TThe predominance of the penal press was established around 1800, when the first prison newspaper was published in a New York debtor's prison. Written by an incarcerated lawyer named William Keteltas, Desperate hope's first editorial called for legislation establishing state-level debt relief and demanded federal bankruptcy law, a position helpfully tailored to its editor's personal predicament. But the newspaper quickly broadened its scope, publishing missives on solutions to a wide variety of social ills, including the suppression of temperance and gambling, public education for women and blacks, the abolition of slavery and capital punishment, welfare for orphans, legal aid for the accused, and evangelistic efforts among incarcerated populations. The influence and influence of prison journalism furthered the evolution of the institutions that produced them, ultimately providing inmates with popular recreational and remedial opportunities, such as Alcoholics Anonymous, GED and other degree-granting programs, access to public defenders, and pro bono legal aid.
It was not until much later, in the 19th century, however, that the genre became a forum for research, activism, and inmate grievances. The expansion of prison newspapers in prisons across the country followed the prison reform movement, which sought to improve prison conditions and rehabilitate incarcerated people into productive members of society. As author James McGrath Morris notes in his book Journalism in prison: the fourth estate behind barsthe expansion of prison publishing opportunities familiarized inmates with writing, editing, photography, illustration, design, composition, proofreading, and printing, which helped establish a skilled workforce that could be reintegrated into communities after their release. These outlets also fostered in inmates the higher-order thinking skills necessary for introspection, which encouraged the practice of nonviolent communication and creative self-expression in lieu of crime, thereby reducing recidivism.
In the 20th century, the criminal press flourished in the South, with the publication of ECHO in Texas, which is still distributed to readers statewide, and The Eaglewhich had previously been published in the Alderson women's prison in West Virginia, where Martha Stewart was once incarcerated. At the end of the century, the Cajun Prison Press emerged from Louisiana's Avoyelles Correctional Center to record the results of a spirited competition among inmates to decorate Mardi Gras and post book reviews for titles both “hot” and “not.” The long term Long-line writer at the Arkansas Cummins Unit published serials, essays, poetry, crosswords, sports articles and prison “survival secrets” alongside its standard coverage of criminal justice news.
When The Angolite Launched at the Louisiana State Penitentiary in January 1953, it was designed primarily as a newspaper for internal circulation among inmates, following in the tradition of other newsletters published and distributed in Angola, such as the AngolaArgusTHE Messenger from AngolaAnd Angolan news. Coverage of recreational events and weekly news stories was printed on mimeographed tabloids at the request of its first editor, William “Old Wooden Ear” Sadler, who worked under the supervision of director Maurice H. Sigler for three years. After Sadler's release, the leadership of the weekly passed through several hands relatively quickly: Oma G. Fleming's iteration published a list of prison commissary products in the September 21, 1957 issue, replete with prices (Cigarettes, Picayunes .27, IceCreamAll flavors .05, House Slippers .87), while Maurice Foliae worked under a redesigned nameplate, alerting its audience to the modernization of the Fabrica de Hombres Nuevo (New Men Factory), a euphemism for the Lecumberri Palace in Mexico City, an open-air prison that held student protesters arrested during the Tlatelolco massacre. He also highlighted the production output of the Angolan soap factory in 1958 – THE HIGHEST EVER, according to one headline, with production totaling 339,200 bars of ground soap that year. Throughout this period, the paper chronicles the zeitgeist of a mid-century prison for posterity in an oddly charming, tweeting voice, making it function less as a site for investigative journalism than as a forum for prison publicity.
