I watch the #Steve Harvey,_ Show everyday at 3:00pm. In prison you
need a
good laugh and it
doesn't hurt that not only is he always dressed well, but he is
also my homie, from
Cleveland Ohio, and a high school classmate of my children's
father. There is
no one here from Cleveland or Ohio. All the women here are
from the New Zealand
area, New York or New Jersey.
Steven Harvey quoted #Joel Olsten,_ , stating that 25% of the people around
you will hate you for
no reason- they don't even know why; 25% of others can
learn to like you; 25%
are neutral and don't care about you either way; and 25%
will love you.
At the Camp that rings true. It is people that constantly plot
and wait on my demise
for no reason. Their hate is genuine. Because I have
built successful
businesses a few times and lost them by self-defeating behaviors
at home, I have
experienced constant haters. The more successful you become,
the number of haters
increase ten-fold. Prison is no different than the streets.
When serving
time, everyone should have a relative that they can count on
that is available
anytime to answer the phone and take care of business. What
type of business does
an inmate have? It could be taxes, or banking from the
previous life, or
child support orders, unpaid traffic tickets, and even creditors
are just a few of the
nuisances that do not cease just because you are in prison.
Even when you die,
certain people never stop being worrisome.
I
have had a few people in my lifetime be there for me, and I will call them
angels, because that
is what they are. My daughter Cleo, aka Tee, because
her middle name is
Tawana and since a baby we call her Tee- has been my angel
since I first began
doing this. I am not proud to say that I have been serving
prison sentences more
months than I care to reveal. Tee is always there for
me and loves me
unconditionally. My other angel was my paternal aunt, named
Naomi. She was
my father's oldest sister. We also shared the same birthday.
Naomi retired years
ago from the federal system as a secretary for Judge.
He later passed, but
she always kept his memory alive.
both of these ladies
love me unconditionally, and is definitely in the 25% of the
world that genuinely
loves and supports my efforts.
Naomi was always by the telephone. Her life consisted of church events,
calling the sick and
shut in, and hosting prayer circles from people all over the
country. She
called herself a Psalmist. What I loved about Auntie Naomi
is she was always
ready for whatever, and loved me unconditionally.
I had a serious problem with one of my bunkies while living in Arn-2.
I tried to work it out
before calling Auntie Naomi, because once she became
involved, it was no
dropping it. She followed things through each time.
I had mentioned in a previous episode that I was moved in with a lady
named May. She
was not from Cleveland, and I don't remember where she was
from, but it wasn't
Columbus either.
My first few nights living with her was normal. She was not a talker, but
neither
was I. I
preferred it that way. My cell was my sanctuary. I enjoy
being by myself,
and when in my room I
am usually able to put up a make shift curtain and do me.
Because prison rooms
have bunk beds like we are still four years old instead of
grown women, I was
able to tuck a sheet under the top bunk mattress, and let it
hang down as a curtain
over part of my bed. The rule was guards must be able to
see at least half of
your body at all times. If a guard walked by, they would see
the bottom half of my
body. Behind my curtain I would journal, read, write or
edit chapters, or
simply stare at the wall. If depended on what kind of mood I
was in at the time.
This particular day, I was behind my curtain.
"Bunkie, have you seen my earrings?" May asked.
"No, where did you have them?" I asked nonchalantly.
I did not appreciate
anyone asking me anything when I was behind my curtain.
In my imaginary world,
I was in my bedroom with my door shut and locked. Because
in prison you do not
have your own room, I did not appreciate anyone invading my
personal space or time
with myself.
"I had them sitting on the table, next to the TV that we both
use." May said with
an attitude.
WHY THE HELL WAS SHE TELLING ME ABOUT HER EARRINGS, AND WHO CARED?
I thought. It
was annoying.
She would not let me rest. Finally, I stood up so that I could look at
her sitting
on top of her bunk.
"Bunkie, I haven't seen any earrings. I have my own as you can see,
and a back
up pair. I hope
you find them." I said, as I left the small room. She had
really
gotten on my nerves.
When I sat outside my door at the table in the rec room, Essie came and sat
next to me.
"What's wrong Auntie?" She asked.
"May is tripping about her earrings. She is really getting on my
nerves." I said.
"Be careful with her Auntie. She is here for cutting someone's
throat with the
metal lid from a can
while they were sleeping. She is something else." Essie said.
WHAT IN THE WORLD? I thought.
