Hellcat
Registered
WETUMPKA, Alabama (AP) -- When she's released from prison, Bonita Graham wants to get a job, get her children back and stay off drugs.
But being HIV-positive keeps her from learning job skills at Julia Tutwiler Prison in Wetumpka, the nation's last that completely segregates inmates who carry the virus.
Graham, a 26-year-old mother of two, and the 12 other HIV-infected female prisoners are confined to Dorm 8, barred from taking the vocational classes available to the state's thousands of other prisoners.
Like most of her cellmates, Graham said living in Dorm 8 could be a rehabilitative experience if they could join the other prisoners to take the classes. But Graham an
others also find an upside to Dorm 8.
"For me, I wouldn't like to live in population," said Graham, who's serving 18 months for robbery. "I would like to go out in classes or
trad
e school and whatever classes they have available that populati
on gets and be living in our dorm."
That's because Dorm 8 is the most spacious room in a prison system that has struggled with overcrowding for more than a decade. The 13 women who serve time in the dorm enjoy television, a DVD player, telephones, microwave, a bookshelf stocked with encyclopedias and, most recently, a computer.
The living conditions are a far cry from the deteriorating shanty on the prison grounds that used to house them.
But modern-day conveniences and space aren't enough to erase feelings of isolation for inmates like Takiya Radford, a 22-year-old repeat offender who is serving a 20-year sentence for armed robbery.
"I feel that we were a part of the population when we was f
ree and now all of a sudden it's like isolation," she said. "It's not just about segregation. It's about us not feeling human just because we have a blood disease."
The
women of Do
rm 8 have taken a few classes within their confines including high school equivalency, self-esteem, parenting a
nd anger management. But they know that women in the general prison population enroll in job training classes at a nearby vocational school, and they want to know why they can't take classes like cosmetology, welding and mechanics.
In northern Alabama, the men's prison at Capshaw integrated its HIV-positive inmates into the regular educational and vocational programs in January, leaving Tutwiler the only prison that totally isolates its HIV population.
Department of Corrections Commissioner Donal Campbell said he supports integrating the women into the programs, though it is not a major priority.
"There's so many major issues we're dealing from
this department, that I've not put the necessary wheels in motion in Tutwiler," he said earlier this month.
Campbell said the men's HIV unit, which holds about 200 inmates, was in
tegrated into progr
ams first, because its structure made it easier to move the inmates to a class without a threat.
"It was just a matter of one done before the
other," he said. "The physical layout presents itself more so than Tutwiler."
Though some of the Dorm 8 women said they have had sexual relations with others in the isolation unit, they insisted that they would never do so among the general population.
They don't think any harassment or abuse in the general prison population could be worse than what some suffered outside Tutwiler, when they were free.
"I don't fear for my life in population -- that's what guards are for," Radford said. "We coped with it out there on the streets before we came here, so what's the problem with
us coping with it in here?"
Mississippi and South Carolina are the only two other states that keep HIV inmates in their own sleeping quarters, but they do integrate the prisoners int
o educational and vocationa
l programs.
Despite their complaints of getting second-rate treatment, the Tutwiler women said they value their health above all, and will wait patiently for access to the programs, instead of growing
weak from stress.
Meanwhile, they have begun publishing an HIV/AIDS awareness newsletter to educate inmates outside their ward about contracting and living with the virus.
Sheila Smith, 38, said patience and faith are what keep her positive during her five years at Tutwiler for manslaughter in the shooting of her boyfriend.
"I'm not going to say what I want or what I don't want because that freedom was taken away," she said. "There's nobody that got me here but me. These people don't have to offer me anything."
Most of t
he women said they wanted to become HIV/AIDS counselors or activists when they are released.
Radford, who will be reviewed for parole next month, has already spoken to youth groups dur
ing their visits to Tutwiler.
