Jason Jackson entered FCI Forrest City in January 2024 with hopes of serving his sentence without fear for his life. But within moments of arrival, he was faced with the devastating reality of what it means to be openly gay in a prison system that is indifferent to the safety of those incarcerated. Stereotyped for his appearance and demeanor, he was isolated in a room by a group who aggressively interrogated him about his sexual orientation. They threatened to beat him unless he was removed from the general population.
Desperate for protection, he requested protective custody, a safeguard measure intended to separate vulnerable individuals from potential harm. While the Security Intelligence Service (SIS) of the Bureau of Prisons investigated this threat, Jason was placed in the special housing unit, or solitary confinement. In an interview with SIS, Jason recounted the threat in full detail. But two weeks later, SIS closed the investigation and concluded that no threat was found because Jason’s testimony could not be corroborated. Jason was forced back into the general population, and the cycle of fear began.
To avoid further threats and violence, Jason stayed out of public spaces. For that, he was punished. He was issued incident reports for “refusing a program or work assignment”, resulting in the loss of visitation rights for 30 days. Each violation added more points to his record, making his transfer to another higher security facility inevitable.
In July 2024, Jason was transferred to FCI El Reno. The situation repeated itself. He was immediately targeted and threatened with death. Seeking protective custody again, the investigation found no corroborating evidence of the threats. In an already weak protective system, how can other incarcerated individuals be willing to speak out and corroborate such a threat? The standard of proof demanded by SIS ignores the very nature of prison power dynamics and silences those most at risk. As a result, he was placed back into the general population, where intimidation and isolation continued. His privileges to telephone access and commissary use were revoked for 30 days. As these reports accumulated, the higher his points became. Jason was punished for the system’s failure to protect him.
Jason has sought out other alternatives to protective custody. He does not have enough time left on his sentence to qualify for the residential drug abuse program (RDAP), a program his judge recommended, where participants live separately and have specialized programming. He is also ineligible for the evidence-based recidivism reduction program (EBRR), another program that would provide separate housing. Jason’s search for safety has been exhausting and fruitless. Now, all Jason hopes for is to finish his sentence safely in December 2025.
Jason’s experience reflects a deeper issue within the Bureau of Prisons: a system that is indifferent to the safety of LGBTQ+ individuals. The failure to protect Jason underscores a larger problem of homophobia and discrimination in our nation’s prison systems.
We can no longer stand by while individuals like Jason suffer in silence. Join us in demanding that the BOP take immediate action to protect the safety and dignity of all incarcerated individuals.
Jason Jackson entered FCI Forrest City in January 2024 with hopes of serving his sentence without fear for his life. But within moments of arrival, he was faced with the devastating reality of what it means to be openly gay in a prison system that is indifferent to the safety of those incarcerated. Stereotyped for his appearance and demeanor, he was isolated in a room by a group who aggressively interrogated him about his sexual orientation. They threatened to beat him unless he was removed from the general population.
Desperate for protection, he requested protective custody, a safeguard measure intended to separate vulnerable individuals from potential harm. While the Security Intelligence Service (SIS) of the Bureau of Prisons investigated this threat, Jason was placed in the special housing unit, or solitary confinement. In an interview with SIS, Jason recounted the threat in full detail. But two weeks later, SIS closed the investigation and concluded that no threat was found because Jason’s testimony could not be corroborated. Jason was forced back into the general population, and the cycle of fear began.
To avoid further threats and violence, Jason stayed out of public spaces. For that, he was punished. He was issued incident reports for “refusing a program or work assignment”, resulting in the loss of visitation rights for 30 days. Each violation added more points to his record, making his transfer to another higher security facility inevitable.
In July 2024, Jason was transferred to FCI El Reno. The situation repeated itself. He was immediately targeted and threatened with death. Seeking protective custody again, the investigation found no corroborating evidence of the threats. In an already weak protective system, how can other incarcerated individuals be willing to speak out and corroborate such a threat? The standard of proof demanded by SIS ignores the very nature of prison power dynamics and silences those most at risk. As a result, he was placed back into the general population, where intimidation and isolation continued. His privileges to telephone access and commissary use were revoked for 30 days. As these reports accumulated, the higher his points became. Jason was punished for the system’s failure to protect him.
Jason has sought out other alternatives to protective custody. He does not have enough time left on his sentence to qualify for the residential drug abuse program (RDAP), a program his judge recommended, where participants live separately and have specialized programming. He is also ineligible for the evidence-based recidivism reduction program (EBRR), another program that would provide separate housing. Jason’s search for safety has been exhausting and fruitless. Now, all Jason hopes for is to finish his sentence safely in December 2025.
Jason’s experience reflects a deeper issue within the Bureau of Prisons: a system that is indifferent to the safety of LGBTQ+ individuals. The failure to protect Jason underscores a larger problem of homophobia and discrimination in our nation’s prison systems.
We can no longer stand by while individuals like Jason suffer in silence. Join us in demanding that the BOP take immediate action to protect the safety and dignity of all incarcerated individuals.
