Polunsky Unit, Livingston, Texas
8 years in solitary / ad seg
Dillion
COMPTON
August 2, 2024
Words by DILLION COMPTON
Photography by TEXAS LETTERS
My friend,
After multiple cycles of watching friends be executed, over 5 years time, this current cycle in 2024 had me wondering, “After so much loss, why do we keep trying to connect with ‘new’ people?” The light that the men executed in 2024 brought to death row reached virtually the whole population - we all had some personal connections. Those connections formed in part because of how many years the men in white spent on the row - generally 20+ years. In 20+ years time, a man in white on the row is typically known by everyone on the row (not counting newcomers).
In the wake of the execution of Ramiro Gonzales, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine all the faces of my friend executed since 2018. Every face that materialized prompted memories dear to me, reminding me of what I needed to preserve as a faithful caretaker. Then I searched my heart, I meditated on my favorite quotes, and I resolved why I continue to strive for new connections. (Despite the pain from loss after loss)
Before I reveal my resolution, which is an inexhaustable log for a dying fire of hope, let me recount a conversation with my fellow prisoner on the row. I asked my friend (who has been on the row for 23 years), “Man, what makes you keep connecting with people after losing so many people you care about?” He didn’t immediately answer, but instead said, “I don’t know how to answer that…give me a minute to think about it.” Once 5 minutes and some change went by, he stopped pacing around the dayroom, called me back to my door, and said, “I guess all I can say is I can’t help but to care about the shit I care about. I refuse to ignore somebody that’s hungry or suffering when I know I can do something about it. That’s just how I am.” My friend is black and buddhist - and he tapped into a sentiment I reflect.
Let me string some pearls: “I know what the caged bird feels! I know why the caged bird beats his wing Till its blood is red on the bough-a-swing; And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting - I know why he beats his wing!” - Paul Laurence Dunbar, Sympathy. “Here I stand, I can not do otherwise. God help me. Amen.” - Martin Luther (April 18th, 1521; facing potential execution). “You have to have the courage to be who you are no matter where you are.” - Brené Brown Braving The Wilderness. I have the courage to suffer for the things I believe in. - Abert Woodfox, Solitary.
As pearls (such as mentioned) began to string together in my mind, the imagery of Paul Laurence Dunbar’s bird became symbolic of the consequences of character & courage. Why would a bird bruise its bosom and bloody its wings against the bars? Because it is who it is no matter where it is! Some people would characterize Dunbar’s bird as rebellious or incorrigible, but I see courageous resolve!
“Human beings are wired for connection.” - Bessel Van Der Kolk The Body Keeps The Score. In consideration of what’s known about our collective humanity, biology suggests our brains crave connection with other human beings. So regardless of personality differences, our anatomy has a natural disposition to connection with our fellow human beings. With all of the foregoing in mind, I resolved to be who I am no matter where I am - which is why continuing to connect with people is like placing a log on a dying fire. Even Christians, Jews, and Muslims will tell you that God himself said that it was not good for man to be alone. (Genesis 2:18)
Hope should not be underestimated. Cameron Willingham was executed by the state of Texas February 17th, 2004, roughly 14 years before I came to the row. Cameron was also exonerated due to new advances in forensic science after his execution. A man I spoke to that knew Cameron said that Cameron never gave up hope, and that Cameron believed his claim of innocence would eventually be validated. As it happened, his validation came post-execution. Having learned about Cameron’s case, I thought of the men I met who also have innocence claims active in the courts. Those men stare down ostensible pantomimes, because Texas has already preached it enough: “To show you that killing is wrong, we’re going to kill you.” Cameron faced those ‘mimes too, and his hope overcame fear. Likewise, it is hope that the courts will validate the innocent that continues to overcome the fear of death and the Texas pantomimes.
You may be wondering, “Who are the Texas pantomimes you’re talking about?” They are the agents of the execution process in Texas. Say for instance that you watched said agents carry out the process of executing somebody (without hearing any words), then you’d actually witness a murder. The actions without words are clear, and seeing as how “Texas kills the killers,” they became killers. I think the majority of society has accepted and applauded killing people for the consensus “right” reasons. Folks in the “Bible Belt” even get irate when I mention that Jesus Christ taught his followers to not kill people, but to trust in God’s vengeance. The Jews practicing/abiding by the Old Covenant law utilized the death penalty; some even orchestrating Jesus’ crucifixion. However, Jesus never taught his disciples to kill anyone - instead he taught them to love one’s enemies and to do good to those who did evil to them. (New Covenant standard) Thus in truth, pro-death penalty people believe in vengence via justifying murder. Texas ’mimes can put a new face on the argument all they want, their actions speak loud.
As for non-religious people that staunchly believe in retribution and revenge, some guys on the row are like that too. (If someone attempted to kill them, they probably would attempt to kill them too, so they’re not so different.) However, many guys here that I’ve met are not the same people they once were, their growth and transformation is self-evident. Yet it seems that the value in their growth is only ever appraised by people willing to notice them. When going un-noticed has become routine, guys expect a former version of themselves to be all that people are accustomed to seeing. What I don’t fully understand is why the people engaged in death penalty politics don’t reach out to the men on the row and have a conversation about about their questions and feelings. I mean, who else would know what someone really wanted to know if they had a question about why something happened? (There is more social justice and restorative justice in a conversation like that than never knowing why something happened (in my opinion).) Sadly, the people with the most questions never even try to ask questions or express their feelings one-on-one. (Trust me, I know.)
