Becoming humble: It’s a good thing, and key to survival

A silvery pink wand hangs from the wall in Alice Watt’s office. With peals of laughter, she calls herself “a correctional goddess.” Her mood is jolly this morning; she’s been asked to consider Martha Stewart’s prison sentence.

“Martha Stewart could buy her own prison and design it herself,” says Watts, a Washington state corrections supervisor in charge of the Eleanor Chase House just south of downtown Spokane. There edgy, young drug offenders and weary, old criminals, all women, come to serve the last four months of their prison time. They work in jobs such as motel housekeeping by day and return to hard jail beds at night.

Think for a moment about those beds. Martha Stewart tells her admirers to buy the highest thread-count linens they can find. The best pillowcases on www.marthastewart.com last week featured a 406-thread count, made in Italy of 100 percent Egyptian cotton. They sold for $89 a pair.

The Federal Prison Industries, under the trade name Unicor, makes linens, too, which they sell back to prisons such as the minimum-security facility where Martha may serve time. They list pillowcases in 50 percent cotton, 50 percent polyester, a 180-thread count, for $2.41 apiece.

The comparisons will be stark. For Martha Stewart, the prospect of five months in prison, which she received for lying to federal investigators just over a week ago, looms as devastating. For a 50-year-old woman prisoner from Seattle with sad, tired eyes sitting outside the Eleanor Chase House last week, it’s nothing. For much of this woman’s life for the last 30 years has been wasted. She’s served more than nine of those years in prison, the rest of them in jail or on probation. She gets out next month, planning never to return.

She’ll have to find a job quickly, so she doesn’t want her name in the newspaper, but she was willing to share a few survival tips for Martha.

Washington state prisons differ in some respects from federal prisons, but in both places, the indignities and discomforts extend right into bed every night. The Seattle prisoner spoke of dingy sheets, thin, hard mattresses and lifeless, plastic-wrapped pillows known for their flame and bacteria resistance rather than their loft.

“The bedding has been used a thousand times or more,” said the woman, a recovering heroin and cocaine addict. “You’re not going to go in and get brand new white sheets, a brand new pillow or a brand new blanket. She’s going to have issues.”

But the sad-eyed inmate had a few Martha Stewart-like pointers of her own: Rolled up toilet paper can make good hair rollers, and prison-issued toothpaste can substitute for Spray ‘n Wash for treating stains.

“I think she’ll have to become humble,” the prisoner said.

So far, we haven’t seen signs of that. Martha plans to appeal. And just the other day, she compared herself to Nelson Mandela.

Certainly, over the years, I’ve developed an impression of Martha, based on phone interviews and watching her give a luncheon talk at a journalism conference. I’ve seen a woman with enormous talent and drive, and a 5,000-thread-count sense of entitlement. She’s never seemed entirely real, nor does she seem to have much empathy for the reality of others.

The goddess of corrections has some observations, too. Watts watched Martha Stewart’s press conference after the sentencing. “She did not admit any guilt,” Watts says. “She didn’t show remorse. She didn’t accept responsibility for it. That doesn’t augur well for any kind of change.”

Watts predicts that in prison Martha will go into shock initially, as most white-collar criminals do, but she’ll display her trademark mental strength and resiliency. “She’s a survivor,” Watts says.

Prison won’t likely transform the goddess of domesticity. But Watts hopes the fierce entrepreneur can channel her energy into teaching other women prisoners her techniques for marshalling courage, independence and an “I-can-do-it” attitude. Those are the messages Watts herself tries to instill as her prisoners head back into the real world.

Watts admires Martha’s accomplishments, pointing out that she entered the cultural psyche during the careerist ‘80s to remind women of the value of creating a lovely home.

My memory of Martha’s contributions to American family life clouds over with images of the impossible-to-achieve perfection she inflicted on weary working women. In a time when mothers tucked the family pictures in the office desk drawer and struggled to balance careers and family life, she recommended they further complicate their days by painting their holiday centerpieces gold. For women strained simply to get the laundry done, she cheerily exhorted them to start ironing their sheets and color-coding their linen closet.

Martha Stewart now has a new renovation project ahead, a renovation of the self. It’s time to remove a few layers of gilt to find what lies beneath. By risking the vulnerability that will come through deep reflection on her own character, she might find a way to shed the artificiality.

America could use an icon who could model authenticity and compassion, as well as ambition and achievement.

She could start with a few tips from Spokane’s goddess of correction, who employs a generous spirit and a strong sense of humor to help women prisoners succeed. “I get up in the morning,” Alice Watts says with a wide smile, “to make a difference. Otherwise, why bother?”