Prison is Slavery (Asphodel Chronicles)

Jana was beyond dubious about Cassandra’s insistence that Bob be invited to join the pod-cast when she was scheduled to present a book. She had been completely unprepared to defend her strongly held convictions and had grossly underestimated Bob’s intellect and his ability, and desire, to argue his point.

It wasn’t that she was wrong, in her mind. It was that Bob had a knack for twisting what she said in ways she never anticipated.

Cassandra appealed to Jana’s innately compassionate nature. “You and Bob have chemistry when on video. People tune in. People send the link to friends and then they watch it. Without both of you on the set, we won’t have an audience. We won’t have ‘eyeballs’ to attract advertisers.”

Jana knew that Cassandra was struggling for money and she didn’t want to be the one that killed her dream. Jana doubted that she attracted that much attention but she didn’t want Cassandra to feel betrayed.

Against her better judgment, Jana agreed to present again on then next Tuesday.

Jana was stiffly courteous to Bob at the start of the pod-cast. It was like two dogs meeting again after a tussle when there had been no clear winner. Both were wary. Jana because she vowed to not underestimate him again.

Bob was wary because he couldn’t appear to be mean or a “heavy” without jeopardizing his business. He was no longer wearing the work-clothes he had been wearing while he busing tables the week before. He had on a “western-style” shirt with snaps, a bolo-tie with a clasp of silver and polished malachite and crisply ironed khaki slacks. He would have looked equally at home in any truck-stop from Bakersfield to Yazoo City, Bangor to Yakima or anyplace in between.

Jana’s presentation on The Complete Poetry Works of Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (1900, First Edition) sparkled. She gushed over the poetry and read several selections out-loud. "Poetry is meant to be heard" she exclaimed. She gushed over how the volume felt in her hand. She expressed amazement at how the 120 year-old paper was still creamy-white and how it felt when she turned it over. It was probably the most intensely radiant presentation she had ever given. She was on-fire.

Bob did not comment but nodded as if he too cherished good poetry.

Jana relaxed a little bit.

The next book that was reviewed was “The Legacy of Slavery in Indian Territories (current Oklahoma and Kansas)” and the reviewer was foundering.

Jana rushed into support him by affirming what the presenter had mumbled too quietly for the mics to pick-up clearly.

Bob frowned, cocked his head and asked “Can you repeat that?” to Jana.

“Sure. I said ‘Of course prisons are a direct legacy of slavery..” Jana repeated.

“How do you figure?” Bob asked, clearly baffled.

“Prison labor is Involuntary Servitude and is a straight-line descendant of slavery” Jana declared. The book had been on the “Must read” list in her circle of friends. Bob was not in-the-loop and wouldn’t have had time to read it anyway, working 65 hours a week like he did.

“Prisoners don’t get paid anything close to a living wage. Most of them only make a dollar-a-day” Jana said with the authority of somebody with a near-photographic memory of material they read in the last six months.

“I respectfully disagree, Ma’am” Bob said.

“What do you disagree with?” Jana asked, cautiously.

“I disagree with your comment about them not earning a living wage” Bob said.

Jana laughed. She knew she was on firm ground here. “The living wage in Michigan is at least $15 an hour and the prison is only paying them about twelve-cents an hour” Jana said.

“What is a living-wage?” Bob asked.

“I told you, it is at least $15 an hour” Jana repeated.

“Let me rephrase the question. WHY is the living wage $15 an hour in Michigan?” Bob persisted.

“Because that is what it costs to LIVE in Michigan” Jana said. She could not believe how dense this man was!

“Why does it cost that much to live? Where does the money go?” Bob asked.

The high quality video cameras caught Jana rolling her eyes. “It cost that much because of the high cost of rent and utilities and food and healthcare and transportation...the list is endless” Jana said, her exasperation leaking out in her voice.

“How much rent does a prisoner in a penitentiary pay per month?” Bob asked.

The wheels in Jana’s mind spun, and then slipped, and then spun some more. “Why they don’t pay any rent” she exclaimed.

“How much do they pay for groceries or for cable-TV?” Bob asked.

Enlightenment dawned. Jana did not like where Bob was taking the conversation.

“But that doesn’t matter” Jana asserted. “There are far more Blacks in prison than any other race. Probably more than half of the prisoners are Blacks*” Jana said.

“Don’t go all ADHD on me” Bob said. “I know you are smarter than that. Let’s stay on-point and resolve this “straight line” you mentioned and not go haring off on wild tangents.” 

A grimace crossed Jana’s face, as if she had bitten into a very sour lemon. “OK, I see where you are going with that. But what about the prisoner’s families?” Jana countered.

“I have a very high opinion about women, likely higher than you have yourself” Bob said. “I doubt that very many of the men in prison are married because women are very practical. They can generally tell if a man will be there for her to support her and help her with her kids. Those families you are so worried about...I don’t think there are all that many of them and there are social programs to help those that do exist.”

“It is still evil for the State to get free labor out of prisoners” Jana said. "They are using their power to beat prisoners down and prison labor should be abolished on humanitarian grounds.” 

“Have you ever talked to somebody who spent time in prison and asked their opinion?” Bob asked.

“No. To the best of my knowledge very few people who have been incarcerated run in my social circles” Jana said. To her credit, a week ago she would have sniffed while sharing this acerbic tidbit.

“A couple of the cooks who have worked here were once incarcerated. In fact, they learned to cook in prison” Bob said.

“What they told me is that working was one of the few ways they could escape the grinding boredom of being locked up. It was a chance to socialize and learn new things” he said. "Nobody FORCED them to work. They applied for it. They WANTED to work."

“They felt safer in the structured, supervised prison workshops than they did out in the exercise yard” Bob said. “Far from ‘helping them out’, in your zeal to help them you would destroy one of the few things that keeps them sane and gives them hope.”

* Roughly 35% or over-represented by a factor of three.