I've never been in a federal prison, but I ain't ashamed to say that I've been in and out of state corectional facilities in my past. Most of the time I wasn't doing anything immoral, as opposed to illegal, depending on your viewpoint.
Anyway, having been in many, I can say the whole violence thing in jails is really hyped too much. I'd imagine that prisons are worse, but jails are more boring than anything else. I don't know how people got the impression that jails are like country clubs, `cause we only got to go outside for one hour week, even then only in a very small fenced in backtop that barely helded all of my pod that was at twice intended capactiy, we didn't have any weights and were not allowed to lift weights, any money you had going in was gone in a couple weeks because they stuck it in a jail bank account that charged 25% intrest a week, and you had to buy your underpants, shampoo, deodorant and such with it, we had no television nor anything to read but a pocket version of the New Testament(you were out of luck if you weren't Christian), barely got fed anything, well it goes on and on but the gist of it is that it was boring as hell.
But, everybody pretty much learned to get along with eachother, because you didn't really have any other choice. Or sure, a scuffel once in a while, but everybody tried to treat everybody else with a degree of respect and dignity.
Also, it ain't full of a bunch of freaks and hoodlums like you hear, even the jails in the rougher counties. Pretty much the same people in there as you meet on the street.
That said, toothbrushes were the only thing you could hope to make a shiv out of. Even then you had to get a trustee to slip you an extra toothbrush because the collected them every week and if you didn't turn one in there was hell to pay. The beds were made out of sheet metal welded together, no springs or slats, and the only dangerous weapon you had access to if you got so lucky as to be allowed to work in the kitchen was a spork. Which they counted and collected at every meal. Razors were only given out for 15 minutes once a week, and then, you guessed it, collected and counted.
I'm not saying you could get contraband up in the pods, but we're talkig benign stuff like drugs and pornography.
The most dangerous thing you had access to was your towel and your one-piece solid rubber sandals. Only the towel was too small to put the sandal in to make a sap, and the soap, if you were lucky enough to have some, was the size of the stuff they give you in hotels. You could smack somebody with the sandle, but it was no more damaging than a bare hand.
Sure, every now and then things would get out of hand, and the longer your stay the more likely you get caught up in it, but it wasn't an every day experience. As long as you let it be known that you weren't affraid to kick some ass when required, you were given your space.
Hell, once while waiting for lunch the resident big badass cut in front of me and took my tray. I expressed my displeasure in no uncertain terms, he issued a stream of foul language and then gave me his tea to make up for it.
Chow line is perhaps the one thing you've got to watch, because eating is one of the few pleasures you have in there, so when somebody cuts in line and the ousted party doesn't do something about it people take it as a sign of weakness and then you might get in some trouble. Solitary is no big deal for me, and it would have been worth that plus the extra time and possible beat down to have gone toe to toe with this joker had he not made amends.
But again, it never came to blows. He understood what he'd done was way outa line, and tried to make it right. I should note that this guy was about three times my size and between him and his buddies he could have probably mopped the floor with me.