Surely, Mrs. Turley knew this too.
When I walked back in my room at count time, Ms. May was sitting on her bunk,
holding the lid off of
the kool-aid container. WHAT THE HELL?
"Oh,
heck no! What are you doing May?" I said loudly.
I was not
about to play NO games with this woman. Also, I had to go to sleep in the
room with this
woman.
"I
want my earrings, and I know you took them." She said, looking crazy
as ever
by the eyes.
"Listen, I didn't take your earrings. You are welcome to have a pair
of mines.
Earrings are nothing,
and I don't want the tension in this room." I proffered.
"I
knew you took them! What other reason would you offer me a pair! I want
my
earrings.! She
screamed.
I do not
believe in calling officers to fight my battles. This was one time I
thought
about it, and quickly
dismissed that idea. I refused to go to sleep, and so did she.
We were locked in the
room together. I periodically got up to pretend to go to the
toilet just to see
exactly what she was doing on that top bunk. She wasn't sleep
either. It
appeared as if she was waiting for me to go to sleep, and she had this
stupid smirk on her
face.
We
both stayed up all night. The moment that the officer popped open the
doors
from their control
desk, I walked briskly toward the phone. I couldn't dial Auntie
Naomi's number fast
enough.
"Auntie Nay, they have me in the room with this psychopath. It is
bad enough they
have me in a max
unit." I said.
I
explained to Auntie Nay about her crime, and exactly how she was acting about
a pair of
earrings.
"Oh
no. We have to get you out of there. Go and talk to the unit, and
then call me
right
back." Naomi said.
I did
exactly that. The unit told me that they would not be doing any bed or
room
changes, and that I
was stuck.
I
politely called Auntie Naomi back.
"Don't worry. I have already contacted news channel 10 in your
area. They are
calling the warden as
we speak. After you hung up, my spirit told me to get busy.
You can't stay in
there with that woman." She said sternly.
"Thank you Auntie Nay." I said tensely.
"You call me back before bedtime, and I am going to make some other
calls."
Naomi said before
hanging up.
She
did. She called the Warden of the prison, Channel 10 news station again,
the Director of the
Bureau of Prisons, and the local police department of the city
with a formal
complaint, to put it on record in case anything happened to me.
She was
thorough.
Within
the hour, I was being summoned to the unit.
"Who
do you think you are? Your aunt is calling everybody. We are going
to move
you immediately, but
you don't run nothing here." The unit staff said.
They were
angry, and so was I.
"This is your new bed assignment. Your Aunt has also called the TV
station.
Call her right now and
tell her to call the dogs off." They ordered.
I did.
"Auntie Nay, I am about to move right now, and then I will call you
back." I said.
When I
walked in the room, May jumped down off the bed.
"I
found my earrings! I had stuck them inside my pillow case and did not
remember."
She said.
I said
nothing, and began to pack my stuff to move to the other side of the building
near the laundry room.
"What are you doing? Are you moving?" She said.
I did not
answer her. I kept on packing up my stuff.
"I
am going to see the unit. It was just a misunderstanding. I like
you as my room-
mate, and I don't want
to loose you." Her crazy butt said, as she ran out of the room to
try to stop me from
moving.
Let me
tell you something. The Lord himself could not talk me into staying in
the
room with that crazy
girl. It was too much. By the time she came back, I was packed
up and gone, thanks to
Essie and her helpers.
May had the nerve to try to speak to me later on. I kept it polite and
stayed as
far away from her as I
could. I thought about what could have happened to me if she
had not found her
misplaced earrings? Prisons all over the country have people with
mental health
issues. When they began to cut mental health budgets throughout the
United States, where
do you think a lot of the patients went? They were sent to
state and federal
prisons all over the United States. The problem is you can not always
tell who has genuine
mental health issues until you have a conversation with the
person. I have
spoken with many, and it is not funny at all. It is dangerous, because
they are mentally
unbalanced. Of course this is not an isolated prison thing.
Citizens
on the streets are
mixed in with society with severe mental health problems. Every
time we see the news
where someone has gone postal, we understand this.
I
did not come to prison to make friends. You are lucky if you are able to
meet
one person that you
can talk to in order to make your time easier. Regardless to how
this looks, this is
not a college campus, and serving time in prison is hard.
#Rhonda Turpin,_
author, publisher,
prisoner
April 21,
2014-Easter(so what)
fb/rhondaturpin
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