<b
r>"At the same time I want to educate myself well enough so I'm never afraid to let someone know I'm HIV-positive," she said. "I have to realize now that HIV is who I am. That's who I live for."
http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/South/03/19/ala...n.ap/index.html
But being HIV-positive keeps her from learning job skills at Julia Tutwiler Prison in Wetumpka, the nation's last that completely segregates inmates who carry the virus.
Graham, a 26-year-old mother of two, and the 12 other HIV-infected female prisoners are confined to Dorm 8, barred from taking the vocational classes available to the state's thousands of other prisoners.
Like most of her cellmates, Graham said living in Dorm 8 could be a rehabilitative experience if they could join the other prisoners to take the classes. But Graham an
others also find an upside to Dorm 8.
"For me, I wouldn't like to live in population," said Graham, who's serving 18 months for robbery. "I would like to go out in classes or
trad
e school and whatever classes they have available that populati
on gets and be living in our dorm."
That's because Dorm 8 is the most spacious room in a prison system that has struggled with overcrowding for more than a decade. The 13 women who serve time in the dorm enjoy television, a DVD player, telephones, microwave, a bookshelf stocked with encyclopedias and, most recently, a computer.
The living conditions are a far cry from the deteriorating shanty on the prison grounds that used to house them.
But modern-day conveniences and space aren't enough to erase feelings of isolation for inmates like Takiya Radford, a 22-year-old repeat offender who is serving a 20-year sentence for armed robbery.
"I feel that we were a part of the population when we was f
ree and now all of a sudden it's like isolation," she said. "It's not just about segregation. It's about us not feeling human just because we have a blood disease."
The
women of Do
rm 8 have taken a few classes within their confines including high school equivalency, self-esteem, parenting a
nd anger management. But they know that women in the general prison population enroll in job training classes at a nearby vocational school, and they want to know why they can't take classes like cosmetology, welding and mechanics.
In northern Alabama, the men's prison at Capshaw integrated its HIV-positive inmates into the regular educational and vocational programs in January, leaving Tutwiler the only prison that totally isolates its HIV population.
Department of Corrections Commissioner Donal Campbell said he supports integrating the women into the programs, though it is not a major priority.
"There's so many major issues we're dealing from
this department, that I've not put the necessary wheels in motion in Tutwiler," he said earlier this month.
Campbell said the men's HIV unit, which holds about 200 inmates, was in
tegrated into progr
ams first, because its structure made it easier to move the inmates to a class without a threat.
"It was just a matter of one done before the
other," he said. "The physical layout presents itself more so than Tutwiler."
Though some of the Dorm 8 women said they have had sexual relations with others in the isolation unit, they insisted that they would never do so among the general population.
They don't think any harassment or abuse in the general prison population could be worse than what some suffered outside Tutwiler, when they were free.
"I don't fear for my life in population -- that's what guards are for," Radford said. "We coped with it out there on the streets before we came here, so what's the problem with
us coping with it in here?"
Mississippi and South Carolina are the only two other states that keep HIV inmates in their own sleeping quarters, but they do integrate the prisoners int
o educational and vocationa
l programs.
Despite their complaints of getting second-rate treatment, the Tutwiler women said they value their health above all, and will wait patiently for access to the programs, instead of growing
weak from stress.
Meanwhile, they have begun publishing an HIV/AIDS awareness newsletter to educate inmates outside their ward about contracting and living with the virus.
Sheila Smith, 38, said patience and faith are what keep her positive during her five years at Tutwiler for manslaughter in the shooting of her boyfriend.
"I'm not going to say what I want or what I don't want because that freedom was taken away," she said. "There's nobody that got me here but me. These people don't have to offer me anything."
Most of t
he women said they wanted to become HIV/AIDS counselors or activists when they are released.
Radford, who will be reviewed for parole next month, has already spoken to youth groups dur
ing their visits to Tutwiler.
<b
r>"At the same time I want to educate myself well enough so I'm never afraid to let someone know I'm HIV-positive," she said. "I have to realize now that HIV is who I am. That's who I live for."
http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/South/03/19/ala...n.ap/index.html