When
imprisoned, and placed in an isolation unit, at some point you
begin to live inside yourself, assessing and measuring how you
are doing against the moment-to-moment, day-to-day challenges
that you are confronted by to gauge how well you are getting on.
Even though we may spend countless years in prison, little if
anything ever changes there. This might sound contradictory: in
our minds we can become inured to the harshest conditions as a
natural survival instinct; however in reality, they remain just
as agonizing. How we deal with them, process them, interact with
them in our mind largely determines the change we perceive around
us and inside ourselves.
Isolation
bears two recognizable features: one is introspection, the other
is torture. It brings out the worst in us and the best in us;
regardless, we must somehow still make it through the day. And
in the course of that day, and every day, we must fight our demons,
real and imagined. The real ones are plain enough to see. They
turn the keys.
(But
not all the turn-keys are bad, just most of them. I like to think
that the decent ones were well brought up by their parents; and
that the bad ones, perhaps, didn’t receive all they thought they
should from their parents and others, and therefore will always
feel the world owes them something and that meantime they can
do whatever they want. Controlling for greed and ideology - how
else do we explain the pathology of man’s inhumanity to man?)
Isolation
means you are cut off from the rest of the world, save for the
occasional life-line that finds its way to you in the form of
a visit, a letter, and the occasional headline on a discarded
newspaper that you might glimpse as you pass it by. Your world
is greatly reduced. Fresh air, sunlight, food, keeping your body
and clothes clean - the things you once took for granted - take
on new importance in your life.
Under
these reduced circumstances, you become so sucked into yourself
that an hour feels like a day has gone by, a day feels like a
week, and a week like a month. You lose a sense of time; you no
longer care whether it’s day or night; you hallucinate; you hyperventilate.
You know your scene has to change, nothing lasts forever. Your
survival instincts keep you holding on. And suddenly the unexpected
melodic sound of jangling keys break through the cocoon that time
and isolation had woven around you. Then you wonder, had all that
been a dream.
Isolation
transposes our reality; physical torture shapes it. Physical torture
is a ravening beast that has slipped its bounds from Hell to feast
upon the soul of humanity. It’s the Big Bad Wolf threatening the
Three Little Pigs. It’s the Boogeyman lurking in the woods we
heard so much about, coming to get us. It’s our worst nightmare
rattling a locked door, straining mightily to get at us. It’s
Abu-Ghraib; it’s Guantanamo; it’s the CIA’s
Extraordinary Rendition; it’s the screams of prisoners in U.S. police stations. It’s the cries of the torn,
the battered, the tormented victims of this ravenous beast that
rears its ugly head to feast on pried fingernails; electrically
charred genitalia, ear lobes, and human breasts; chased down with
a liter of water-boarding, stress-positions, extremes of hot and
cold temperatures; and garnished with absolute silence and jarring
noise. All done to preserve an antiquated political and economic
system that deprives the many of their needs and serves the few
in their greed.
Outrage
against this social practice should know no bounds; how can we
not fight to end it?! Let us send the beast and its minions back
to where they belong.
BlackCommentator.com
Guest Commentator, Herman Bell, (originally of Mississippi)
was a target of the infamous COINTELPRO outrage, was imprisoned
in New York, is a Black political activist
who is presently one of the San Francisco 8 defendants.
He was politically active with the Black Liberation Movement
and the Black Panther Party. Herman has been a political prisoner
for 35 years (since 1973). Click here
to contact Mr. Bell.
Below
is additional information on Herman and the other SF 8 defendants: