I've told you that I have been in jail. I've been to prison too, but that's not what this blog is about. I want to enlighten you about being in jail; just a bit. I can't tell you what it's really like to be in jail, because I always had help. All the real sex and reveling that went on was curbed most of the time. Sometimes when Deps came down who were use to working the pods, they were shocked at how calm it was. Once, I even witnessed a female Dep call an inmate over and actually ask her what was going on? She walked passed my cell in astonishment. I just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. So I don't know the real deal, not all of it. What everyone was on their best behavior not to show, some people just couldn't help themselves. It's like a reality show. People know what they are about to do will be caught on tape, but they can't help themselves, and who they are just can't help but come shining through.
Sometimes we just lose our way. We can see the cameras and the people watching us, and we know what we are doing is wrong, but we do it anyway. That's true with the police, too. They are just as human as we are. They have families and lives outside the job that can cause them to be in a bad mood. Now a good cop wouldn't let the argument with his wife impede an investigation or a drug bust or a traffic stop. But we all know that takes a strong person to separate those feelings from that of "the job". So some people get fines, fist and harassed, because a cops wife or girlfriend had disrupted his day. Somebody with a big mouth could easily find themselves in the midst of a case of police brutality.
In Redford last week, a woman filed a lawsuit against the police that she claimed had beat her up in a holding cell. The woman was beaten pretty bad by the officers. She said she was calling for them to get her medication. I know she was waiting forever, because you are nothing to those people. They have no reason to run and get you anything. Even if there was a legitimate reason for them to not give you your medication; they will never tell you. They feel that they don't owe you anything. They are busy doing other things, and they don't need to explain anything to you. You are nothing to them, but a low criminal. The ones who treat you like that are usually crooked and no good cops themselves, and are probably guilty of more crimes than you are.
This woman's obvious over the top abuse is proof of that. I was beat by Oakland County Sheriffs, and thrown in a cell. It was about five of them that took me by the arm and legs and grabbed me under my chin, while preventing me from resisting. The only Indian (from Asia) Dep there by the name of Shaman was asking me to move to another cell. A young woman in the cell I was living in said she, "didn't feel safe" in the cell with me. I was rather relieved, because it was winter and the jail was full with women who needed a place to go from the cold. In the pod I was living in, the "reception" pod. the place you stayed until all your paperwork was done, before moving into a permanent pod. Back then you stayed there until they made room for you. So I was stuck in a room with two other women. Two of us had a bunk and the other woman had a mattress on the floor. Seeing that I was on my period, I was really uncomfortable. Not only did I not have to change my pad, have a bowel movement and wash-up in front of one woman, but two.
That goes back to there not being a lot of concern for you and your privacy or well being. They throw women in cells with one another like dogs. I think dogs in a kennel have their own space. These cells are the standard 9x12. With the space for the bed, toilet, desk and a tiny locker (that doesn't work) their is less than a two feet space to walk. In the remaining 15 square feet the third woman has her mattress on the floor. So maybe I was a little cranky, the woman beneath me was musky, the girl on the floor was whining and crying and talking about her troubles far more than I wanted to hear. Plus, I wanted to go home! So when she made a smart remark, I simply told her off. I think I had some kind of cabin fever.
Anyway, I was called on the intercom and told to go out to the their station. I was told that I was moving, and to take a seat around the corner. When Shaman came to get me he just pointed his fingers towards MAX and said, "Let's go!" I looked at him calmly and said, "I'm not going anywhere without my stuff". He said, "What stuff?" I said, "My bras, pantie and Bible" He replied, "That's not your stuff. Where'd you get that stuff?" I said, "I brought it from prison." Oh, well you can't have it, your not suppose to have that. Let's go!" I stayed calm and didn't move, and restated my original stance, "I'm not leaving without my stuff." He pointed again and I sat there, and asked to speak to a supervisor. He ignored me and kept pointing and telling me to move. Now, I'm not sure if I was suppose to move, but I'm sure I'm supposed to do what I'm told. Only I had a brand new bra and panties up in that cell. I don't have to tell you the value of those things in a jail market.
