Friday, November 20, 2015 Time: 10:20am Location: Segregation Housing Unit, Toledo, Ohio
I just returned from my Rules Infraction Board (RIB) hearing regarding my recent “peaceful protest,” in which I was charged with “creating a disturbance.” As I’d anticipated, the two-person RIB panel buried me with disciplinary sanctions. They issued me:
(1) 15 days in Disciplinary Control,
(2) 30 days of phone restriction,
(3) a referral to be placed, afterwards, in Local Control (i.e. a longer form of Disciplinary Control lasting up to six months),
(4) and a referral for a Privilege Review, to extend the length of time that the administration wants me to spend in its newly created Limited Privilege Housing Unit.
The Limited Privilege Housing Unit is the unit that I refused to house in that led to me staging my protest in the first place. Being, however, that I’ve long since become accustomed to being judicially lynched by RIB panels, the flood of disciplinary sanctions barely upset me.
What did upset me, though, was the vindictive attitude that the female African-American RIB Chair, Lt. Cowell, had towards me during the hearing.
During my RIB hearing, as I tried to explain my reason for staging my protest, Lt. Cowell repeatedly interrupted me, and spoke to me in a patronizing fashion, as if I was a child. For the most part, I simply ignored the woman and let her say the ridiculous things that she has been conditioned to say. Ten years ago, I would have probably responded angrily. Today, however, I’m inclined to express my discontent in a more civil fashion by way of writing. And with this being said, I just want to say that in this destructive age of mass-incarceration, which has decimated the families of hundreds of thousands of African-Americans, it is downright shameful that a black person in a position of power inside of the criminal justice system is reluctant to use their authority towards attempting to balance the uneven scales of justice, which, for African-Americans, have been unbalanced since the first slave stepped foot on American soil. For, in the twenty-first century, it is inexcusable for a black person to be a sell-out.
Well, now that I’ve gotten this off of my chest, I’m done for now … But, the struggle continues.
Sunday, November 22, 2015 Time: 8:55pm Location: Segregation Housing Unit, Toledo, Ohio
As of today, counting from the date of my November 1993 arrest, I’ve now been confined for 22 consecutive years, in spite of the fact that I wasn’t convicted of killing anyone, or convicted of trying to kill anyone.
Back in 1993, never in a million years would I have thought that I would still be locked-up heading into 2016. The fact that I am, however, is mind-boggling to me, and the weight of my incarceration has almost become unbearable to hold. Since being given a five-year flop at my most recent parole hearing in 2014, I’ve been dealing with extreme bouts of depression, which I actually feel guilty about considering that there are millions of people throughout the world who are in worse situations then me. But, with each new day, some kind of way, I find a way to stay optimistic that my overdue freedom is near. And with this being said, as I begin my twenty-third year of being confined, I want to ask whoever is reading this blog entry, whether if you’re black, white, Christian, Muslim, atheist, a democrat, or republican, to PLEASE assist me with trying to secure my freedom.
If the United States can make a demand to Iran for them to release the unjustly imprisoned Washington Post journalist Jason Rezaian, then the United States should be able to make a demand to the Ohio Parole Board that they release me from my well-documented unjust excessive imprisonment as well.
And on that note, I conclude this blog entry by saying, “FREE BOTH OF THE JASONS!”
* Show your support and learn more about the injustice of Washington Post journalist Jason Rezaian by reposting the hashtag #FreeBothJasons on your various social media platforms.