Think of being unable to contact your loved ones, seeing them face to face, or even leaving your cell for an indefinite period of time. That is the situation that befell thousands of California prison inmates in June 2025, when the state introduced sweeping restrictions in as many as 24 prisons. As described by CalMatters, almost 34,000 inmates were restricted in terms of their activity and movement, due to security concerns regarding violence, overdoses, and contraband. All phone calls, visits, communications via tablets, as well as rehabilitation programs were suspended. Although it might have been claimed that these restrictions were justified for the sake of security, I believe that it brings up a bigger question of when protection becomes punishment of all involved parties, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. The thing that made me realize the gravity of the situation the most is the fact that there had not been any announcement about the end date of these restrictions.

What makes this case even more disappointing is the fact that prisons are already facilities that limit the freedom of those who are confined there, which makes one wonder how limiting most forms of contact with the outside world may affect an already challenging experience. As it is reported in the article, family members were concerned about their relatives’ well-being and did not know if they were safe. Personally, I cannot comprehend what kind of stress it must be to have my relative in prison and not be able to reach out to him or her. Sometimes, a simple call may do wonders for the well-being of a person, and depriving people of such opportunity can certainly harm their psychological state. The measures were introduced to address the issue of potential violence that exists in prisons, and all staff members should feel safe in the workplace; however, it is still hard to see the difference between tackling certain issues and introducing limitations to thousands of people without setting any date.

Here, too, the hunger strike becomes relevant to our discussion. Less than a day after the restrictions came into effect, the inmates of Salinas Valley State Prison started a hunger strike in response to what they perceived as unjust restrictions, collective punishment, and violation of their rights. According to an advocate, there were around 500 participants. As for me, the fact that the people chose this type of action to make their voices heard demonstrates the desperation they felt. Moreover, the chosen action relates to another reading on this week’s agenda: in the article “Still Burning: Self-Immolation as Photographic Protest”, Michelle Murray Yang talks about the use of extremely violent protests by the individuals to bring attention to the injustice done to them. In particular, Yang refers to the famous picture of the Buddhist monk Thich Quang Duc, who staged his self-immolation in 1963 as a protest against religious persecution in South Vietnam. Despite the fact that this type of protest action differs greatly from a hunger strike in a prison, both cases are similar in terms of people’s willingness to engage in such an extreme type of protest when other means are no longer effective.

Another interesting aspect of Yang’s article is the fact that strong visual images and stories may challenge what is going on rather than accept it as it is. For example, the photograph of Quang Duc’s protest attracted the attention of the whole world and was later used by those who opposed the war to persuade people to speak out. This is an example of the power of media to spread the word about someone’s experience. In my opinion, the same concept should be applied to the incarceration stories. When hearing the word “prisoner,” people tend to stop thinking about a real person whose emotions, family, and needs are important. Incarcerated people are not animals that have no right to voice their experiences. I thought about the same thing when reading about the new California restrictions because it became clear to me how much the way of thinking depends on one’s side of the story. For example, hearing the explanation of the government, one may consider the lockdown measures to be just necessary steps for the sake of security. That does not mean every protester’s claim should automatically be accepted as fact, but it does mean their concerns should not be dismissed without being examined.

Overall, both articles brought to my mind the importance of having a chance to protest when one believes that something goes wrong. The act of protest may come in many different forms, but the truth is that it might uncover the issues that might remain unnoticed at first glance. In my opinion, maintaining safety within prison institutions and treating inmates like real human beings should not be two contradictory concepts. On the contrary, the way that, in my opinion, should be adopted involves dealing with particular security issues and letting people access their families, get proper treatment, and have an opportunity for rehabilitation as much as possible. The main question that comes to my mind in this case is: what if people start feeling like there is no one who listens to them? In this sense, Yang’s article indicates that there are some acts of protest that might force the public to ask: “What now?” I think that this question is quite appropriate in our case as well. Once we understand the issue and the people who have to face it, we will have to think about the future actions to be undertaken. At the end of the day, being willing to listen is a small step, but it can be the beginning of real change.