Many o f the relationships around me are
marriages of convenience. Usually relation
ships mounted on a basis of fear continue to
survive by the use of fear. Some men are
actually bought and sold, although this prac
tice is not so common as it once was. Still, the
official view of homosexuality is many times
verified by the obvious existence of so many
preditor/prey relationships.
The good news is that while gay men in
prison do run the risk o f being prey, they also
have the same opportunity as men and
women everywhere to determine their own
identity and face the prospect of gaining a
public awareness and respect not found in
living a life, even a temporary one, trying to
live up to the expectations and desires of
others. The raised fis t or even the raised
eyebrow still works wonders.
Recently the AIDS crisis hit the prison
mentality very hard. While the national media
was whipping the public into a froth with the
hysteria surrounding the public's right to
know; in prison gays were nearly burned at
the stake.
Some inmate groups that are traditionally
hom ophobic attempted to keep gay inmates
from com ing in contact with food, medical
services and away from recreational facilities.
The administrations of particular institutions
were hard pressed to handle the problems
between gay and non-gay inmates because,
by nature, the majority of personnel working
in institutions are pressured by their peers to
prom ote anti-gay attitudes.
At the height of the hysteria attack I was
located at the Federal Correctional Institution
at Talladega, Alabama. Meedless to say
Alabama was not a bastion of sympathy
when it came to diverse sexual lifestyles. Staff
pressures on gay inmates were incredible. At
one point, staff, in a group of four, were over
heard in public conversation using words like
faggot queer, punk and cocksucker.
Using the Bureau of Prison’s form BP9,
Inmate Grievances, it was pointed out to the
Warden of FCI Talladega that although Tal
ladega was in Alabama the rules that affect
both staff and inmates are set and enforced
by authorities in Washington, D.C., and that
the sexism and bigotry overheard should be
left on the other side of the fence and not be
allowed to cross into that domain.
This approach worked. Surprisingly, the
Warden took public notice of the complaint
and effectively stopped the public comments
by his staff.
When Dan White was recently released
from prison in California conversations were
overheard to the effect that all White had
done was to kill two faggots, and that he
should have been given a medal for the act
Mow at FCI Ashland, KY reports of the
above conversation prompted the Psychol
ogy Services Department to approach the
Administrative staff and call for an end to
such public comments.
Progress is being made. When the head of
the snake attempts to correct blatant discri
mination perhaps the entire problem is in the
process of being solved. Yet still, the bottom
line is a total negative reaction to the diffi
culties of the gay relationship.
In 1984 there are no active gay-oriented
group programs in the U.S. Bureau of
Prisons. The Federal Youth Center at
Englewood, Colorado does have, on paper at
least a gay rap group; and up until the time I
left Talladega there was a gay group meeting
weekly and dong a good job of avoiding gay
issues. But a start nonetheless.
Perhaps the root of the current lack of
interest in gay issues can be attributed to the
lack of effective gay lobbying for an increase
in attention towards the special needs of gay
inmates.
It can be assumed that the federal govern
ment reacts to gays in a much more positive
manner than any of the state governments.
Mot much information gets to the gay media
from behind the walls of prisons across the
country. Although these walls are thick and
from the inside appear impenetrable, they
are not so awesome from the side of freedom
that an occasional inquiry from the “streets’’
could affect changes.
by Kate Allen
we could have a 13-hour lovemaking session
like we wanted — we had an hour max.
One day she suggested we make love un
der the bed. At first it was a joke. But after a
while we had to start taking it seriously. It
seerrfed the only way without getting caught
We talked about it, planned it, and we even
measured under the bed to calculate how
I have been active in Portland’s lesbian and
gay com m unity for six years. Minus the nine
months I spent in the Federal Correctional
Institution at Pleasanton, California. I was
sentenced to one year but was released after
nine months, for good behavior. What they
didn’t know didn't hurt me. I was asked to talk
a little about what it was like being a lesbian in
prison.
I should first explain what the prison was
like. It was small, about 300 inmates. There
were three separate dorms for inmates, the
Bureau of Prisons called them units, two for
women and one for men. Each inmate had
their own cell or room. The rooms were
about six by 13 feet including the toilet and
sink, with cement walls and tile floors. I threw
that in just in case you were trying to visualize
it There were no bars in the rooms, just a
door with a window so the officer could peep
in on you at any time.
