A Q&A with an Incarcerated Worker
Why hello, Waywards readers. I have a few interviews/Q&As headed your way as we make our way through the rest of 2022 and move into 2023.
The Q&A below comes from written correspondence with an incarcerated worker. I sent my correspondent questions via the JPay platform many prisoners throughout California used to use regularly to communicate with friends and family on the outside. A number of California prisons switched to a platform called GettingOut a while ago. Both online messaging programs have issues, and the transition hasn’t exactly been smooth. Some incarcerated folks who used to be able to send or at least receive JPay messages can now no longer do that. A number of people held in prisons in this state still can’t communicate through GettingOut either.
Christopher Santana, currently locked up inside California State Prison, Los Angeles County, is one of those people.
Back in June, he replied to my questions in a letter he sent through postal mail. I initiated the correspondence because I had hoped to receive commission from an outlet seeking pitches and stories about workers whose labor illustrates the changing nature of work in the Western US. Although the editor I exchanged emails with initially expressed interest, concerns about access led to the publication declining to commission the profile piece focused on Mr. Santana that I pitched.
I pitched the piece in part because of Mr. Santana’s membership in the Incarcerated Workers Organizing Committee of the Industrial Workers of the World. The IWW, by way of IWOC, remains one of, if not the only labor union willing to facilitate organization among imprisoned workers. IWOC advocates for prison abolition. The prisoner-led organization also helped coordinate two of the largest recorded strikes among incarcerated persons in 2016 and 2018. From 2015 through 2018, IWOC published a print newsletter, The Incarcerated Worker, featuring writing and art shared by prisoners.
Somewhat in the spirit of that newsletter, and since I did not want Mr. Santana’s time and effort in answering my questions go to waste, I figured I would share our Q&A here. Mr. Santana recently granted me permission to do so. I think his perspective on work inside prison and on the value of IWOC and organizing/mobilizing efforts are worth considering too, which is another reason I wanted to post them.
For his part, Mr. Santana paints a picture of what labor in a prison kitchen looks like and details what it entails. He also highlights the low wages prisoners receive for the work they do. And I think his comments regarding the (surprisingly) decent working relationship he enjoys with correctional officers offer food for thought for those of us committed to the abolish of prisons; Mr. Santana’s experience perhaps provides reason to consider why a number of working people gravitate toward CO work and what can be done about that.
Many options for halfway decent employment in the US have dwindled over the last few decades. Effects of that trend include those of us below the 90th percentile missing out on $47 trillion we would have received from 1975 through 2018 if income distribution patterns from 1975 through 1974 had continued, per research by the RAND Corporation. Throughout the same period the population witnessed a shuttering of domestic industries by companies opting for cheaper labor abroad — labor often performed under repressive conditions and/or in environments where organizing is discouraged by severe workplace discipline and/or by the threat as well as use of violence. Widespread social disinvestment, not to mention anti-union sentiments, policies/legislation and actions from dominant political circles likely contributing to the decline in union membership over the years (and to ongoing organizing difficulties), hardly ensured or function to promote living wages, enjoyable working conditions, or labor settings wherein people might exercise meaningful say over the work they do and over the workplace decisions affecting them.
Jobs as prison guards — which, even putting aside the dystopian facilities and arrangements associated with the work, can be still be rather horrendous — have been known to pay appreciably more vis-à-vis what’s available in hard-hit areas, like those places where prisons have been erected.
Mr. Santana’s account, for me, prompts consideration of how men and women drawn to CO work and staff labor on the inside that maintains and reproduces prisons could be persuaded instead to participate in efforts to address the aforementioned systemic problems and to become involved in the budding movement to abolish incarceration. Like those advocating for a “just transition” (away from CO2-emitting fossil fuel industries) that, for example, would avoid leaving coal miners without ways to provide for themselves and their families, perhaps more of us seeking elimination of the prison-industrial complex (PIC) could bolster the struggle for abolition by generating ideas and pursuing actions geared toward realizing a similar transition for correctional officers and the like. What Mr. Santana shared also has me wondering whether sympathetic guards and staff who counter the trends inside could be reached in ways that enable them to support, if only covertly, incarcerated folks facing retaliation for organizing or for simply standing up for themselves in institutions that routinely punish such behavior.
That won’t apply to all in those positions. The jobs can attract people eager to discipline, punish and order others around. And the stressful, authoritarian milieu has proven adept at engendering authoritarianism even among those not initially on board with treating people poorly. Yet, with concerted efforts to organize and persuade, select COs might even become (open or clandestine) allies willing to aid in prisoner solidarity initiatives and assist with the broader push for PIC abolition.
And maybe Mr. Santana’s responses to my questions will spark similar thoughts, new ideas and critical questions among those who read through our exchange. So with no further adieu, I present Waywards visitors and subscribers below with the lightly edited Q&A I did with Mr. Santana several months back.
James Anderson: Can you describe in detail the work you do as a cook in the kitchen for the yard inside CSP-LAC? That is, what tasks do you have to perform? What does a typical day look like in terms of the labor you do?
