Reflective Postscript

This has been a difficult story to report, not least of all because of the subject matter. I began this project after having taken two years away from journalism. When I met with my advisor, Dave Cuillier, we talked about possible ideas for a Master's project. The truth is, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I had recently moved back to Tucson and had been immersed in academic work, which does not always translate to readable, journalistic prose. Dave shared with me some reporting and writing he had been involved in around prisons. I knew I wanted to get my hands dirty with some documents, and take a crack at a few Public Records requests. I also was a little familiar with the academic conversation surrounding incarceration and felt that this would play to my strengths. So I decided to work on work within prisons - and see where that took me. 

I made my first public records request to the Arizona Department of Corrections way back on Feb. 7, 2023, asking for "any records relating to the prison work program from the last three years (2019-2022)." After this request, ADOC asked if I would be able to "narrow the request to a certain complex or specific complexes." I agreed, and asked them to narrow my request to the Tucson complex, and to the Informal Complaints. On March 21, the records were released to me. 

I learned three valuable things from this experience. 1) Work with the agency where you made the request- try to get something. I was able to do that. 2) After you've gotten something, try to get more. This is probably my biggest regret when it comes to this story. I should have taken this success, and expanded immediately to other Arizona facilities, and see what I found. Given the 1.5 month turnaround, I realistically could have obtained at least three times as many documents as I ended up with. 3) Come at the documents with an open mind. I knew I wanted to write about labor, but perhaps even that was too limiting. I am curious as to what this project would have looked like if I had simply gotten a hold of as many complaints as possible, and then let those records tell the story. I could have ended up writing about theft of inmate property, unsafe working conditions, or a slew of other issues. I did, however, realize I wanted to write about discrimination. The stories in the documents spoke to me, especially the complaint I use as my story's opener. I tired to imagine how that must have felt: to be incarcerated, to work for much less than the minimum wage, and then to be talked down to based on your race. The simplicity, the everydayness of the complaint, spoke to me. And, with Dave's help, I settled on discrimination.

The other thing I learned was how difficult it can be to report on an agency that, in my estimation, sees no reason to avail itself to journalists. My many attempts to speak with representatives of the prison were ignored. When I finally got a response, it was a message curtly declining to comment.  On the one hand, this is discouraging. On the other, it gave me a real sense of purpose. I felt that if I didn't attempt to tell this story, then it would never be heard. I learned that to truly cover Arizona prisons, in all their obscurity, is a full time job, and my respect for reporters who take on the mission grew immensely.  

I also learned the importance of first hand accounts. Through a combination of luck and persistence I was able to make contact with several formerly and some currently incarcerated people in Arizona prisons. Not all of these conversations made it into the story, but they were extremely useful.  I am currently still messaging an inmate - we've become, as it were, kind of friends. His stories did not make this story, but he messages me once a week asking for updates, and is eager to share more stories. Why wouldn't he? If he doesn't advocate for himself, who else will? I appreciate his bravery. He writes to me knowing his messages are being monitored by the state and, as one person told me, "retaliation is very real." I learned once you start writing about Arizona prisons, the stories multiply, like ants emerging from anthill. To return to the idea of having an open mind: there is probably an hour of audio of me asking Enrique questions about social life in prison, full of fascinating  (and occasionally heart-wrenching) details and anecdotes. I could easily write another story about that alone. Or when John told me about the punishments sometimes doled out to inmates who were perceived to be "making trouble" - another, valuable story, that, for now, I have to leave unreported. 

To sum up, this was a difficult story for a lot reasons: some logistical, some personal. I am grateful I did this, however. I learned investigative journalism is costly and time-consuming. I also learned it is well worth it. There are stories out there. Hard stories, frustrating stories, half-stories, and quarter-stories. But all are  worth telling. We only need to take the time to hear them, if we are to hold power accountable. Investigative journalism isn't the only way to do that, but it is a powerful, dangerous tool, and I now feel prepared to wield it.