Bic razors used to be available for purchase on the commissary, $1.40 for a pack of ten. Once broken down, the razors were often transformed into an instrument used in a myriad of unintended ways: self-harm and weapons, for instance.
In an effort to put a halt to these antics, the Department of Corrections posted a memo to inform the population of new guidelines. Bic razors were now limited to a maximum purchase of two per shop, and the new price would be $0.20 per razor.
Later that month, our 9:00 p.m. count ran exceptionally long. Then we found out why. Soon the ambulance was spotted crawling down the walkway silently, its emergency lights flashing brightly against the night sky, illuminating the situation’s urgency. A girl had taped up a bunch of blades before swallowing them one by one. She’d guaranteed herself a couple days in the hospital with good food while she recovered from the removal surgery.
Frantic to staunch the spread of potential blame leveled towards them, the Department posted a memo to inform the population of updated guidelines. Bic razors were no longer available for purchase. The population had 30 days to dispose of all razors in their possession. After the grace period, Class 1 Misconducts would be issued to all prisoners found in possession of razors.
That left the female population with two options for hair removal, both of which had qualities used as strikes against them. There was the option of an electric shaver that had largely been rebranded into a vibrator — or Magic Shave, whose label guaranteed it was “specifically formulated for black men’s facial hair.” Both left much to be desired.
The electric shaver didn’t offer a smooth shave, leaving a 2-3 day-like stubble when compared to a razor. There also were the common razor bumps that spread rash on all types of irritated skin. The batteries needed to power it were pricey, drained quickly, and often were out of stock. Even the most sparing use of the shaver resulted in a drastic dulling of the blades — blades that weren’t authorized to be switched out with the affordable replacement blades. Instead, an entire new device had to be purchased. A $23 price tag coupled with a 60-day minimum purchase process made this option decline in popularity.
That left Magic Shave, a depilatory cream that smelled like rotten eggs fused with an expired perm. Aside from the foul smell, I’m a white woman, so the body hair that I’m needing to remove is in no way consistent with black men’s facial hair. To compensate for this minor hiccup, it was soon discovered that the cream would have to be left on for an extended amount of time. I slathered the cold, obscenely smelling cream all over my body and stood still for the eight minutes (double the recommended four) needed for the cream to activate and make the alleged magic happen.
It was uncomfortable but I waited it out. As soon as the time was up, I immediately got under the shower stream to rinse it off. I began removing the cream with a washcloth and quickly noticed the hair coming off in patches and the skin that had been exposed to the cream was now inflamed to an alarming shade of red. My skin traditionally wasn’t sensitive, so I’d generously applied the cream to my very sensitive “lady parts.” For the next 48 hours, every move I made reminded me of just how sensitive said parts were. To add to the train wreck, despite damn near removing an entire layer of my skin with chemical burns, somehow my hair had only come off in a patchy mess.
This transition away from razors was forcefully implemented by the Department statewide in 2014. It took the female population an additional seven years to gain access to a woman’s specific hair removal cream (Nair). Thankfully, it works much better.
Without razor blades available to swallow, desperate women soon began substituting batteries, pencils, shattered florescent light bulbs, broken glass, shards of cement floor tiles, once even a piece of razor wire from the barbed wire fences used to cage us.
The ambulances still can been seen, lights flashing across the sky, silently waiting to ferry the swallowers off to their awaiting surgery. I’ve lost count of the instances of mutilation I’ve seen, just as I’ve lost count of the number of chemical burns I’ve suffered trying to shave.
The administration that enacted the razor ban very likely believed that they were greatly improving the safety and security of the facility. In all actuality, all they accomplished was turning the simple act of shaving into chemical warfare.
*Ashleigh Smith is a lettersfromchristopher.com contributing writer.
ASHLEIGH CORTNEY SMITH #698500
Women’s Huron Valley Correctional Facility
3201 Bemis Road
Ypsilanti, MI 48197-0911
