Rules, rules, rules. After visiting Brooks Correctional I decided that I don't want to go to prison because they have way too many rules. Plus they don't even serve coffee on a regular basis due to budget cuts. It seemed as if almost half of the inmates who attended the Easter Service were there for the coffee and donuts. I don't even like coffee, but coffee seems so basic being unable to drink it would be a deprivation. So take it from someone has been there, for a little while, don't go to prison for a long time if you like coffee. I didn't bother to ask what tea options were available.
My photographs reflected the strict limits I was under. I could not photograph the prisoners faces, the numbers on their backs and legs, and anything else that could be used to identify them. I think I walked the thin line of photographing nothing and nobody while still making sure no one was identifiable. The last picture pushed the boundary a little bit by showing part of the inmates number, fortunately his number is partially worn off.
This was my first time photographing in a medium security prison. I have photographed in a minimum security prison filled with guys who just seemed a little confused, and guys I knew were convicted murderers in a maximum security prison. But this visit was different. Most of the guys seemed more like homeless people instead of super criminals. I have a new belief that there are probably very few true stories about prison breaks, because I don't think many of the prisoners would have anywhere to go once out of prison. I felt bad that I could not photograph the prisoners, because most of them seemed to want to be photographed and to alk to me. But in prison rules are rules, and I wanted to obey them so they would let me back out, where I can continue to choose to not drink coffee.
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