JARRATT, Va. | Kendall Gibson would seem to be one of Virginia’s most dangerous prisoners.
For more than 10 years, he has lived in segregation at the Greensville Correctional Center, spending at least 23 hours every day in a cell the size of a gas station bathroom. In a temporary home for the worst of the worst — inmates too violent or disruptive to live among the rest of society’s outcasts — he has been a permanent fixture.
He is there, he says, not for his crimes but for a crime he will not commit — a crime against God.
The only thing imposing about Gibson is his long black dreadlocks. It is his hair — winding locks he considers a measure of his Rastafarian faith — that makes him a threat, according to Virginia Department of Corrections Operating Procedure No. 864.1.
The rule took effect on Dec. 15, 1999. Inmates had two choices: Cut their hair no longer than their collars and shave their beards, or be placed in administrative segregation.
In the beginning, Gibson was among as many as 40 inmates who opted for confinement over cutting. By 2003, when a handful of the inmates filed a federal lawsuit against the department over their detention, 23 remained in segregation.
The lawsuit failed. Some cracked under the pressure of constant isolation with no visits from loved ones, educational or religious programs or commissary. Some went home.
Today, it’s difficult to tell exactly how many remain in isolation. The Department of Corrections won’t volunteer the information but has confirmed 10 names given to the Associated Press by a group of Rastafarian inmates.
Not everyone can handle it, Gibson said. For those weak in mind or spirit, the walls can easily close in on them. “People always ask how I can smile in a place so negative,” he said. The Rastafarian God, Jah, “is my answer. Without Jah in my life, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
Like most of the Rastafarians in segregation, Gibson didn’t become a believer until after he entered prison. He was 18 and had a long time to serve, sentenced to 47 years on robbery, abduction and gun charges.
Gibson always loved the “peaceful vibes of Rastafari livity” but, like many others, he knew the movement by the hair, the music and the ganja. In prison, he met others who taught him the spiritual aspects. He took on the name Ras-Talawa Tafari, a strong leader who inspires awe.
Rastafari draws from the Bible, mixing in African and Caribbean cultural influences. Many consider it more a way of life or movement than a religion. They preach unity with God, nature and one another, but are loosely organized. Followers are free to worship with other congregations.
Rastafarians regard Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I, who was known as Ras Tafari before he rose to power in 1930, as the second coming of Christ. They believe Jah inhabits them so there it no real need for a church. They smoke marijuana as a sacrament and adhere to a vegetarian diet.
While some view growing their hair as optional, most Rastafarians see it as demanded by the Nazarite Vow in the Bible (Numbers 6:5), “There shall no razor come upon his head.”
Gibson never entertained the thought of cutting his hair when the policy was announced or during the 10 long years since. A person must be willing to stand up and fight for a worthy cause, he said, echoing Rastafarian messenger Bob Marley’s rhythmic chant, “Get up. Stand up. Stand up for your rights.”
Gibson’s days are long but compact. Five days a week, he is led in restraints to an outside cage that resembles a dog kennel for an hour of recreation. Otherwise, he leaves his 8-by-10-foot cell only for three, 20-minute showers each week.
The segregation unit has 16 cells. Although the inmates can’t see one another, they often talk. Gibson has now been in isolation nearly 4,000 days.
The way Department of Corrections officials see it, the inmates could come out of segregation any time they wish. They made a choice to go to segregation instead of cutting their hair, spokesman Larry Traylor said. If they comply with the grooming policy, they could return to general population.
“Rules must be in place in order to have a secure, safe environment for everyone,” he said. “An inmate that will not follow the rules jeopardizes normal prison operations and is potentially a danger to other inmates and staff.”
Virginia is among only about a dozen states, mostly in the South, that limit the length of inmates’ hair and beards, according to the American Correctional Chaplains Association. A handful of those allow religious accommodations for Rastafarians, Muslims, Sikhs, American Indians and others whose religious beliefs prohibit shaving or cutting their hair. There is no hair policy for federal prisoners.
The U.S. Supreme Court has said that constitutional protections, like the right to practice religion, do not end at the prison gates. Congress has said institutions can restrict religious liberties only for compelling reasons, like security, but the policies must be the least restrictive means to accomplish that.
Still, inmates rarely have been successful in challenging prison grooming policies.
An American Indian inmate spent a year in his cell and lost other privileges before a federal appeals court ruled in 2005 that the California prison system’s ban on long hair violated his religious freedom.
In a 2002 case, a group of Rastafarian and Muslim federal inmates who were housed in Virginia prisons challenged the grooming policy and a federal court ordered the Bureau of Prisons to transfer them to other facilities that did not have such policies. The court also required the federal prison system to evaluate inmates’ religious beliefs and refrain from sending them to Virginia or other states with burdensome grooming policies.
But in the case filed by the Virginia state prisoners, a federal appeals court ruled in 2008 that the Department of Corrections’ argument that inmates could hide weapons and other contraband in long hair or easily change their appearance upon escape was compelling enough reason to require trimmed hair.
Kent Willis, executive director of the Virginia chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union, which represented the inmates, said the outcome was deeply disappointing because he knew the sincerest believers would be those who would be punished most severely.
“This has a disturbingly mean-spirited aspect to it,” Mr. Willis said. “This is not about corrections. This is not about security, but it’s about punishment. In this instance, people are being punished for their religious beliefs.”
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