison. Since then, I’ve passed more than 21 years inside these boundaries. The lessons have taught me a lot, and I’m always trying to pass them along to new prisoners so they make better decisions.

My time began inside the walls of a United States Penitentiary, where I was forced to share eating space, and shower space, with 2,500 other felons. Many of them were predatory, violent offenders. They lived by a code of values that differed in remarkable ways from the affluent, north Seattle suburb where my parents reared me. I served more than five years inside those walls, yet the choices I made resulted in the achievement of significant goals that influenced my continuing adjustment through prison.

In 1995, administrators transferred me to a series of medium- and low-security Federal Correctional Institutions. Those places may have been designated with a more euphemistic name, though they were still prisons. I did not perceive any administrative emphasis on correcting anything, though the levels of stress, volatility, and violence were appreciably lower than I experienced in the high-security penitentiary.

After more than a decade in those FCIs, administrators dropped my security-level classification to minimum, and in 2003 they transferred me to the Federal Prison Camp system. In prison camps, I’ve known a higher level of freedom than at any time since my journey as a prisoner began. Although I look forward to my release, I feel grateful for every day that I serve inside the more relaxed atmosphere of the prison camp. I’ve known much worse.

My appreciation of minimum-security and the camp environment comes as a consequence of my having endured many years in higher-security prisons. Other prisoners who self-surrender to camp sometimes take the privileges we have for granted. Rather than recognizing the low-level of stress that accompanies open movement, lack of gangs, and total absence of mass disturbances, they whine about the indignities associated with confinement.

Because I have served my entire adult life in prison, I do not dwell on what I consider to be the minor annoyances of confinement. I expect them. Strip searches do not bother me. Special census counts mean nothing. The loss of privileges is a fact of life I can handle. What I don’t want is to return to environments where I have to walk through puddles of blood, where I hear the cries of violent gang rapes, where I see regular abuse of force. I know such environments are only a bus ride away.

The post New Prisoners Ought to Understand Security Level Classifications appeared first on Prison News Blog.

The rules in every prison where I’ve been confined for the past 21-plus years specifically stated that prisoners were allowed to hug and kiss their visitors briefly at the beginning of each visit and again at the end of each visit. Most lower-security prisons allowed prisoners to hold the hands of their adult visitors during the visit; in medium-security and high-security prisons the rules were stricter and did not allow hand holding or any physical contact once the visitors sat. Guards were sometimes more tolerant of prisoners who wanted to hold their small children during a visit.

In a few articles such as Visiting at FPC Florence, Lompoc Visiting, and Better Visits with Mom, I’ve described my experiences with visiting in several prisons. Regardless of which prison in which I’ve been confined, prisoners would test the boundaries. That was understandable to me, as I know what it was like to long for the loving touch of my wife. Yet I also knew the severe consequences of violating prison visiting room rules.

Obviously, the guards enforced the rules much more stringently in higher-security prisons. In those types of facilities, surveillance cameras recorded every action. Guards stationed in off-site locations monitored the prisoners, and disciplined those who were caught trying to kiss or tough their visitors during the visit. Sanctions frequently included loss of visiting and telephone privileges for months or years.

In minimum-security camps, the officers were less obtrusive. Some officers were permissive in allowing prisoners to embrace their wives a few times during the visit, or even hold their arms around them on occasion. Other officers were by-the-book, but camps were certainly more relaxed than higher-security prisons.

Those who recently transferred to minimum-security camps, however, sometimes misunderstood the relaxed atmosphere. They misperceived the friendliness of staff and openness of the facility as an invitation or free pass to grope, fondle, or relax their inhibitions in expressing affection for their wives. If they were caught, however, they would deeply regret their indiscretion.

I’ve known several prisoners who have been cited with violating the rules of visiting rooms. Generally, for those in minimum-security camps, sanction for violating physical contact rules include transfer to higher-security prisons across state lines, a period of time in segregation, loss of visiting, telephone, and commissary privileges.

Certainly, I understand the temptation to hold or kiss my wife longer. Yet I know the pain we both would feel if guards sanctioned me with a loss of contact. My wife is protective of our visiting privileges. She loathes the prison system that keeps me from her, but she is determined to follow all rules to the letter in order to assure that we always have access to each other.

I advise new prisoners to understand all the rules and practices of their institutions. They may choose how they want to adjust, yet they should also know that their loved ones pay consequences, too, when guards impose disciplinary sanctions.

The post Watch For Prison Visiting Rules appeared first on Prison News Blog.

I say con artist, I’m not talking about the men who led Ponzi schemes or who were convicted of the various fraud statutes. Those types of white collar offenders filled federal prison camps like Taft. Many were nice, well-educated people who made some bad decisions. I’m sure that some did not set out to defraud anyone deliberately, but financial reversals and personal pressures pulled their sense of discretion and judgment asunder. Those types of men lived with shame and humility; they served their sentences unobtrusively.