The reason why I had doubled up was because in jail you don't get a fresh pair of underwear. You have to buy them, and if you don't have anyone sending you money, you don't get clean underwear. If you are cool with one of the female Deps with the knowledge of where they are, you might get another pair f you can prove you are on your period. Mostly all you can get a Dep to get you is a tampon and if it's a male Dep he usually would bring a handful, not to have to do it again that shift. So I wasn't leaving without my stuff that was so crucial to my personal hygiene. It was bad enough you only got a clean uniform once a week. Most woman off the street just didn't wear underwear, but I wasn't familiar with those kinds of practices. So before I left the prison I doubled up on bras and tripled up on panties and wore one of my long john shirts in order to keep warm. It should come as no surprise that when Patterson wants to save on his heating bill he comes for the inmates first. The last time I was there in the summer of '09, they weren't even serving milk for breakfast. I almost fell out when I was handed virtually sugarless kool-ail with my oatmeal and slice of white bread.
So it becomes your job as an inmate to survive. When Shaman wanted to end my hustle by making me leave my things when I knew where they were; I couldn't do it! So on my last demand for a supervisor, he grabbed my right arm and twisted it behind my back. He pushed me down the hall and toward the door to the disciplinary pod. His grip was light, but when the door of the pod was opened and he pushed me through it, my arm hit the side of the door. It had brazed the locks and felt like a chunk of my arm was gone. I don't know if you have ever had that sensation, but it hurt and I thought I felt blood gushing down my arm. I broke free from his grip and looked at my arm. It was scratched, but the skin wasn't broken. Shaman turned and me around and got in my face. "Stop resisting!" I got in his face and yelled back, "Don't push me into doors and I won't have to resist!" Seeing that he had once again lost control the a situation, he began to scream at the top of his lungs and push me against the wall, twisting my arm and holding me against the glass window. "Stop resisting! Stop resisting me!" Before I knew it, the door locked clicked and there was at least five Oakland County Sheriff Deputy on me at once. They had my arms and my neck in such a tight grip, I thought I would choke to death. All I could do was walk forward, because the grip on my neck wouldn't allow me to do anything else.
One Dep asked Shaman what cell to put me in. He said, "I was going to put her in two, but fuck her! Put her ass in that one." They opened the door to what we call a bam-bam cell. It had nothing in it, but a concrete slab. All the walls were white and everything was concrete. A man put his knee in my back, maneuvered me to the floor, while two other men held my arms. The man with his knee in my back was also the man with his hand around my throat. This was insurance that I didn't know who had jumped on me. When I twisted my neck to see who they were, they moved out of sight and the man with his hands around my neck tightened his grip. I felt as if I would pass out at any moment the way he held my neck so I wouldn't be able to identify them. When I looked straight ahead his grip tightened. At one point he actually yelled at me, "Don't look at me! Don't look at me!"
Needless to say, I was placed in the cell with fleas and all my things were stolen. With all I did to secure my things, they weren't secured at all. After I filed a complaint about what had happened to me, I was told the procedure. I would be moved and then my things would be brought to me. I told the Captain that was never the way things had been done before. He told me that I was in a different situation. The young woman had stated she was afraid of me and I needed to leave the area immediately. I told him that Shaman could have gone up and gotten my things, because the young lady was no longer at their station, but back in the cell. he told me that he didn't have to do that for me. He didn't have to do anything, not even tell me why I was moving without my property. My only recourse was to do what I was told, even at the expense of my things being stolen.
The scratches on my face, the bruises on my back were simply collateral damages for not doing what I was told. I explained that I had never seen an inmate forcibly moved like that when they hadn't initiated the violence. I kept repeating, "I was just sitting there, asking to see a supervisor...I was loud or combative...I was just sitting there. He turned it into a violent situation, by ramming me into the door before it was fully opened." They would not relent and told me that I was insubordinate and could face punishment myself if he chose to write me up, which he did not." I told them that I thought I could take him, and I later found out he was beat-up by another inmate a few weeks before. He had begun a weight lifting regiment that had him thinking he was Superman. He had been one of the skinnier and weaker Deps working the women's pods. He had put on about 30 pounds since the last time I had seen him. I guess the best way he could prove he was a "big muscle man" was to go around getting into fights with women. Oooooh, what a man!
