Up until recently, corrections officials have not been doing enough to curb this violence. Prisoner rape occurs most easily when guards aren't around to see or hear it. Inmate populations are continuing to grow and this makes policing prisons and jails even more difficult. Insufficient staffing and outdated facilities where observation of inmates is limited contribute to an atmosphere that makes it harder for authorities to protect vulnerable prisoners. There's no question that jails are short of money, but there are steps that can be taken to protect inmates from being raped. Staff training, inmate orientation, and assignment of prisoners by crime and by propensity to violence are a few examples. By not stopping and prosecuting sexual offenders in prisons, we arc in effect legitimizing the act.
Being gang raped in prison has scarred me in ways that cannot be seen or even imagined. My shame, low self-esteem, self-hatred, deep-seated rage, and inability to trust went unabated for years. To drown out the painful memories, I went through a period of heavy drinking and drug use. Even after years of therapy and recovery, I still occasionally awake at night in cold sweats, crying. I'm remorseful about the actions of my youth, and I accept full responsibility for the choices I made, but no matter what crime someone may have done, no one deserves to be raped.
When President Bush signed the Prison Rape Elimination Act of 2003, Congressman Frank Wolf (who sponsored the bill in the House with Congressman Bobby Scott) sent me a personal note that read: "Hopefully the work we have done will save another seventeen-year-old from suffering the same fate as you did."
I am a survivor, but my story is far from unique. I speak for the estimated hundreds of thousands of voiceless inmates whose personal stories will never be heard, whose life-and-death struggles behind bars will never be known. In giving voice to other survivors, I'm also taking back the voice that was stolen from me when I was seventeen years old and remained lost to me for many years. I have reclaimed that voice and with it strive to shatter the walls of silence that keep survivors incarcerated in their own personal prisons of despair, shame, and alienation.
Fish is my story, it is our story.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, to Marijane Meaker and The Ashawagh Hall Writer's Workshop: I could not have completed Fish had it not been for your guidance, compassion, and loving support. Even as my life felt like it was unraveling-you encouraged me to keep writing no matter what. To Jess Gregg (The Tall Boy, Permanent Press): You have been a mentor, a guide, and at times-a firm, loving father. Vince Lardo for his generous time and advice. To Laura Stein, Lynn Blumenfeld, Bob, Ed, Helen, Tom, Rob, Aurrice, Vivian, Betty, Meredith, Annie, Amanda, Wendy, Annette, Susan, Debora, Jim, Glynne, Barbara Ann, John, Leo, and Stacy. My inner boy thanks you with all of his heart.
Special thanks to Jim Fox, for his friendship and legal counsel, and to Tom Fallon who brought us together. To Scott Manning, my hardworking publicist, and Dr. Diane Austin, who was the first to read the entire manuscript and offer her clinical insight. To Robert Gatto, Lovisa Stannow, Kathy HallMartinez, Lara Stemple, Cynthia Totten, and my friends at Stop Prisoner Rape who also provided feedback. To Laurie Van Rooten, who believed in Fish nearly twenty-years ago, and who never stopped asking me when I was going to sit down and write it. To my friends of Bill W. who help me build the foundation upon which I live a sober life. And to any Higher Power and salsa secreto.
To my close friends and family, who helped hold my world together as I lowered myself down into the emotional abyss of darkness: I could not have been able to report back from any of those places, had you all not been there to help hoist me up again.
To Don Weise, my good-looking, sexy, and talented editor, who first heard about Fish over dinner and championed it with all of his passion. He understood what I was trying to do, and applied his gifts in all the right areas. If we help change the world of just one vulnerable inmate-Don is in large part responsible.
And last, to the hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children who end up behind bars every day: No matter what someone has done-no one deserves to be raped.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Consider Yourself Part of the Family
Epilogue
Prologue •
Camp Dearborn •
2 Last Chance for Romance •
3 The Absence of Drama •
4 Who's Angrier than Who? •
5 Chain Reactions •
6 Safety in Numbers •
7 Early Induction to an Inverted World •
8 The Big Blue Wagon Ride •
9 Prison Transfer •
10 Convict Orientation •
11 Quarantine •
12 Riverside Correctional Facility •
13 Lasting Impressions •
14 Slide Step's Squeeze •
15 Lessons in Streetball •
16 Blemished Masculinities •
17 What's in a Name, Anyway? •
18 Careful What You Ask For •
19 Taken by Surprise •
20 Compromising Choices •
21 What's My Lie? •
22 What's Under the Covers? •
23 Help Ain't Gonna Come Runnin' No Time Soon •
24 You Never Know Where It's Coming From •
25 When All Else Fails ... • 205
26 Black Panther ... • 209
27 Greener Grass •
28 Consider Yourself Part of the Family •
29 The Oracle •
30 Head Games and Power Trips •
31 Go for the Grab •
32 Wolf Tickets •
33 Broken Promises •
34 I Will Arise and Go Now •
Epilogue •
Afterthoughts •
Acknowledgments •