Hope is also present in unassuming symbolism. Like me, many men on the row have possessions left behind by other men that were executed - gifts of their will. My gifts remind me of 5 men no longer alive, but still active in my thoughts. One particular book that sits by my desk was gifted to me by a close friend executed in 2023; when I see it, I remember him laughing in a memory. Without question, other men on the row have a similar experience of mementos and memorials, memories and reverie. A unique aspect of all of this is that we all go through these experiences together for years. One man may have over 30 gifts of the will, representing 30 men executed. What do you think he sees when he looks around his cell? A community, my friend - investments that live on; like coals on a fire still smoldering.
I would be remiss if I did not highlight the volunteers that come to the row to share their time, fellowship, and love. Around 2021 volunteers were finally allowed to come visit us and share church services. Along with field ministers, volunteers facilitated a culture change on the row, prompting many to convert to Christianity. These volunteers had wanted to come for decades, and it wasn’t until a new warden came, Daniel Dickerson, that the door was opened. With all those new connections, spirituality increased, hope inflamed anew, and people in the free-world felt the love from men on the row.
Love…from men on the row; does that sound like an oxymoron? “If you took the fish out of the pool and put him in a pond, have you taken away his ability to swim? His gift went with him even though you fired him from the pool.” - Dr. Myles Monroe. You see, the location of where we exercise our gift may change, but we don’t lose our gift. (A nod to Dr. Monroe) Love is a gift my friend and the greatest power that human beings can experience.
I have strung so many pearls together to demonstrate the value of being connected and being who you are. The need for connection doesn’t stop at a prison gate, or reach a period at a death sentence. No, when I go to visitation and pass by booths filled with men and their visitors, it’s like passing replenished bonfires growing two-way.
Solitary on the row differs from solitary in restrictive housing (Ad-seg) community-wise, but not in the experience of seeing a different shade of grey. The men in white all know that “discretion” is TDCJ’s swiss-army knife. When double meanings are incorporated into policy & practice, discretion and strict adherence, then lived-experience becomes the decoder of such riddles. My friend, no system can be “just” when systematic corruption is embraced as as professional discretion. TDCJ employees wear confederate-grey uniforms, but their “discretion” is truly a different shade of grey. When a guard says, “The truth is what I say it is offender,” or, “I was trained to never take an inmate’s side over my officer’s side - we protect our own,” we see a different shade of grey. One day such discretion is a norm, then when someone gets fired for that same discretion, it suddenly gets declared a violation of policy. Once guys in white experience the merry-go-round of TDCJ’s discretion, they eventually realize that the only rules that are enforceable are based on the enforcers themselves. (So rules are rules unless the enforcer of the rules uses discretion to not enforce a rule. Vice versa, an enforcer’s pet-peeves also suddenly become rules.)
Perhaps the description of how men in white see a different shade of grey helps you to understand our shared experience in solitary. (I hope it does) This is why we on the row can celebrate (now director) Daniel Dickerson’s work as a warden, and outcry his decision to testify against a man at his death penalty trial as a TDCJ-expert witness. Likewise, when a new warden replaces the head warden, it’s expected that some rules will be changed to fit his/her administrative philosophy. (Think of it as a “King/Queen of the castle” affect) Thus, solitary life is analogous to balloon-animals: pressured, shaped, and displaced; and at the core, still the same substance. From unit to unit, solitary is a different animal, because of each unit’s makeup & administration. Yet, in solidarity with men and women across the system, I hope you now see a different shade of grey.
Perspective, attitude, and environment work together to determine my reality. By simply allowing myself to know what I know, I developed the courage to become transcendent to the reality of my environment. To illustrate said transcendence, consider what I told one of my friends: “If 6 men ran into a house, beat up the resident, and stole his belongings, those men would be considered robbers and thieves. A D.A. could charge those 6 men with burglary, assault, or even organized crime. Now, what if those 6 men were prison guards and the man assaulted was an inmate, and the inmate’s property was stolen? Is it still a crime if the behavior of the guards is the same as the other 6 men?” - Amazingly, man people (including my friends) reply to this scenario by saying, “Well…he’s an inmate, so it’s different.” But man…I’m here to say that “inmate” experiences the same feelings as the man robbed and beaten by 6 men! What’s wrong with acknowledging that both men were equally victimized by the same conduct? Conduct (regardless of justification) affects human beings similarly, just as medication affects human bodies similarly, which is why a crime still feels like a crime when the conduct is the same. (Physiologically)
Maybe some day you will be disconnected from those you love or from your community. Should that day ever come, remember this letter my friend. In modern times, right here in a place of death and isolation, we can be looked to as inspiration to find strength and hope in your daily life. Do not give up without a struggle.
In solidarity,
Dillion Compton