So, I understand what that woman went through in that holding cell. Maybe she was still upset about her situation, maybe the police had a fight with their wife or girlfriend or someone on the job. Nobody felt too much like being bothered that day. Her medication was probably on the way, being verified by a physician or sitting at the desk unattended and the officer didn't even know he had it. Either way, like Shaman, he don't owe her any explanation why she wasn't getting it. She's a nothing, nobody inmate and she don't deserve his breath or time it would take to tell her the truth. Yet, he could walk back and forth all day exchanging insults and curses. He would surely never let her know that he is doing all he can to get it, because if she died on his watch, he would be in big trouble! That would give her the sense she was actually valued as a human being.
I can't honestly say that she was right, because I wasn't there. What I can say is that she was behind a locked door. In order to put your hands on her, you would have to unlock that door and step in it. I know you had a desk away from her that you could have walked back to, but instead opened her door and put your hands on her. You weren't administering the medication. So, why did they open her door? They were tired of her mouth and wanted to teach her a lesson. It didn't have to be to beat her the way they did, but like so many Black women, she wasn't having that. They had probably been going back and forth all the day long, exchanging insults and getting on each others nerves. The one thing this woman didn't realize is that not all police officers are fair, just and in control. She also didn't know the rule of law amongst officers that states, "If my partner is being assaulted, I'm jumping in it and we're going to kick their ass!" That's true for all law enforcement, male, female, prison officer, police officer, parole, probation...ect...ect! Even if their partner starts the conflict or not, they are joining in and when their supervisor asked what happened, it is the inmate who was out of control.
Do you think any of us "normal" people have a defense against two cops. Nope! Only if he has a similar incident on his record. That is probably unlikely, because unless he is ostracized from the "Brotherhood" things of that nature are never reported or put in his file. It was necessary force, due to an inmate who was violent and belligerent. They stick together and don't ever go against one another, unless the incident was meant to be placed on their record. Nothing negative ever happens to one of them without their being a general consensus that's what it will be.
Even when there is a video, they will tell a story to justify why things happened the way they did. Even when you see two men beating on a woman, they want the world to believe, "It's not what it looks like." What is it then? It looks to me that someone got tired of someone else screaming insults to them. Grew tired of the constant cries for you to do your job. May I add one more time that the woman was behind a locked door. If she can't get to you, then why are you making her assaulting you so easy to be done? If you would stay on the other side of the LOCKED door there would be no fist flying!!!
But there doesn't have to be any logic to it when your partner is there and the two of you can make up your own story. You know that your superiors are going to want to believe your version of the story of that of a criminal. First, not to seem racist and dirty as a department. Secondly, because you would never make society believe that a word from a criminal is more valid than that of an officer. Although in many cases it is! I don't have to tell you that I know how they lie and cheat and steal their way through life, with a badge strapped to their belt or hanging at the collar. Not all, but the sum of those who do make it bad for the rest, and now isn't that what they would say about us?
So as we all know, they get away with far more than we do. I bet that officer, tired of her mouth waited for his buddy to come down, in an attempt to teach her a lesson. The buddy who is down for kicking a little ass when it is warranted. As a witness and a victim to it, our justice system has very little justice at all. They are worse than we are, and because they choose to be a cop, they get away with it everyday. This isn't the last of my stories of Oakland County Jail. I know it's not the last time a woman will be beat at the hands of some misplaced angry cops. Since you are so much better than the common criminal, why does what they say have such a great affect on you? I tell you why, because you aren't above her, but instead your just like her!
It's not my attempt to make officers villains, but to express how they are humans. They have the ability to make mistakes, be angry, disgruntle and petty as we are. What I don't appreciate is how they are allowed to get away with it, because of their badge. Furthermore...I still haven't heard from that incident from Eric Smith - - Macomb County Prosecutor. Who in my opinion is guilty of First Degree Stupidity. I think they are sweeping another one of their "incidents" under the rug. What do you think???
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