In 2017, while I was incarcerated against my will in a psychiatric institution in Buffalo, NY for ten days, I shared a room with a woman named Barbara Warren-Jones.
She was Barbara to me at the time, although on one occasion, I asked her for her last name and I wrote it down in my composition notebook. Tonight, I looked through the pages of that notebook for her name. I have not been able to bear to look at what I had written during my time in hell with my friend until now. I found what I could handle reading for tonight. Three words:
Barbara Warren Jones.
Barbara, a retired hospital administrator, a colorectal cancer survivor, a proud African American woman, and a devout Christian in her mid-eighties, was on dialysis at the time that I met her. She was brought from a retirement home or some kind of rehabilitation center/home to the worst of all area psychiatric hospitals, and she was admitted and labeled with some form of severe psychiatric illness – probably psychosis. In other words, Barbara was thrown away into a snake pit. Continue reading “Justice for Barbara Warren-Jones”