Don't Let the Time Do You: A Survivors' Manual for Prisoners in Isolation Units

Philadelphia, PA, June 2008. Robert King Wilkerson, a survivor of long-term solitary confinement, speaks at the StopMax conference to shut down the isolation units. Photo Terry Foss

The federal penitentiary in Marion, Illinois, went on permanent lock down in 1983. This created the first "control unit." Now, in addition to the federal government, some forty states have built these "maxi-maxi" prisons -- representations of the angry and cruel repression that grips our country today. Human beings are put alone in a small cell with double steel doors and no window for 23 hours a day. No program, no work, no education, meals alone, and maybe one hour by oneself in a bare dog-run outside. A religious task force calls such conditions psychological pain and agony tantamount to torture. It is torture.

In the mid 1980s I received a letter from Ojore Lutalo who had just been placed in the Management Control Unit at Trenton [New Jersey] State Prison. He asked what a control unit was, why he was in there, and how long he would have to stay.

At that point, we knew little of control units, but we began hearing from people throughout the country who said they were prisoners being held in extended isolation for political reasons. We also heard from jailhouse lawyers, Islamic militants, and prisoner activists who found themselves locked down in 24/7 solitary confinement.

In the early days, extreme isolation was used mainly to punish political prisoners and reduce their effectiveness as leaders. These prisoners were aware of what was being done to them and why, and were determined to resist destruction. Now, we get letters from young people who have no idea what is happening to them and lack some of the basic tools that might help them survive.

A promise to abolish the torture chambers

For those of us who have been in the struggle for decades, the deliberate use of long-term sensory deprivation is haunting. People we've known, loved, and worked with have been held in this manner. Their names and thousands of others haunt the spaces of every control unit, Segregated Housing Unit (SHU), Departmental Disciplinary Unit (DDU), and "ad seq" unit in the country.

No matter what name they are given, the purpose of these units is the same as it is in Abu Ghraib or Guantánamo -- the breaking of minds. And no matter how they are justified, they are illegal, banned under the UN Convention on Torture.

For people of my generation, this work is done with a compelling and lifetime passion and an understanding that the work is not risk-free. We've made a promise to those dead and alive to abolish these torture chambers.

The Survivors' Manual, first published in 1998 and now in its fourth printing, seeks to accomplish the opposite purpose of the isolation units. It brings together the voices of prisoners, advocates, mental health workers, and others -- and survivors, past and present.

Life in a Control Unit

Excerpts from a letter by Ronald Epps:

Welcome to the "Sensory Deprivation Experience."

Definition: self-explanatory -- the deliberate and intentional stripping of the cell down to an isolation cell, then the stripping of the individual down to the basic necessities, even down to the personal effects. Then locked within this cell 23 hours a day with barely the bare essentials, where even the wall-mounted stainless steel mirror in the segregation cells is removed from the walls so that even the sight of one's own image is denied.

This is Sensory Deprivation. And no matter how strong a person is, Sensory Deprivation is depravity at its worst. All five basic human senses -- sight, sound, smell, touch, and taste -- are severely suppressed -- when one is slowly, but surely, and very subtly stripped of all the common sentiments of humanity.

Under these adverse conditions of confinement, one tends to crave a change of scenery, location, atmosphere, and environment just so s/he can see new sights instead of the same ole, everyday, mind-deadening routine and faceless faces ... hear new and different sounds other than the quiet, indescribable silence that seems to speak louder than noise ... smell different scents besides the foul, stale, contemptible odor so common to everyday existence in this bottomless pit ... one seeks to touch base with, feel and embrace another human in an intimate, sensitive, humane, compassionate, personal way as opposed to the impersonal, inhumane, insensitive, degrading manner ... one develops a strong, intense desire to taste various foods.

Absent various forms of social stimuli, the human mind can become so debased, so de-humanized, and sink so low that if one isn't careful, there is a tendency to adjust, conform, and accustom oneself to a standard of living that is lower than that which exists within the animal kingdom. This is the adverse effect of long-term Sensory Deprivation. It is a form of physical, social, and psychological torture, and it pushes many self-respecting, rational-thinking, decent-minded men and women to a quest for excitement, acts of desperation, and to the most extreme paranoia.

Survival in Isolation

Excerpt from a letter by Paul Redd:

I have now been in prison 20 years and 18 of them have been spent in various SHUs (holes).

I have many years of experience in these hell holes and have witnessed a great deal in terms of seeing individuals giving up their inner strength and beliefs because in their minds they could no longer deal with the mental torture, isolation, the material restrictions, etc.

These individuals gave up and broke themselves because they were missing the key essentials to their inner consciousness that could give them the power to survive isolation.

I have been asked over the years: "How have you been able to survive all this and still be mentally intact?" My answers are very simple: I know who I am and where I am going; I don't let time do me, I do the time; My mind and thinking are far beyond prison walls.

Only my body is being held captive. To put it more plainly, 95% of time daily is spent writing and thinking outside of prison.

Now I would like to share with those who are new to this and those who have not yet developed the inner consciousness that gives them the power to survive -- here are my pointers on how to survive and use isolation to your advantage:

1) Regrowth -- begin with studying your history, culture, and yourself.

2) Make a real commitment to your inner consciousness.

3) Think of ways you can make positive contributions to our peoples in the communities.

4) Write letters with your ideas and input to unify yourself with both the young and the old. Send your letters to family members, friends, churches, publications, progressive newspapers, radio deejays, artists, college students on campus, lawyers, etc., etc. Keep writing, don't stop. You may not get responses from everyone you write to, but you will get some. Some may give you referrals to others, or they may like your ideas and be willing to help you get it going.

Constantly writing these letters reinforces your inner consciousness to solidify your internal change beyond mere words. Your focus is no longer your immediate isolation; therefore your thinking is not controlled.

Knowing you are from your history and culture gives you self pride and respect. But you must take this to another level in reaching to the outside with a positive mission.

This is the power to survive these hell holes, because your ability to know who you are as a people and your ability in thinking outside the walls take away this barbaric control over your existence and your mind.

Excerpt from a letter by Laura Whitehorn

Controlling the control unit:

To me the overriding thing of importance in surviving my various stints in control units was to refuse to relinquish control! By that I mean: keeping always in mind the purpose of the control unit and then using my own powers of understanding to resist their plan. Among other things, this meant:

• Making a schedule for my days.
• Having several different schedules, and alternating them, to avoid having the days all melt into sameness.
• Using exterior signals, such as changes in light, shift changes, regular noises from outside my cell, to keep track of time.
• Developing several different forms of exercise for different days and conditions.
• Developing some creative activity that allowed me to admire my own human creativity. Reminding myself that my place in the universe was as a sentient, loving, creative human being, not a caged animal, was helpful.
• Learning something -- undertaking to study something and use the mind. I left each unit having grown.
• Writing letters -- some active communication with the outside is needed.
• Keeping up -- for me, as a political creature, it was essential to get a subscription to a major newspaper.
• Fighting -- I fought for every shred of what I was supposed to have a "right" to. But it's hard not to get full of rage and frustration while doing this, so once in a while I would write a furious letter to the warden or someone else, saying everything I wanted, and then tear it up. Therapeutic, to a point.