Just like there’s no reason to anything in prison. No reason why, on a whim, a guard raids your locker, tearing through your only belongings, dumping your soap powder, and mixing your baby powder into your instant coffee, spoiling both. No reason why some women inmates are assigned to spend their days in a parenting class even if they don’t have children, while others must push a mop around for eight cents an hour, and others have to report to fire camp, going through weeks of rigorous physical training to be awarded an orange uniform and delivered to the front lines of a California wildfire
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