This past April, Todd Ashker walked to the prison dining hall and ate at a table with other men. “So, this is what it feels like to be around fellow human beings and share a meal” he recalled thinking. This is an everyday occurrence in prisons across the United States, but for Ashker, this mundane meal symbolized the culmination of a decades-long fight. And he says that the fight isn't over.
Exhausted, I grudgingly open my eyes and pat my blanket as I awkwardly search for my phone. I open Twitter to see that my account has blown up. As I search my DMs to read the comments of support, a warm calming feeling covers me. My eyes well up in tears as I read one comment in particular. “We are better with you here.” That is all it said. So few words - but exactly what I needed to hear. I remember the night before thinking how I probably shouldn't post the tweet but I had no one to talk to.
Featured ReportingLatest NewsMarvel Cooke FellowshipPrison Protest This article was funded by the Marvel Cooke Fellowship. Read more about this reporting project and make a contribution to fund our fellowship budget. Exhausted, I grudgingly open my eyes and pat my blanket as I awkwardly search for my phone. I open Twitter to see that my account has blown up. As I search my DMs to read the comments of support, a warm calming feeling covers me. My eyes well up in tears as I read one comment in...
HomePrison Book Bans, Protect Mass Incarceration“Liberation under oppression is unthinkable by design.” - Erica MeinersReading helped me find the language and ideas to dream of new worlds. In prison, I educated myself, and I can’t imagine not sharing that joy through books with others. For me, the thought of book bans in prisons brings about the feeling of collective psychic death. While in prison, I resisted the killing of ideas by reading words of hope and life.
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At about 8 a.m. on April 3, I was pepper sprayed by prison guards as they broke up a fight between two men inside my cell. No one helped. I poured milk in my eyes and washed my face with cold water for nearly an hour. A guard laughed as I writhed in agony. That was only one of the many traumatic incidents that I've experienced as a trans woman living in a men's prison in Washington state for 18 years.
At about 8 a.m. on April 3, I was pepper sprayed by prison guards as they broke up a fight between two men inside my cell. No one helped. I poured milk in my eyes and washed my face with cold water for nearly an hour. A guard laughed as I writhed in agony. That was only one of the many traumatic incidents that I’ve experienced as a trans woman living in a men’s prison in Washington State for 18 years.
I, like many others, am trying to figure out what Pride means in 2022. As a trans woman being released from prison on Monday, June 20, one may assume I am ready to celebrate. Think again. What I am ready for is community and action. We all need community and action in 2022. Here is why. Conservative and religious groups have been busy lobbying against LGBTQ people. The result: a record number of bills proposed by state lawmakers in 2022, around 240. About half of these bills target trans people.
An incarcerated writer reflects on what her "going home" story will look like when home no longer exists. This piece is a commentary, part of The Appeal's collection of opinion and analysis. My name is Jessica Phoenix Sylvia, and I am a trans woman who has been living in a men's prison for the past 18 years. After being incarcerated for nearly two decades on domestic violence charges, I am finally being released.
Jessica Phoenix Sylvia Jessica Phoenix Sylvia is a soon-to-be formerly incarcerated trans woman. You can follow her on Twitter @AbolitionJess, where she will begin tweeting again after her release. You can support her here.
My experience as a trans woman forced to live in a men's prison in Washington State is barbaric and dehumanizing. Imagine living in an environment where you are surrounded by men and never seem to fit in. Trans women are a particularly vulnerable population who are at higher risk of physical and sexual violence, as well as suicide. Being placed in segregation for an extended period of time is another thing altogether; it is torturous.
The recent controversy surrounding Dave Chappelle's act, which features shocking jokes about trans people, has many considering the line between comedy and social responsibility. The conversations range from personal to political. My main concern is that this issue may be used to divide people. I can tell you what this is not about: it is not about Black against LGBTQ+, and it is not about cisgender against transgender. It's about TERFs.First, I want to get personal.
The guard in front of me was demanding to know if I was wearing a compression garment. "You are free to search me if you'd like," I remember saying, struggling to retain a calm voice. I have a lot of practice remaining calm in these situations. I'm a transgender woman who has been incarcerated in a men's prison in the Washington State Department of Corrections (WDOC) since 2005.
JusticeMost of us have heard the saying, “Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” After studying Hegel, Sartre, and Freire, I am convinced that the historical process is vitally important. So much so that I search for queer history to learn from. It helps me to find wisdom and make sense of present events as I look to the future.
As I sit wearing an oversized orange jumpsuit and silver bracelets around my wrists, I listen to the intensive management unit (IMU) supervisor at Monroe Corrections Complex say something I never expected to hear: “The Washington State Reformatory doesn’t want to take you. They say the transgenders are taking over.”“What!?” I blurt out. “What the hell do you mean the transgenders are taking over? Are they rioting? Do the skinheads not have anywhere to sit now?
What is it like for a trans woman living in prison during LGBTQ Pride month in 2021? No two trans people's experiences are the same: As a 45-year-old trans woman of color, I can tell you that it is difficult and complicated. I have seen many positive changes for trans prisoners in recent years and sadly, many of the problems remain the same. Overall, I feel ambivalent in 2021 as I maintain a climate of hope while feeling vulnerable, alone, and at times overwhelmed.
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