By susieday / COUNTERPUNCH+
Recently in New York State, prison guards, largely to counter media exposés of their brutalities—like the beating death of Robert Brooks at Marcy Correctional Facility last December—staged a wildcat strike. The strike left thousands of prisoners locked for weeks inside cold cells, cut off from food, showers, medicine, visits. The strike is over now; the guards have basically won. But, during the strike, at least nine incarcerated people died of beatings or medical neglect. Phillip Nieves was one of those incarcerated who lived through it.
Phillip’s sister, Lisette Nieves, lived through it, as well. She went to work, paid her bills, navigated the frantic life of New York City. She’s gotten good at this: Phil has been in prison since Lisette was 12; she is now 54. Part of a large Puerto Rican family in the Bronx, Lisette is one of millions of seemingly “ordinary” people who love someone in prison. Most of them live, slightly isolated from the world, in a sort of invisible lockup. Incarcerated people, ignored as they usually are, are still relatively easy to learn about. But how do we know their loved ones? First, by listening to them...