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Involved
Involved is a fictionalized story, based on true events, about the people on the outside - the family, friends, and loved ones who navigate life alongside those who are incarcerated. Mixing moments of humor and heartbreak, the series explores resilience, love, and the far-reaching impact of incarceration on those inside, those outside who love them, and the broader community.
In Season one of "Involved" we’re introduced to Myra, whose husband’s incarceration at a medium and minimum security prison impacts every aspect of her life. We follow along with her to the prison for visits, as she launches prison wife radio, and reveals the day-to-day complexities of supporting a loved one who is incarcerated. From early episodes where Myra shares her experiences of visiting her husband at prison, to later episodes when he transitions into work release, Myra’s life as a prison wife is explored through candid reflections and intimate anecdotes shedding light on the profound impact of incarceration not only on her husband but also on their relationship and their shared past. In each of the twelve episodes, Myra confronts societal stigma and challenges prevailing narratives about incarceration, advocating for empathy and understanding towards those impacted by the criminal justice system - and making the case that we are ALL impacted in some way or another. Involved is educational, entertaining, and heartfelt while reminding us the System is most definitely the villain.
Involved
Episode 9: The Case of the Contraband Jalapeño
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In Episode 9, Myra's discussing the consequences her husband faces for possessing a contraband jalapeño in prison.
Check out friends of the show Hard Bedded Women Band at: https://www.hardbeddedwomenband.com/
Stream their song Investment Banker's Daughter (Better Version) wherever you listen to music. Here are a few options: Spotify, Apple Music, Pandora, SoundCloud, YouTube Music
Credits:
Myra: La Tisha Conto
Myra's Husband: Ronald Auguste
To continue learning about the experiences of families impacted by incarceration and the broader issues we touched on today, check out our website: Https://InvolvedPod.com
There you can find our reading/learning recommendations, learn how to support the show, and check out other episodes.
Intro
Myra: 50 days until my husband comes home, but it’s not going to be 50 days after tomorrow. It will jump to 80 days tomorrow. Why, Myra, why is that happening. I can already hear your fingers typing the at me on twitter. Emailing me. Texting me. You know I have a story for you. This is the case of the Jalapeno that costs 10 soup packets, 50 dollars to a street contact, and um… 30 days goodtime.
Him: Worth it.
Myra: He would definitely think so. The story starts like this.
Myra: Beans, Rice, Meat Stick, Cheese sauce, chips. Beans Rice, meat stick cheese sauce, chips. Beans, rice, meat stick, cheese sauce, chips.
Myra: My husband has essentially been eating the same food for almost two decades. Week in, week out. Chow is the same, store is the same, food packages are the same. So, even the snacks get pretty redundant.
Myra: So you can imagine the delight, and awe an incarcerated person may experience when the sustainable farming program shows up and lays down roots. Actual roots, from real vegetables. Vegetables growing at a prison? It’s like placing a bucket of ice water in the middle of a desert. It’s tempting. It’s taunting. My husband hadn’t hadn’t seen a fresh jalapeno in more than 18 years. And so naturally, a guy who knows a guy working out at the vegetable farm offers a jalapeno in exchange for soup packets and 50 bucks street, of course he says yes because imagine it’s all of a sudden.
Myra: Beans, rice, meat stick. Cheese sauce, chips, Jalapeño. Now we’re talking some fucking nachos.
Myra: Of course, a cell search that night finds the contraband Jalapeno and sends him to the hole. Do I think it’s a coincidence he’s got a cell search that night. No. Short time is scary time, remember. People are going to settle their debts. But do I think that the person who sold him the Jalapeno was a ratatoni? No. And if your wife is listening right now, please don’t feel anxious. We don’t think you had anything to do with it. Of course I wouldn’t name names because now I know how much the cops fucking love to listen to prison wife radio.
Myra: Let’s move on from the Jalapeno, and talk about the infraction.
Myra: All my 101 intro to prison students know. Infraction… Hole… Hearing… Guilty. Rinse and repeat. They always find him guilty. They always take him to the hole. He’s been to the hole so much it’s hard to keep up with what for.
Myra: He’s been taken for out of bounds. (fast like side effects in a pharma commercial) being in an area of the prison incarcerated people arent’ allowed. Failing to program. Failing to produce urine within an hour of a UA test. Extra books in his cell. Extra toiletries in his cell. Extra anything in his cell. Not snitching. Not yarding in. Fighting. Fighting. Fighting. Not snitching on who was fighting. Investigations. Separatee. Being on the yard when a riot broke out. Not snitiching on who started the riot. Not snitching on who stabbed an incarcerated person in the chowhall. Performing surgery in a cell on a celly. (disclaimer: surgery was fully consented to by celly.) There’s more but you get the picture. In almost two decades of incarceration he’s been taken to the hole easily more than 50 times. But this time was by far the dumbest.
Myra: A jalapeno in his cell. A motherfucking Jalapeno. Had to pack up all his shit, be in solitary for a week waiting for some stupid hearing, all because of a fucking Jalapeno.
Myra: Yesterday was the first time I saw him. Seg visits are brutal because they are no contact. He’s shackled, with belly chain and leg restraints. The cuffs were so tight on his wrists his hands were purple. He shuffled in, picked up the phone and held it to his ear as best he could between his ear and his shoulder. I have seen this before, a few times, and it never gets easier. To sit on the other side of glass, and watch as your loved one is shackled, struggling for circulation, but is happier than you’ve ever seen them because you are there. It breaks your heart. This is happening because a vegetable deprived brain wanted a vegetable. It’s inhumane. Indefensible. And I would add that the sustainability project may want to consider how much misery they contribute by placing a bucket in the desert and cosigning punishment for anybody who touches the forbidden water. I know they feel like they’re doing a great thing by teaching incarcerated individuals to farm, but if the population can’t eat what they’re farming how good is that thing that you are doing. Maybe use your power to lobby government to go back to having real food in prison. Otherwise, this just feels like another way that a grad student at some university gets to apply for grants to create a program in a prison and check off the box on their resume that says ‘I did so good.’
Myra: That’s it for today. If I keep going I am going to say some things that hurt the feelings of people who really are just trying their best. But when your best is propping up a brutal system, I am sorry it’s not actually your best. That’s all. I’ll see you next time when I’ll talk to you about work release and getting ready for him to almost come home. But since I’m here, maybe we’ll end it with a little song from friends of the show, my favorite band, Hard Bedded Women. They are knee deep in their Scammers and Scrammers tour. Check them out, link is in the show notes, and without further adu this one's called Investment Banker's Daughter.
Song: Investment Banker's Daughter plays us out.
Lyrics to Investment Banker's Daughter:
I was born an investment bankers daughter
And my daddy taught me how to make
Something outta nothin
He said if you lie low
No one will ever know
And when they do all you have to do is
Blame the regulation
I was born an investment bankers daughter
My daddy taught me how to put
A price on everything
Let the money speak
When the stock is cheap (when the stock is cheap)
Shame, he didn’t take stock
In me
In 88 my daddy’s fate was decided by the voters in new York state
His running mate was a small town snake who hailed from southern waters
He gave me my first guitar
Said we wouldn’t get too far
Less the voters thought we were country
Just like them
I was born an investment bankers daughter
And i'll die a country singer
In an all-girl band
My daddy’s still upstate
But he works makin license plates
Cause he shouldn’t shake his investment banker ways