About This Piece:
A Vow Fulfilled
In 2020, while navigating the interior of the Orange County Jail, I witnessed a level of callousness that fundamentally altered my perspective on justice and humanity. This poem, "When did we lose our humanity," is the fulfillment of a vow I took for a woman named Kaylee and the child who was never given the chance to see the light of day.
Orange County jail
2020
a girl in orange smocks,
a bunkbed to the
right and above me
She was 5 months pregnant
She didn't tell the guards
because the pregnant girls get
verbally abused extra hard
I remember when I first learned
how jails treat childbirth
Like a cold, sterile operation
Women cut and stitched up
Babies snatched from their mothers
They don't even get to hold
their newborn child
Passed off to a relative
if they're lucky and have family
otherwise the baby's first days
are spent alone in the cage
of an incubator encapsulated in concrete
a floor under the basement, no windows
no light of day
no ones face to receive the smile
that the baby so willfully
would have gave
Who does the baby first lock eyes with?
Bringing life into this world
is magic
But when a woman isn't granted
a second to hold the child she bore
for 9 months,
humans desecrate
the Great Feminine womb
with callus madness
The day Kaylee was taken to court
by the rabid guard dogs,
who were so quick
to snarl and shame an inmate,
She didn't return
All 6 other girls came back
and were happy to be able to breathe
because their ribs were finally unshackled
But two hours went by
and Kaylee still hadn't returned
Intuitively the Omniscient Woman in me
was worried
The guards finally buzzed her into the cage
But I already knew something
was going to be wrong
Her delicate face was beaten to a pulp
Eyes swollen from weeping
Blood stained her sweats
When I asked what happened
She could barely speak
She limped to her bunk and squeaked,
"The guards beat me and I lost the baby.
I started bleeding so badly
they took me to the doctor
and he confirmed that
I was 5 months pregnant,
but I had now lost it."
A fire raged inside of me
Choking back tears
all I could say
was, "You told the doctor
the guards beat you?"
Her swollen eyes started to glaze
Like watching an unwatered flower
in a pot wilt
All color drained from her face
And she nodded.
Whispering because I didn't
want the guard dogs to hear me
"But he's a doctor, they take an
oath to protect the people.
We can't let them get away with this,
its inhumane."
And she shrugged,
"What can I do?
I'm just an inmate."
I took a vow that day
to not keep this secret silent
While good women get caged
and succumb to the guards violence
The minimum time a sheriff has to
do in jail is 2 years
I say 2 years is the maximum
a guard can stay
The ones who come to work
just to make incarcerated women hurt
Are the ones who volunteer for
4 more years of that position
Because inflicting pain on a captured woman
is a gain to their severed feminine
When did we lose our humanity