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You're likely wondering why I'm not starting at the beginning for my first post. Somehow, "let's start at the very beginning", didn't seem like a very good place to start, in part, because I'm still not sure what "the beginning" really would be. These posts will not be in order of time, category, really anything other than random thoughts written out with the hope of reminding others that "pobody's nerfect" and that there is always something to learn, if you take the time to reflect and understand the lesson. Also, don't even start with critiquing my punctuation or grammar policing me, unless you're also offering to be my editor. 😅
Some people call this deep dive into an experience overanalyzing, and you guys, I'm like, really good at overanalyzing. You don't even know. Sometimes it's helpful, but sometimes it's the WORST way to be. You'll get to hear about examples of
both if you stick around, and this is part of the reason I opted for writing blog posts instead of a book. There are just too many details to gather, perspectives to consider, new things I learn daily, that I'd never be able to say, "That's it; The story is done, print it!" Btw, that gif is a joke.
OK, so, a kite is how you send an internal message while you're in the clink. In the Summit County Jail, I was in a unit with approx. 50 other women in a large, open room. Off to one side is a single combo washer/dryer, three or four toilets with no doors (One did have a mini half door so you could pretend you were a horse while you're doing your business, but it didn't lock so you had to hold it), and three or four shower stalls, also with no doors or curtains. I just did a quick search for a picture, but oddly enough, there aren't a lot of pictures posted of the inside of the jail. There is an upstairs and a downstairs and several 3 ft. concrete block partial walls. These divide the space into sections, where metal frame beds are littered, such that each bed is against a wall on at least one side. (This is significant because they don't give you this luxury when you transfer to Marysville/actual prison and you're in a bunk bed.) There's also an outdoor area that is made of brick walls all the way up, so that all you can see is the sky and an occasional free bird flying by.
The first time I was there, was after I turned myself in the second time (Sept/Oct. 2018 & the media/news had gotten ahold of the story at this point). At that time, there was not a gate around the top floor, but when I returned after sentencing (Jan. 2020), one had been installed after an apparent suicide attempt. I eventually found out that depending on capacity and circumstances, you're likely to end up on the first floor if they believe you'll be detoxing while you're there, so that you can get to the toilet/trash can "safely". There are a couple of computer kiosks where you can check your account balance, look at commissary items, review rules and policies, and send kites.
A kite can be an email. A text. A "message in a bottle" like plea for some sort of assistance. You can send them to food services, mental health services, medical assistance, etc. During my stay in 2018, I sent a message to the food services department and thanked them for their work and for making sure we were fed. They wrote back "????". I sent kites to the mental health department asking for a counselor or whatever they had available, but never heard back.
Prison has kites too, but they are cut up pieces of scrap paper set out in baskets with tiny golf pencils, scattered around the day room. In Marysville, you are sent to "admissions" for the first 30 days until you're ready to "pop out". Popping out is joining the general population and/or being transported to another facility. During admission, you attend several orientations, take a general education test, get all of your medical/vision/dental exams, and you wait. You wait for permission to use the showers, to go outside, to use the tablet they give you so you can call home, or to get on the JPay machine to send messages/receive pictures. There are wall phones that look and behave like pay phones, and there is a ridiculously detailed process for making your first call.
Once you're enrolled, every time you make a call you have to enter your ID and password and say "With Global Tel link, my voice is my password"... After a while the novelty of a voice password wears off because you have to use the same cadence from set up and sometimes the system would reject your attempt to make a call. A lady I later shared a room with, we'll call her Kelly, used to try to see what she could say and still have it go through. "With Global Tel link, my stay here is horrible! With Global Tel Link, my butt is my password. With Global Tel Link, blah bleepity bloop, password! 😆" Kelly had a couple of sugar daddies and needed to use the phone a lot.
So, let's say you get sick while you're in admissions. You haven't popped out, so you haven't had access to commissary items to buy yourself medicine; You can either ask someone around you or you can send a kite to the nurse. Your piece of paper is probably 5" x 7", so you try to scribble out something asking for an appt. or medicine because you're sick, knowing fully well that they only check the box two times a day. Two... weeks....later.... you'll get a reply in the mail call from the nurse that you are able to purchase medicine during your scheduled commissary shopping time along with a friendly suggestion to do so. 😵💫😵 (Reminder: This was late January 2020 and EVERYONE was just starting to get sick...)
My first letters home were stacks of little kite papers apologizing, describing what was going on, and playing games with my kids. I made little hangman puzzles, wrote silly jokes, wrote madlibs for them to fill in, or whatever I could think of so that when I called home, we could talk about the mail they'd received. My children had an amazing network of family and friends to support them during the 9 months I was gone and I'm forever thankful for those people... But my heart aches for those who don't have that when a parent is incarcerated or gone from their lives for extended periods of time.
If you know of someone who is incarcerated, please reach out to them
or their family. They need your text message, birthday card, or cookies you leave in the mailbox with a note to remind them that they aren't alone or forgotten. Others have gone through this before them, others will go through it after them, and sometimes a sympathetic reminder is all they need to believe they can get through their challenge, stronger than they ever knew they could be!
Note: At least in Ohio, the government websites are NOT helpful when trying to find someone through Jpay/messaging/people get moved around a lot .... The system in place is not user friendly, and if you're not already familiar with it, you have to REALLY want to reach someone. Ask someone for help, reach out to their family, take the time to write an actual letter. It's CRAZY how much a piece of mail can change your day.
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