For those of you who wonder what prison is like — especially what mental health in so-called residential treatment programs in prison is like, here’s an outtake from a True Crime recitation of an actual group meeting.

“December  17th, 2014

Group had been about domestic violence and violence against women. It was very popular. It was not the kind of conversation and verbal expiation that would have been popular at the Knights of the Round Table. Chivalry had never existed on the mean streets where these guys came from.

“Ma gran’ma  tol’ me  dat someone  hits you, you hittem  back.” said one 22 year old black kid.

“Does that include a woman?” asked Ms. Roddy, in the circular group setting. 

“Don’ matta. Da bitch hits me an’ I beat her.”

“Yeah,” said another  guy, “some bitches like ta get hit. Dey aggragate  a niga ’til she gotta’ be punched.” 

“So, what you’re saying is that if a woman gets you angry, it’s okay to beat her?”

“Yeah, she lookin’ ta get beat,” he said looking around at the mostly black other guys in the group who were shaking their heads in agreement.

“Does everyone agree with that?” said Ms. Roddy, chewing viciously on her gum. “Is it okay to beat a woman if she started to annoy you?” 

“Yeah!” said one guy.

“Definitely,” said another.

“Does anyone here have any idea what the numbers are for the reported cases of domestic violence?”

“Fifty pacen’,” said one. 

“Ninety pacen’,” said another.

“Okay, but it’s less than one percent in this country.” They all looked at each other and smiled.

“And, that includes rape,” she said. 

More smiles.

“I hadda a girlfren’ an’ she was sleepin’ an’ I  gets on’er. She gets up an’ she mad a’me.”

“Yeah,” said Roddy, “well, let me tell you, that’s rape.” 

“Wha?” said the black kid,

“Yes, you have sex with a woman while she’s sleeping and that’s rape.”

“C’mon, man, she ma girlfren’, we fuck allatime. She jus’ woke up onna wrong side.”

“Yeah, well, she woke up on the wrong side because you’d raped her.” Roddy was insistent. “And, let me tell you, you would wind up right back here if you did that and she reported  it.”

“How ’bout if you drinkin’ an’ she pass out an’ you have sex. Y’know f’you fuck ‘er?”

“That’s rape too.” said Roddy.

The guys were looking around at each other, laughing at Roddy, who was frustrated and chewing her gum anxiously. Now, she was preaching consequences not advocating for women.

“You guys have to understand, that if you have sex with anyone, EVEN IF IT’S WITH ANOTHER MAN, you need to have their agreement. Not while they’re asleep or passed out.”

“Anotha’ man,” laughed one black kid, “you kiddin’?”

“Listen, someone calls the cops and YOU get arrested. They ask the questions later down at the  precinct.”

I raised  my hand. And, the person talking called me.

“So, what if I said that you shouldn’t hit a woman under any circumstances?”

A few guys laughed. “What?” said one guy. 

“Under ANY circumstances?” said another.

“Yeah,” I said, “under ANY circumstances.”

“Bitch comes at me wid a knife, I’m supposta’ not puncha? Fuck dat, she lookin’ fa’a beatin’, she gonna’ gedit.”

“S’about rispec’, man. What niga gonna’ walk away from some bitch who lookin’ ta get beat?”

Roddy was shaking her head and viciously chewing her gum and I simply looked at them. We had moved on to Drama’s Family Sculpture.

The 5’5” tall black kid from upstate New York, a town near Buffalo, brought about 5 of his friends up in front of the group to introduce the “members of his family” to  us all.

His mother had been a crack addict, one of his brothers had been shot and killed at the age of 10, another died in prison and he was here for a gun charge. He was the family success story.

“Ma feelin’ is that I wan’ respec’ from nigas.” he said with a very serious face.

Roddy, watching his performance now, said, “You’re here for a gun charge and you’ve been here before, is it Respect you want or do you want people to fear you?”

“I wan’ ’em to fear me an rispec’ me.” he said, very straight-facedly, looking around the room at the reaction of the others. 

“But, you’re not getting respect. You’re getting fear. Your friends fear you but it’s likely that they don’t respect you. And, what are they doing for you here?” 

“S’okay that they fear me.”

“So, you really just want people to fear you? When you wave a gun in their face?” Roddy was insistent. No response from the kid. Then he smiled.

I thought better of commenting. I had no idea how volatile these guys were. I mean, we were in a Medium A prison, a Medium B prison  was essentially a Minimum.

There were no longer any Minimums in the New York State system. All of them were closed  for  budgetary reasons. Instead of opening MORE minimums and taking all of the non-violent inmates out of much higher, labor-intensive facilities, the phony move away from “punishment’ and towards “reform” which would have cost less, had been perverted.

So, we still had actual, violent inmates in this and all Mediums and I did not want to find out that Drama was a kid who would benefit, in his mind, from showing some white guy that he WAS to be feared. I had no interest in being a test case and wind  up with a fucking shank sticking out of my side as he gets hauled off to the Box. What did I know? I mean, really, what DID I really know?  I could drop that line of commentary and go without hearing any answer. 

Often, a wise decision in prison. 

NOT getting an answer.

Copyright 2022