#incarceration

[onlytiktoks]

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2026/06/01/put-microchips-in-prisoners-to-track-them-tech-bosses/

[polliantics]

The power to incarcerate or detain people is one of the most serious powers a government has. It should never be delegated to for-profit corporations like Geo group, whose obligation is to maximize profit. Incarceration should not be driven by corporate profit. The government should not be outsourcing the deprivation of liberty and constitutional rights to private companies.

[onlytiktoks]

[tradewindsjournal]

Hijrah House Magazine Volume 3

Released for Eid: Why the First Bed After Prison May Decide Everything

The summer-like heat of late Spring settled heavily across the parking lot as she stepped out after years inside.

In one hand was a clear plastic property bag holding prison paperwork, folded letters, and a Qur’an with softened corners from repeated reading. In the other was a bus ticket and a phone with only a few working numbers saved inside.

Cars passed without noticing her.

Families across America were preparing for Eid al-Adha. Children were trying on new clothes. Grocery carts filled with rice, lamb, desserts, and soda. Masajid prepared for crowded prayer lines and takbeerat echoing through parking lots before sunrise.

But standing outside those prison gates, none of that felt close to her.

Freedom means very little when a woman has nowhere safe to sleep that night.

For thousands of formerly incarcerated women across America, release is not the end of punishment. It is often the beginning of uncertainty.

Many leave prison carrying far more than bags.

They leave carrying trauma.

Broken family relationships.

Addiction histories.

Fear.

Embarrassment.

Parole restrictions.

Unpaid fines.

Mental exhaustion.

And sometimes the painful realization that there may not be anyone willing to let them come home.

Women face unique challenges after incarceration. Many are mothers attempting to reconnect with children while simultaneously trying to secure employment, transportation, identification, counseling, and housing all within the first few days of release.

The pressure can become overwhelming almost immediately.

One missed appointment can trigger violations.

One unstable environment can reopen old addictions.

One desperate night can restart an old cycle.

Prison release is often treated like the finish line when in reality it may be the most dangerous mile of the entire journey.

According to organizations studying reentry and incarceration, unstable housing remains one of the strongest predictors of recidivism. Formerly incarcerated individuals experiencing homelessness or housing insecurity face dramatically higher risks of unemployment, relapse, rearrest, and emotional instability.

That is why the first bed after prison may matter more than most people realize.

Not luxury.

Not comfort beyond imagination.

Just safety.

A clean room.

A locked door.

A shower.

A quiet place to sleep without fear.

Transitional housing provides something many returning citizens have not experienced in years: stability long enough to think clearly.

Without that stability, survival mode takes over quickly.

A woman may spend her first 48 hours after release trying to charge a phone, find transportation, avoid unsafe people from her past, secure medication, locate food, and figure out where she will sleep before the sun goes down.

Exhaustion makes bad decisions feel reasonable.

But transitional housing changes the equation.

A structured home creates breathing room.

Residents gain time to search for employment without panic. They receive accountability, mentorship, transportation assistance, and emotional support while adjusting to life outside prison walls.

Something as small as knowing dinner is already handled can completely change how a person approaches the rest of the day.

That is why the support of transitional housing programs like Hijrah House matters.

Organizations like Hijrah House exist to interrupt the cycle before it begins again. Not simply by providing shelter, but by creating space for emotional recovery, employment readiness, stability, dignity, and spiritual grounding during one of the most vulnerable periods of a person’s life.

And as America debates incarceration endlessly, far less attention is paid to what happens after release.

We tell returning citizens to rebuild their lives while denying them the foundation every rebuilding project requires.

Housing.

Structure.

Community.

Safety.

In many ways, Hajj is a journey to the House of Allaah, a difficult path marked by sacrifice, humility, reflection, and the hope of returning renewed.

Transitional homes like Hijrah House represent a different kind of journey: a path toward stability, accountability, and redemption after incarceration.

One is a journey toward spiritual purification.

The other is often a journey toward rebuilding a life that nearly collapsed under the weight of mistakes, addiction, poverty, trauma, abuse, or imprisonment.

Both begin with the difficult decision to leave an old life behind and walk toward something better.

As Eid al-Adha approaches, support from the community helps make that work possible.

Every donation, partnership, shared resource, employment lead, or word of encouragement helps expand transitional housing opportunities for both men and women seeking a real second chance after incarceration.

Because successful reentry does not begin at the prison gate.

Sometimes it begins with something as simple, and as powerful, as knowing where you will sleep tonight.

[inmateplaymate]

Love Is even better behind bars 😉😍😂🤣

[april-is]

April 25, 2026: A Strange Feeling, Nâzim Hikmet

A Strange Feeling Nâzim Hikmet

“The plum trees are in bloom —the wild apricot flowers first, the plum last —

My love, let’s sit face to face on the grass. The air is delicious and light —but not really warm yet— the almond shells are green and fuzzy, still very soft . . .

We’re happy because we’re alive, We’d probably have been killed long ago if you were in London, if I were in Tobruk or on an English freighter . . .

Put your hands on your knees, my love —your wrists thick and white— and open your left hand: the daylight is inside your palm like an apricot . . . Of the people killed in yesterday’s air raid, about one hundred were under five, twenty-four still babies . . .

I love the color of pomegranate seeds, my love —a pomegranate seed, seed of light— I like melons tart . . .”

. . . . . . a rainy day far from fruits and you —not a single tree has bloomed yet, and there’s even a chance of snow— in Bursa Prison, carried away by a strange feeling and about to explode, I write this out of pigheadedness— out of sheer spite — for myself and for the people I love.

2.7.1941

----

(Written during the Turkish poet's 1938-1950 political imprisonment for supporting Communism.)

Also by Nâzim Hikmet: It’s This Way

More like this:  + On Being Asked To Write A Poem Against The War In Vietnam, Hayden Carruth  + from Understory, Craig Santos Perez  + We Lived Happily During the War, Ilya Kaminsky  + Easter, Jill Alexander Essbaum  + The Conditional, Ada Limón  + The Crunch, Charles Bukowski

Previously on Poetry Month Poems for People Who Read Poetry:

2025: a remix for remembrance, Kristiana Rae Colón 2024: from Moon for Aisha, Aracelis Girmay 2023: Still Life with Nursing Bra, Keetje Kuipers 2022: A Small-Sized Mystery, Jane Hirshfield 2021: Prayer for My Unborn Niece or Nephew, Ross Gay 2020: Vigil, Phillis Levin 2019: Nights in the Neighborhood, Linda Gregg 2018: I Dreamed Again, Anne Michaels 2017: wishes for sons, Lucille Clifton 2016: Told You So, Keetje Kuipers 2015: Accident, Mass. Ave., Jill McDonough 2014: This Hour and What Is Dead, Li-Young Lee 2013: To Myself, Franz Wright 2012: Manet’s Olympia, Margaret Atwood 2011: Three Rivers, Alpay Ulku 2010: Ode to Hangover, Dean Young 2009: We become new, Marge Piercy 2008: The Only Animal, Franz Wright 2007: Dream Song 385, John Berryman 2006: The Quiet World, Jeffrey McDaniel 2005: Man and Wife, Robert Lowell

[myalgias]

The story of Camelott Hamblett and why he’s spent two decades locked in a room alone at this Ontario psychiatric hospital

Hamblett may be the one Ontarian who’s spent the most time in psychiatric seclusion. In a four-part series, the Star investigates who’s resp

i felt so sick reading this but i’m glad something is finally being done to help Hamblett and his family