In my short 15 minutes inside, the flickering florescent light really got to me. Even when I closed my eyes I was aware of the unnatural light flashing on my eyelids. The wild, tortured, vaguely human sounds and loud metallic banging conspired with the light to make me feel like my senses were under attack. I thought maybe I would meditate or pray, but I couldn't. I thought maybe I would spend my time in thought, but somehow there was no room for thought. I felt too full of sadness and noise. It felt as if the world was closing in on me... or as if I was drifting from it, off into the suffocating darkness of space.
~ Rev. Drew Paton, Spencertown, NY, participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
You would go crazy, I think, even if you went in w/ considerable emotional and spiritual resources, and I doubt that very many people are in that category. Really. What do we expect to accomplish w/ this? What is the point? I tried to pray for all the voices I heard in there.
~ Anonymous participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
I spent 10 minutes in the cell. I was hesitant to do this as I suffer from the after effects of PTSD having been kidnapped and detained against my will in a foreign country. It was a very difficult experience and during that time 10 minutes felt like an hour. I was worried that I would have a flash back or experience some sort of anxiety. I had time to reflect while my husband was in for 10 minutes and realized that 10 minutes regardless of past trauma was nothing in comparison to those who spend years in this isolation. To help avoid any feelings of panic, I began to hum the melody of a variety of hymns, both uplifting and somber. I found it to be very soothing because the rhythm somehow lined up with the sounds that I was hearing outside of the cell. It reminded me of Paul from the Bible singing while in prison. I had always seen that as a revolutionary act, but now I see that everyone is human and it is human to find a way to adapt to ones surroundings whatever they may be.
When I began to come to the end of a tune, I felt for a moment how easy it would be to slip in the realm of madness and despair. To feel an immediate need to fend that feeling off after a matter of minutes, I cannot imagine how difficult it is for so many to hold on to that peace for such a long time. I cannot imagine this experience will leave me in the near future and plan on writing letters to those in forced isolation as long as it is necessary. Before this experience, I would have thought how little that would mean to people in confinement....that it would feel patronizing and awkward to try and show compassion in a letter to a stranger. I now see that that type of compassion may be the only thing that can bring hope and humanity to a person that is suffering on a moment to moment basis and quite possible on the verge of insanity. I would not be above that fate should I be forced to spend more than a few days in such a room.
~ Jacqueline W., participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
I spent 10 minutes in the cell. I thought I would start by doing pushups, so I did 10 pushups. Then I laid on the bed. Then I paced the room. The neon light was flickering which was messing with my eyes. At a certain point, it seemed to stop flickering, but I wasn't sure if it had actually stopped flickering or if I had just gotten used to it. I started pacing more. I looked at the picture on the door which depicted the cells down the hallway and I thought of how surreal it looked. So cold and lacking anything organic. Just metal. Harsh colors of white and red. At several points I thought that my ten minutes had to be up, but it wasn't. So then I starting trying to count the cinder blocks on the walls. But I couldn't keep track of how many I had counted and I would recount them, and then lose track of my count, I think because of the banging sounds. I started to feel claustrophobic and hyperventilated a little. Just kind of a feeling like it was harder to breathe. Then I paced some more. Then I tried counting the cinder blocks again, but I couldn’t concentrate and keep my count. I started to think that maybe my wife had told the woman to keep me in the cell for her 10 minutes as well (she was scheduled after me), but then I thought, “well they wouldn't do that without asking me right”. So it was almost like a paranoia, which I realized was irrational. I kept looking at the door expecting it to open, but it didn't. Then when it did, I left and felt really disoriented.
~ John W., participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
The constant noise piped into the cell—howling, banging, screaming—was disorienting. It's very difficult to imagine being in solitary 23 hours a day for days or weeks or months on end. I can understand why some people spend most of their day in solitary sleeping. The loneliness, boredom, and sense of abandonment is profound. Even in the short time I was in the cell I realized I had lost track of time and wondered if I had been forgotten!
~ Jim Winkler, National Council of Churches
At Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
I spent about two minutes in the cell and the one thing I was struck by was the lack of sunlight because there were no windows. The noise was mind-altering and I cannot imagine anyone being locked away, deliberately, for years. While in the cell, I said a prayer for all those confined and to end this kind of torture, Come, Holy Spirit!
~ Carolyn D. Townes, OFS, JPIC Animator, U.S. Secular Franciscan Order
At Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
I was only in there for one minute and after about 15 seconds (I counted) I had had enough. The noise, the light, the solitude had already started gnawing on my consciousness. How would I sleep, how would I pass time, how would I survive? I couldn't, I wouldn't. I would be broken
~ Adam M., participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
I began to lose my sense of balance at just 2 minutes in the cell. My handwriting was deteriorating, and my body felt like it was buzzing. I tried to pray, but the lights burned in, the noises were nonstop and disorienting. It would take great faith to make it through something like that. The 2 minutes seemed like five. Imagine spending a month in there. Or longer.
~ Karen R., participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
This is madness in a box. Noise is unending and the unrelenting light gives me a headache. The ceiling feels like it is starting to fall in on me. How will I ever sleep or find peace in this lonely chaos. My 15 minutes of time in this cell feels far longer. I thought I had been forgotten. I am lucky in that I wasn't. I must not forget those who are living this experience day in and day out. They are being tortured.
~ Kara G., participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
It was pretty jarring to be in the replica cell, even just for 5 minutes. I could hear conversations outside the walls and I knew I was at a conference in a hotel, but the sound inside the cell was disorienting. Hearing the sounds of banging and voices that sounded more animal than human upset my own sense of who my peers in solitary would be. The bright florescent light felt so institutional. I can imagine how one would lose all sense of time and space and self in an environment like this.
~ Anonymous participant at Ecumenical Advocacy Days, April 17-20, 2015
|
|
Torture in U.S. Prisons 