Christopher Santana: As an assigned kitchen cook, my work hours are 12 p.m. to 7 p.m., although times may vary, such as yesterday on [July 4], I didn’t leave work until 8:15 p.m. So our focus is in regards to dinner, which is during [the third] watch. My day-to-day is simple; I have to cook and make sure food is ready by dinner time. We are responsible for the correct count, any kitchen equipment/utensils/tools, food prep, readiness, and cleaning up the whole kitchen area when done. [We] practice good hygiene and [maintain] sanitary conditions. I am one of four cooks for the yard. [I] typically work five days a week, and get two days off. It’s actually labor intensive, but expected when dealing with bags and boxes that can be 30 to 50 pounds. Plus we cook at a high volume, so [it’s] physically demanding, not to mention the heat from the ovens and grills we use. Some days are easier than others; [it] depends on what’s on the menu for dinner.
Anderson: Why did you decide to take the job, and why do you keep up the work? Did you gravitate to the job because of any similar past work experience, or did you have to learn everything about working as cook when you started the job inside the prison?
Santana: I had no part in the decision to take the job. Inmate Assignments automatically assigned me; after that [it’s] basically mandatory. If you refuse, you will be written up and given disciplinary action. I had zero work experience in this field; over 14 years of incarceration and this is my first job in the kitchen. I am learning as I go; [it’s] not difficult really. [It’s a] matter of learning cook times, efficiency, and technique. I still do it because I enjoy learning new things and like overcoming challenges. Plus it helps pass the time.
Anderson: How hard is the work? Do you like or despise it — or do you like certain aspects and despise others?
Santana: Work is work. Some days are difficult because of the meals. Other days are much easier. I suppose I like certain days and dislike others. What I don’t like are the hours. [The job] takes up my afternoon [through to] the evening, which has a negative impact on my ability to use the phone and [handle] certain problems because the times are in conflict.
Anderson: Do you have a supervisor/manager? If so, is that someone who's also incarcerated, or is that a CO or staff person? And what's the supervisor/manager-worker relationship like there?
Santana: I typically have two supervisors — a free staff [person] from the streets contracted to oversee the kitchen and food and a corrections officer [who] is more like maintaining order and what have you. The relationship is simple. The free staff we work closely with to make sure food temps are correct, everything is cooked properly and the count for the yard is correct. He double checks our work, more or less. The CO just checks us for count and safety protocols, but he mostly stays out of the way of us cooks. It’s [mutual respect] all the way around.
Anderson: Are you monitored much on the job, and are you allotted regular breaks?
Santana: We are monitored 24/7 because of the cameras everywhere in the kitchen. The free staff is a constant presence to oversee all we must do. The CO is usually out of the way, though. We don’t have specific break times. But you are more or less free to take one when necessary.
Anderson: How did you get involved with IWOC? What did/do you make of the IWW's anti-capitalist philosophy and IWOC's philosophy of prison abolition, and how/what do other incarcerated persons inside CSP-LAC think about those things?
Santana: I got involved with IWOC in my last SHU term, in 2017-2018. My celly was all for it. I agree with a lot of the [IWW’s philosophy] and IWOC’s philosophy of prison abolition. It’s obvious locking everyone up and throwing away the key has not worked. Many other inmates agree, I assure you.
Anderson: Have you done any organizing or participated in any direct action inside the prison and/or inside the kitchen? In the same vein, how would you describe your relationship with other incarcerated persons and with any co-workers there in the kitchen?
Santana: I haven’t been involved in anything [of note at this institution] as of now. I just transferred to this prison about a month and a half ago. My job is still fairly new as well. I would say my relationship with other incarcerated individuals and co-workers is good.
Anderson: Are there other prisoners inside there involved in IWOC? Have you introduced anyone in there to the union?
Santana: As of now, I believe no one in this prison yard is involved with IWOC. I am slowly introducing people to it, though. But in fairness, there is a lot of skepticism.
Anderson: Why is the organizing and direct action work IWOC facilitates/supports important, and how do you view prison labor and prison labor organizing in relation to the movement for prison abolition?
Santana: I think IWOC is important because it helps give a voice to many of us. [The union] adds weight to what we have to say. I understand prison labor, even if I don’t agree with the “forced” aspect of it. Prison labor organizing is sometimes necessary to make a point, such as during the [2016 and 2018] work stoppages and hunger strikes in 2011-2013. [That coordinated action] brought a lot of change, even if a lot of us [received] write-ups and were disciplined for it.
Anderson: What's the relationship between you and COs when you're working and when you're not?
Santana: The relationship between the [correctional officers and myself] while working is pretty good. They appreciate workers for the most part. When I’m off work, it’s decent as well. I’m all about mutual respect, and fortunately the COs I cross paths with are [too].
Anderson: What do you think most people on the outside in California don't understand about life and work in state prison?
Santana: I think many people [out on] the streets don’t realize what we do. Life and work in prison can be difficult. People assume it’s easy, which is not the case. And we work hard, for pennies on the dollar, not to mention forced labor. Not all people can cope with the stress of so much going on.
Anderson: How much do you make working as a cook inside CSP-LAC, and is that a typical wage in the prison?
Santana: As a cook right now, I make 15 cents an hour. Most people [on the inside] fall within [wages ranging from] 8 cents to 37 cents an hour. And [there are] very few [who] work for free. My supervisor tells me in three months I’ll get a pay raise to 20 cents an hour because they say cook’s jobs are important. Not all jobs offer pay raises, by the way.
Anderson: How can people outside of prison support organizing and activism among incarcerated workers and/or help improve the working conditions and remuneration of incarcerated workers?
Santana: I see some states are getting rid of “forced labor,” [and] perhaps this state will follow suit soon. Or, perhaps activism and organizing will lead to higher wages for those of us incarcerated. I suppose we will see.