When They Turn a Cellmate Down
By Portsia Smith Mitchell
As I write this, my husband Dwon Mitchell has 564 days left and he is just trying his best to stay out of the way, out of trouble and make his way back home. There are a lot of gangs, regional cliques, and drugs circulating in prison, so he does his best to keep to himself.
His cellmate is a 66-year-old man from New York serving a single life sentence. He has served 32 years and has no idea what the world is like outside of those bars. For the past few months, Dwon’s cellie has been gearing up for his parole hearing. Dwon has been giving him encouraging words and keeps a Daily Bread magazine in his cell for inspiration. Dwon has been telling him about things we take for granted, like cell phones, social media and good places to eat, which to Cellie is just fascinating.
Dwon has never been one that’s lost for words. Somehow, he always knows what to say to people. He has a way of reaching people that most of us would try to avoid. He even finds a way to keep me positive on my dark days despite his dark location.
Anyway, Cellie went up to his parole hearing last week, and he was denied. Again. I’m not saying one way or another whether Cellie should be released or not. Dwon honestly doesn’t really know what he’s in for. Prison code is that you don’t really talk about your charges. Especially if you’re a child molester. They get NO chill in there. Most will lie to avoid being beat up and losing privileges like using the phone, which the gangs control.
Cellie told Dwon he killed a guy in a drug deal gone wrong back in the 80s. But it’s not like you can research it (I’ve tried), so I’m not sure how true it is. Dwon’s perspective is… what do you say to someone that just got denied everything he had hopes for? How do you share a small space with a man that has nothing to lose? How do you know this self-proclaimed murderer won’t get triggered or reach his breaking point after 32 years?
So, for the past week, Dwon has let him have the cell alone most of the day so he can process all of that, and Dwon has been putting a lot of focus on his artwork. Luckily, he got a job painting murals so he can be out of the pod and away from all the other inmates–including Cellie.
When Dwon was in the hole at St. Bride’s after three guards attacked him, they cut off all communication. So, for 30 days all he had was those 4 walls. Luckily, one of the guards let him have this flexible pen and some paper, and the picture at the top of this story is the first thing he drew.
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Portsia Smith Mitchell is a University of Mary Washington graduate, a former journalist at the Fredericksburg, VA, Free Lance-Star, a hotel manager, boy mom, and prison wife. She and her husband Dwon, an artist, have been married for more than five years and try to break the ice on taboo subjects like surviving marriage, incarceration, mental health and the hotel industry.
The flexible pen
