May 6, 2020 by Johnny Page
Blurs and Erases
We find ourselves at an interesting moment. Pivotal in fact. As we collectively attempt to navigate uncharted waters I am constantly thinking about how prepared I am. For a large portion of my life, lockdown was my reality. This in no way suggests that our current shelter in place order is comparable to the physical lockdown currently being experienced by two million plus men and women across this country, because it’s not. However, there is something that lockdown and shelter in place have in common: it forces us and allows us to be still.
For many of us our daily routines have been disrupted, our financial stability tested, and we search for certainty in this uncertain time. We frantically watch the news, mine through countless articles in Google, as we attempt to fact check the multitude of social media posts that attempt to keep us informed or misinformed. Well at least I do.
It is in these moments when I am reminded of a different time and a different place. It is in these moments when shelter in place conjures up memories of being on lockdown while in prison. For 23 years the Illinois Department of Corrections was my place of residency. When I was released from prison 5 and half years ago I could have never imagined that I would once again be faced with a “lockdown” or anything remotely similar.
Prison is an entirely different place while on lockdown. On lockdown all prison movement comes to a complete stop; it is a wholly different experience from being simply locked up. On lockdown our daily routines were disrupted as we were confined to our cells for 24hrs a day for the duration of the lockdown. Those of us who were most fortunate or simply better prepared often fared better as the prison economy came to almost a complete halt. There was no work unless you were essential to the daily operation of the prison. There was no commissary (prison store where food, clothes , and toiletries are purchased), all you didn’t have you simply didn’t have or you relied on those who did. Kites (informal prison mail), lines (mode of delivering kites and other items), and anyone who could get out of their cell were our primary and often only source of communication. We searched from either cell bars or windows for any signs of movement, we stopped officers daily in search of information that would give some idea of how long the lockdown would last.
It is in these moments when these two worlds, “Shelter in Place” and “Lockdown” collide that I remember the lessons of those lockdowns. There was so much that I learned about myself and others during those lockdowns that at times I would secretly wish for lockdowns.
Lockdowns, much like shelter in place, forced me to be still. It stripped away all the daily distractions and allowed me to not only see myself but others for that matter. Lockdown forced me/us to sort of rely on one another in ways that ignored typical jail/prison politics. It is in these moments that our common humanity overrides physical and philosophical differences.
Prison can and often is a very contentious place. For most of us the lines are drawn long before we set foot on a prison gallery/tier. Race, ethnicity, gang/organization affiliation, sexuality, and even crimes serve as demarcations, but lockdown changes all that. Necessity blurs and sometimes erases these boundaries, and one lockdown in particular helped me understand this.
It was either 1993/94 and we were once again on lockdown. We’d just recently come off lockdown the day before, yet here we were again. We had not had time to go to the commissary due to the previous lockdown so resources were scarce. At the time I was living in a 2-man cell by myself so when the Correctional Officer said that I would be getting a Cellie (cellmate) I wasn’t surprised. When they brought the guy to the cell door we both looked at the officer questioningly. “Are you serious?” we both asked. The officer said “yes we short on cells, but as soon as a cell comes open we will move you out” he said to my new Cellie. The problem here is that we were a part of two different organizations and at that time in prison you were basically housed based on your affiliation. The housing of two active members with “opposing” affiliations rarely if ever happened, yet here we were. We would spend nearly 2 months in that cell together and in those 2 months we would not only share whatever commissary, information, and knowledge we had with one another but encouragement and hope as well. In the stillness of those 2 months I dare say we became friends. When the lockdown ended and prison politics resumed he moved out but our relationship remained, because we now saw one another.
During this shelter in place so many of us have stepped up and stepped beyond our physical and philosophical differences to help and serve those that need it most. We have banded together in a sense of shared humanity to support one another in these challenging times. As we move in what seems to be a frenetic pace towards the end of shelter in place let us not forget these moments where in our stillness we were able to see one another for the first time.
The people want segregation
This piece was written during circle in our new program Into A Black Beyond. IABB is a digital reading & writing circle for Black Chicagoans…
Follow My Lead
I am already behind the power curve from an excessive mistake I made as a teen...this killing not necessarily greater than the recent others but…
A Letter of Gratitude
And yet, in both of these places ConTextos calls home where we work with those who are bearing the deepest wounds we find illuminating hope.…