The con artists that I suggest avoiding live more flamboyantly. They speak loudly, always bragging about daring exploits. Such men regularly misrepresent their backgrounds and experiences with elaborate enhancements. They fabricate stories that link them with high-profile personalities and celebrities. I came to refer to all such loud-mouth prisoners as Roman Fabrizis.

I advise new prisoners to watch out for the Roman Fabrizis in their institutions. It doesn’t matter where the new prisoner requests to serve his time, he is bound to encounter at least a few Roman Fabrizi types just as surely as he will encounter prison rules.

In higher-security prisons, I knew many men who lived the Roman Fabrizi swagger. They told tales about having led massive criminal organizations, or about adventurous capers they orchestrated. One Roman Fabrizi liked to describe how he broke into an airplane hangar to steal a Cessna. He said that he flew to Columbia, struck a deal with a cartel, and packed his plane with cocaine. He went on to describe how he flew across Mexico and into the canyons of Arizona, beneath the radar to avoid detection by authorities, landed in darkness on the packed sand of a desert road, met his crew of accomplices who helped unload the cocaine, and made millions in the scheme.

Other prisoners, most without teeth, listened in awe as Roman described the money he scammed and the hundreds of women he bedded. To those locked inside prison walls, Roman could spin yarns that were more exciting than any action film. His facade crumbled, however, when a former naval pilot who was serving time for smuggling began puncturing holes in his story with questions about aviation that Roman could not answer.

In minimum-security camps where I served time, the Roman Fabrizi characters I met told tales of a different order, but they were no less fantastic. Although the men couldn’t afford to purchase simple commissary items, they liked to describe the prestigious universities from which the supposedly graduated, and the billion-dollar business deals they had put together. While deliberating over whether they would live in Beverly Hills or Bel Air, about whether they would purchase the newest Bentley or Rolls upon release, they asked others to lend them a package of coffee until their money order came in.

New prisoners shouldn’t have any trouble identifying the Roman Fabrizis in prison, and they will ease their time inside by avoiding them.

The post Beware of Roman Frabrizi in Prison appeared first on Prison News Blog.

As a long-term prisoner, I strive to provide as much information as possible to those who consider the providing of such information my duty as an American citizen and as a man who has lived in prison for longer than 21 years. I have seen too many people come into these subcultures and adjust poorly. Those who make bad decisions often inadvertently, conclude their sentences no better than when they began.

As a prisoner, I do not have direct access to the internet, computers, or even typewriters. I must rely on others to publish my work. That is the reason costs are involved. Yet through the articles available, I provide a depth and breadth of information that will help others understand the prison system in its entirety, and understand how to thrive through the adversity. Those articles explain about self surrendering as well as offer strategies on how to adjust effectively by following what I called a quadrant theory of adjustment.

With regard to Matt’s question on how I maintain an Internet presence while serving a federal prison term, the answer is simple. I work. As I document through my daily journal entries, I follow Benjamin Franklin’s advice of early to bed and early to rise; he demonstrated that such a strategy made a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. By sleeping before 7:00 each evening I’m able to wake and begin working before 4:00 each morning.

Since I have access to pen and paper only, I write by longhand. I send my work home and my wife transcribes my work into a digital file, then loads the article onto the web. This is a family affair and an integral part of my preparations for success upon release. It requires discipline, though the payoff is that it helps me stay focused, motivated, and grateful to be building a stronger network of support while I contribute to the lives of others.

I find writing therapeutic. It allows me to find peace in solitude and it keeps me sane. Should Matt want to document his experience, or should any other prisoners want to contribute, my wife can provide access to our blog for guest contributors. I encourage such contributions, as I strive to help others understand prisons, the people they hold, and strategies for growing through confinement.

Understanding the challenges ahead, however, will prove extraordinarily helpful to all who are about to enter confinement. That knowledge will help individuals make better decisions, avoid conflict, and emerge stronger than when they began.

I wish Matt and others good luck on the journey.

The post Matt Reports To Marion Prison Camp appeared first on Prison News Blog.

My wife, Carole, periodically checks the article and prints comments that readers have posted. Since prison rules prohibit my direct access to the Internet, Carole sends copies of the reader comments for me to review.

In November, a reader who identified himself as Nisanjael, wrote that he worked in a federal prison and that he “learned one very important thing… Unfortunately, the majority of inmates I have seen these past 18 years are not ready to make positive changes.”

Nisanjael’s statement classically represents the view of those who set the policies in these caged communities. Administrators of the Federal Bureau of Prisons like to call their staff members correctional officers. Yet they set policies that create infrastructures where failure proliferates. Ironically, the entire industry of “corrections” operates under the mistaken assumption that the majority of those in prison “are not ready to make positive changes.”

