Alternative Valentines

Since I don't have a Valentine this year, I've pulled together a list of alternative Valentines for myself:


My sweet beloved cat Pepper.  Almost three years ago (when I was blonde) we met in an animal shelter -- it was love at first sight.  She is the best cat that has ever lived, bar none, and I will fight you on that.

Liz Lemon.  Not technically a Valentine.  We'll be co-celebrating Anna Howard Shaw Day.

The abyss.  I looked into it, it looked back into me.  We've been making eyes at each other ever since.

Ladybugs.  They're kind of stalker-y obsessed with me.  They swarmed my room in Huntsville and now they're all over my room in Austin; I even found one in my bed yesterday.  Move on, ladybugs, it's not going to happen.  Don't make it weird.

And, most importantly, Jesus.  (Or, more accurately, the personification of my relationship with the Triune God).  I mean, duh.  In the light of Christ's overwhelming love for me, buying him a box of chocolates it the least I can do.  He's not here to eat them, though, so I'll have to do that part myself.

Writing Overload

I really did sit down last night with every intention of writing a personal blog post.  However, I spent most of my Tuesday and Wednesday engrossed in a marathon of research, spreadsheeting, and typing up very dry data (trying to make it interesting); by the time I got home, I would rather have pulled off my keyboard keys than write another word.  So instead of writing about myself, I'm using this post as an insight into my job and reposting that blog entry here.

From the Grassroots Leadership blog:

Meet the private prison industry's lobbyists who could shape immigration reform

In the last two years, major private prison companies Corrections Corporation of America (CCA) and the GEO Group have spent at least $4,350,000 on lobbying the federal government, primarily to win immigration-related contracts.  What does that kind of money buy you?  Some pretty lucrative contracts, apparently.  In 2011, the federal government paid $1.4 billion to the two corporations, nearly a third of their total profits.

In fact, a 2011 report by Grassroots Leadership and Detention Watch Network found that private prison corporations operate nearly half of all Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detention beds.  What's more, private prison corporations are benefiting greatly from the criminalization of migration through programs like Operation Streamline.  

It’s no surprise – or secret – that immigration reform which reduces detentions and deportations would be a threat to private prison corporations' business.  Business Insider reported on February 2nd that in 2011, GEO Group CEO George Zoley told investors:

"At the federal level, initiatives related to border enforcement and immigration detention with an emphasis on criminal alien populations as well as the consolidation of existing detainee populations have continued to create demand for larger-scale, cost efficient facilities."

That same year, CCA stated in its annual earnings report that immigration reform

“could affect the number of persons arrested, convicted, and sentenced, thereby potentially reducing demand for correctional facilities to house them."

So who are these wealthy private prison corporations looking to to win them immigration detention contracts?   Below the jump are just some of the some the major lobbyists for private prison interests in Washington:

Mental Health in Dollars

It's been forever since I've updated this blog.  My life has been both really busy and really uneventful -- I don't have much time to write and what I have to write about doesn't seem interesting.  If you want to see some work-related things I'm writing, though, keep an eye on the Grassroots Leadership blog and Texas Prison Bid'ness.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how my life could have unrolled if I had been born into a different situation.  I see everyday how mental illness and economic access interact, both in my work and personal life.

The US is completely unequipped to deal with people with mental illness.  I am so, so blessed to belong to a family that had the wealth and ability to take care of a daughter with a serious mental illness; without their resources, I would have ended up like most of us –  homeless or in prison.

Without a mother and father who were able and willing to intervene early in my life, I doubt I would have finished high school, much less attended college.  I would have dropped out and tried to support myself with whatever work I could find, if I could keep it.  Because of my father’s health insurance, I’m able to afford expensive prescriptions and personalized treatment, but I could have just of easily tried to self medicate with illegal drugs.

Just one drug offense could have landed me in jail – if I had been born Hispanic or African American, the chances of my using would have been equal, but the odds of me being incarcerated for the same offense would be seven times greater.  The mental health services available to people in prisons are abysmal, especially in underfunded states like Alabama and Texas; without the psychiatric intervention I received at age twenty and the constant vigilance, I could have been a “trouble maker” and be sent to administrative segregation.  I would be kept twenty four hours a day in a small cell without psychiatric help, fresh air or sunlight, room to move, or meaningful human contact.

After being released from prison or jail, US Americans are ineligible for social services and can be legally discriminated against for jobs.  The rate of recidivism in this country is astounding – two thirds of people return to prison after being released.  Even if I managed to stay out of prison, I would have no governmental assistance and probably wouldn’t be able to get a job.  I would be homeless and mentally ill, like a third of the people living on the street.

My parents’ wealth – not my own abilities – bought my ticket to a secure, comfortable life.  In fact, without their wealth, my abilities would be useless, lost under a tenuous grasp on reality rather than buttressed by a first-class education.

I profoundly wish that other people in the chemically imbalanced boat had the same opportunities that I have.  Instead I’m face to face with a system so intrinsically unjust that I feel like I’m emptying a pool with a tea spoon.  It’s enough to drive a person crazy.

Check out Presbyterian Serious Mental Illness Network for information and some great resources.