There were very strict rules regarding
physical contact with other inmates. We were
allowed to hold hands and that was it Mo
hugging, no lying on the grass with anyone to
watch the clouds, no anything.
Technically, you were not even allowed to
masturbate, but they had a hard time enforc
ing that one.
There wasn't any discrimination on the
basis of sexual preference where these rules
applied. If we were caught violating these
regulations, we were taken off to the hole.
(Convict code for solitary confinem ent)
These rules made it nearly impossible to
have a sexual relationship with anyone, and I |
was determined they were not going to force ^
me to be celibate for a whole year.
It wasn’t long before I met a woman who l 3
became quite attracted to, and holding
-fc
hands just didn’t satisfy those urges we were
starting to experience. That is when she and I
started to scheme ways that we could make
love without getting caught
The trick, we decided, was to get into one
or the other of our rooms without being seen
by the officer or another inmate. Once in
there, we had to make sure we wouldn’t be
seen by a passing officer who might decide to
peep. One thing for sure— there was no way
Just O ut, March 30-April 13
In prison being a lesbian isn't as much a
matter of lifestyle as it is an issue of sexual
preference, and sexual preference doesn't
matter if you can't have sex.
Most men and women have someone they
are acquainted with who is locked up in an
institution somewhere in the United States.
These men and women are not animals and
even with the weight of society’s verdict on
their backs deserve to be treated as human
beings. Without the constant watchfulness by
free gay society, gay inmates will continue to
be treated as second class people which, in
light of what a first class inmate is treated like,
is unacceptable and abhorrent.
C.D. and me are not the rule. Luckily for
me I have found a man in the mold accepted
by his peers as well as by the authorities as an
object of respect And, I am not weak myself.
So this tim e behind bars is not so brutal for
either of us. But believe me. we are the excep
tion. With our strong personalities and com
mon sense we get by. Around us gay men are
literally spat upon and forced into situations
unspeakable because even on the best of
days the american (sic) prison system wants
to believe gays do not exist And without your
support we are without consideration.
Painted faces, effeminate names, swishy
walks and forced sexual favors are a way of
life for some. With the strength of the knowl
edge that this will end soon for me I do not
suffer. Some do. In many ways their suffering
rests on your shoulders. It doesn’t take much
courage to write a letter or spend the day in a
visiting room.
much room we would need. We needed
more room than was there. We smuggled
some wood blocks from the carpentry shop
and put them under the bed posts so we
could have a couple of extra inches.
After two weeks we both felt the big day
had arrived. We showered and put on easily
accessible clothing. We laid a blanket out
under the bed, completing the necessary
preparations. I would have liked some soft
music and candles, but there were none to be
had.
My lover-to-be went out in the hall to make
sure no one was around while I snuck into her
room and jum ped under the bed. (Actually,
you can't jum p under a bed, you slide.) After
several minutes she closed the door and
joined me.
Once we got over our laughter, we set out
to do what we had talked about for so long. It
wasn’t long before we realized that there just
wasn’t enough room under there to do any
thing more than explore each others’ bodies.
Even that we couldn’t do seriously.
First my lover got her hair caught in the
bedsprings that were above us. It took me at
least five minutes to untangle her from that
mess. Then I got my elbow trapped between
two springs; it took an eternity to set my
elbow free without having to amputate. We
both received knots on our heads from hit
ting them on a metal bar that was under
there.
Before we know it our time was up. It was
just as well... the mood had been ruined. A
cold shower couldn’t have worked better. We
gave up more frustrated than when we had
started.
She slid out from under the bed first, and
then signaled me when the coast was clear.
As I left her room to tend my wounds I
pondered the differences between being a
lesbian in prison and being a lesbian in the
“real world.’’ In prison being a lesbian isn't as
much a matter of lifestyle as it is an issue of
sexual preference, and sexual preference
doesn't matter if you can't have sex.
Kate Allen is a pseudonym for a Portland-
based Media Monitor who needs to remain
in the closet about her past, yet is free to be
out o f the closet about her sexuality.
7