To accept the premise that the federal officer Nisanjael asserts, readers must believe that the majority of people in prison want to live as society’s outcasts. Rather than evaluate the consequences that come with policies that extinguish hope–policies that are quick to punish bad behavior but resist rewarding good behavior–prison administrators cling to ridiculous assertions that prisoners embrace failure.

I suppose such positions make it easier for those who preside over these institutions to shun responsibility for the high-recidivism rates that our nation’s prison system perpetuates. “Don’t blame correctional policy for our revolving-door prisons,” prison employees like Nisanjael claim. “It’s not the fault of corrections. Most prisoners are not ready to make positive changes.”

Correctional officers like Nisanjael refuse to acknowledge that prisons condition failure. Instead of encouraging those locked inside boundaries to reconcile with society and to prepare for the challenges that will follow confinement, prison policies brilliantly rip the will out of individuals by reducing each man to sameness.

Classification policies do not offer mechanisms through which prisoners can distinguish themselves in positive ways. Neither academic accomplishment, publishing credentials, pursuit of job skills, building strong networks of support in society, nor maintaining clean disciplinary conduct play any role in advancing a prisoner’s status. All that matters to those in corrections is the turning of calendar pages and the crime for which the offender stands convicted. Exposing prisoners to such policies for years or decades while everything in his world crumbles invites defiance rather than encourages redemption.

I have been a prisoner since 1987, and I expect to remain a prisoner for several years to come. Over the 21-plus years that I have served thus far, I have lived in the midst and under the control of numerous federal prison employees who hold the same perspectives as Nisanjael. When they encounter me, they express shock and surprise that I have been incarcerated for so long. They wonder what happened. After so much time, correctional officers expect prisons to crush the human spirit. Rather than applaud, celebrate, encourage, or reward positive adjustment, they wonder what went wrong.

Like all human beings, prisoners want to advance their lives. Of course they want positive change. They want to build closer ties to their families. They want to bring meaning to their lives. They want to feel as if they can earn freedom through merit, or that they can somehow reconcile with society. Prisoners want what all Americans want. They aspire to something more; they want to live as one with society.

Yet the corrections system I have known for virtually all of my adult live cultivates these factories that breed failure by extinguishing hope, by ripping away each prisoner’s sense of efficacy. Prisons block individuals from access to meaningful education or job training; they erect barriers to disrupt ties to family and community; they enforce policies and a culture to preserve the sanctity of institutions rather than the promise of redemption.

In Transcending the Wall, I wrote about the ways that mentors helped me overcome the attitudes of federal prison employees like Nisanjael. Those societal leaders who generously invested their time with me understood that encouragement and guidance were far more effective motivators for positive change than tight controls and a steel boot to the head.

The post Motivating Prisoners to Make Positive Changes appeared first on Prison News Blog.

In my article Security Level Classifications, I described the criteria that administrators use when classifying inmates. Essentially, an inmate who does not have a history of violence or gang affiliation, and who is within ten years of his release date, is eligible for camp placement–provided the inmate does not have any history of escape attempts. The articles available in the catalog offer considerable amounts of information about the differences between prisons, as well as strategies to ensure that an individual serves his time in the prison of the lowest possible security level.

If Tina’s fiance received a ten-year sentence, current law would require that he serve approximately eight years and two months before he would be sent to complete six-months in a halfway house. If the inmate completed the 500-hour drug program, he could be released one year sooner. As I describe in various posts here, however, I expect that with President Obama and the new Congress, we will see prison reform that brings opportunities for nonviolent offenders to earn their release through merit.

For further questions about the prison system, please leave a comment or send a new question.

The post Can Tina’s Fiance Serve his Ten-Year Sentence in a Camp? appeared first on Prison News Blog.

In my article Comparisons of Three Federal Prison Camps within The Bureau of Prisons, I described three separate prison camps where I have served time. Those camps include the camp at Florence, the camp at Lompoc, and the camp at Taft. There were significant differences between each. Yet if an individual adjusts well, he can succeed in either of the camps.

With regard to Eric’s question about judicial requests for specific camp placement, I do think the Bureau of Prisons takes a judicial recommendation into consideration. Yet the BOP is crowded, and sometimes administrators cannot accommodate the court by assigning an inmate to a specific camp. Yet the BOP has a policy of trying to keep offenders in camps that are closest to the individual’s recorded residence. I think the defendant should learn as much as possible about the various prison camps, and then he should certainly ask the judge to make a recommendation. In my experience of speaking with other prisoners, the BOP grants the judge’s request better than eight out of ten times, provided the security level is appropriate.

The key point to remember is that more than the specific camp, it is the security level that makes all the difference. Inmates in a camp, generally, are less volatile than inmates in higher security prisons. That is an excellent reason to pursue camp placement. For more information on prisons and the people they hold, I urge readers to check out the articles catalog and the daily content I provide at www.prisonnewsblog.com.

The post Should Prisoners Request Specific Prison Camp Placements? appeared first on Prison News Blog.