There are so many things I liked about this book! In 2004, Piper Kerman spent a year in a women's prison for a decade-old drug offense. Her memoir is thoughtful, enlightening and, at times, humorous. I'm not surprised it was adapted into a successful TV series on Netflix -- it's a perfect fish-out-of-water story.
Piper -- who is a white, upper-middle class college graduate from Boston -- is upfront about how stupid she was in her early 20s. In 1993, Piper was hanging out with a woman, Nora, who bragged that she was working for a West African drug dealer. Nora's job was to fly to various countries to help smuggle drugs and money, and she invited Piper to Indonesia to "keep her company." At first it was a bacchanalia in Bali: "days and nights of sunbathing, drinking, and dancing all hours." However, Piper was eventually asked to help pick up money wires at banks, and then to fly to Brussels carrying a suitcase of drug money.
"For four months of my life, I traveled constantly with Nora, occasionally touching down in the States for a few days. We lived a life of relentless tension, yet it was also often crushingly boring. I had little to do, other than keep Nora company while she dealt with her 'mules.' I would roam the streets of strange cities all alone. I felt disconnected from the world even as I was seeing it, a person without a person or place. This was not the adventure I craved. I was lying to my family about every aspect of my life and growing sick and tired of my adopted drug 'family.'"
Eventually Piper was able to separate herself from Nora and settled in San Francisco, where she met her future husband, Larry. Piper says she didn't tell anyone about her crime experience; she was ashamed of it and thought it was all behind her. Five years later, she and Larry had moved to New York and were settling in to new jobs when two police officers showed up at her apartment and informed her that she had been charged with drug smuggling and money laundering. Thus began her "long, torturous expedition through the labyrinth of the U.S. criminal justice system."
Because Piper had been named as a co-conspirator in a massive court case that involved an African drug kingpin, it took years to reach a settlement. Finally, Piper was sentenced to 15 months in prison, and in February 2004 she self-surrendered at the women's prison in Danbury, Connecticut.
"I had only the most tenuous idea of what might happen next, but I knew that I would have to be brave. Not foolhardy, not in love with risk and danger, not making ridiculous exhibitions of myself to prove that I wasn't terrified -- really, genuinely brave. Brave enough to be quiet when quiet was called for, brave enough to observe before flinging myself into something, brave enough to not abandon my true self when someone else wanted to seduce or force me in a direction I didn't want to go, brave enough to stand my ground quietly."
Slowly, Piper learns the rules and routine of prison life. This is the most fascinating part of the book because not much is written about women in prison -- most stories are told from the man's point of view. Before surrendering, Piper had read some books about how to survive prison, but even those were all written for men.
One of the first things Piper noticed is how the inmates were grouped into "tribes," based mostly on race. "When a new person arrived, their tribe -- white, black, Latino or the few and far between 'others' -- would immediately make note of their situation, get them settled, and steer them through their arrival. If you fell into that 'other' category -- Native American, Asian, Middle Eastern -- then you got a patchwork welcome committee of the kindest and most compassionate women from the dominant tribes."
Piper joked that living in a women's dormitory in college helped prepare her for prison life, because navigating the gossip, rules and social customs was critical to getting along. Piper made some friends and mostly steered clear of troublemakers.
The memoir is critical of America's prisons, pointing out the serious flaws in our criminal justice system. Piper's attorney had warned her that the hardest thing about prison would be following all of the "chickenshit rules enforced by chickenshit people." And that advice was proven true over and over again. Piper described inappropriate behavior by male guards toward female prisoners, but said that if an inmate complains, she gets sent to solitary confinement until the issue gets sorted out, which could takes days or even weeks. Meanwhile, the inmate is essentially being punished for being a whistleblower, so Piper said inmates were reluctant to complain, and some guards would take advantage of that.
"It is hard to conceive of any relationship between two adults in America being less equal than that of prisoner and prison guard. The formal relationship, enforced by the institution, is that one person's word means everything and the other's means almost nothing; one person can command the other to do just about anything, and refusal can result in total physical restraint. That fact is like a slap in the face. Even in relation to the people who are anointed with power in the outside world -- cops, elected officials, soldiers -- we have rights within our interactions. We have a right to speak to power, though we may not exercise it. But when you step behind the walls of a prison as an inmate, you lose that right. It evaporates, and it's terrifying."
Another criticism Piper has is how the so-called war on drugs has bloated America's prisons, yet there are hardly any helpful re-entry programs for inmates who are returning to the outside world. Housing an inmate is expensive, and Piper noted that many people would have been better off and more productive doing community service, such as working with drug addicts, than wasting time in prison: "But our current criminal justice system has no provision for restorative justice, in which an offender confronts the damage they have done and tries to make it right to the people they have harmed. (I was lucky to get there on my own, with the help of the women I met.) Instead, our system of 'corrections' is about arm's-length revenge and retribution, all day and all night. Then its overseers wonder why people leave prison more broken than when they went in."
Piper's 15 months slowly tick by, and one of her coping strategies is to take up running and yoga. She would run several miles each day and do stretches when she was stressed out. Just when she had a good groove going and her release was only a few months away, she got the bad news that she had to go to Chicago to testify in a trial against another drug dealer. Piper was angry because she didn't even know the guy on trial, and the prison conditions in Chicago were horrible. For the first time during her incarceration, she called Larry and begged him to get her out of there. Suddenly, Danbury didn't seem so bad.
Luckily she survived her stay in Chicago and was finally released. The bio on the bookjacket says Piper is now a vice-president for a communications firm that works with nonprofit organizations. Good for her.
If you couldn't tell from all the quotes I included, I loved this book. I would highly recommend it to anyone interested in the criminal justice system, or anyone who loves a good memoir.