C-O-V-I-D-19 spells CHANGE
By Jodi Hansen
Historical crises have always provided writers and filmmakers with the best content for creating amazing stories about human triumph. Books and film are great ways for us to look back at what life was like before that disaster that changed everything. Yes, life will be different after we get control of this pandemic and find our “new normal.” But for now—in this season of flattening the curve and aggressively working to slow the spread of the disease—most of us are feeling helpless, anxious and confused about what will happen next. So, we do what humans do in response to powerlessness—we band together, take care of each other, AND fight over toilet paper!
Necessity is the mother of invention.
But unforeseen crises also have the power to force us to innovate and solve problems that we have been minimizing or ignoring for too long. The proverbial heart attack will finally cause the obese smoker to change his lifestyle. Airport security has never returned to the laxity we all enjoyed before September 11, 2001. The Great Depression caused the government to create the FDIC to protect us from a future run on the banks, and the financial crisis of 2008 led to new rules for the mortgage industry that should have been in place long before too many Americans lost their homes and bankers made off with millions in bonuses.
The COVID-19 outbreak is forcing governments and the medical community to address our collective inability to effectively respond to a global pandemic, while taking care of our citizens most vulnerable to the economic impact of social distancing and isolation. Many of the preventative and relief initiatives being proposed and implemented today will likely be in place long after we have normalized getting our annual coronavirus vaccines.
Out of sight, out of mind isn’t working anymore.
In the 10+ years I have been engaged in prison ministry—both on the inside and in providing reentry assistance to men and women returning to our neighborhoods—I have become well informed about the living conditions of the people we lock up.
The food we feed our prisoners is comprised mostly of cheap carbs. Healthy immune-boosting fruits and vegetables are few and far between for most. Many of our returning citizens come back to our neighborhoods with chronic health issues that were ignored for too long by a system that doesn’t have the money to provide even a minimal standard of care. Dorm living conditions are cramped. Cells are small. Adults in Custody (“AIC”) share tight quarters and cannot practice the social distancing that the CDC is presently recommending for the rest of us. Colds, GI bugs, and flu go through a prison like wildfire. If COVID-19 gets in, it’s going to spread quickly and mercilessly.
Advocacy groups such as the Oregon Justice Resource Center are urging the Governor to grant clemency for the early release of any AICs who are scheduled to go home within the next year, are elderly, or are in high risk groups.
As much as I would love to see a massive exodus from an expensive system that has proven to be ineffective in delivering on its promise to make us all safer anyway, I shudder at how ill prepared we are to serve this larger-than-normal group coming home without much warning.
Parole and Probation departments are sorely understaffed and underfunded. POs would find it very hard to effectively provide the kind of post-prison supervision needed to ensure public safety.
On the best days, we have a major shortage of transitional housing. Today, many shelters are limiting or suspending admissions, and thus depleting access to the already short bed supply.
We already have a lack of capacity within our county mental health systems to serve those releasing from jails and prisons and a horrific lack of primary care doctors to treat even the general population.
And, the people who do receive drug treatment while incarcerated usually only get it in the last year of their sentence. This means they would be leaving right as they are finally getting the addictions treatment they desperately need to address the root cause of their criminal behavior to, instead, be sent out into the community where access to drug treatment is abysmal.
But then things get personal…
Nan was charged with the murder of her boyfriend in the 1990’s before Battered Women Syndrome was an acceptable defense. He had been beating her and threatening to kill her for years before she eventually snapped and used his gun to end the torment. She was given the full measure of the tough-on-crime justice we love here in America and was sentenced to 25 years in prison. Now, she is in her 60’s and in poor health after spending so many years in prison. If Nan gets COVID-19 she is a prime candidate for succumbing to the virus. Does Nan deserve to die in prison for an offense that we now understand to be a desperate act of self-defense?
I would love to see people like Nan released from prison in response to the pandemic in order to decrease the chance they will contract the virus in prison, an environment that fosters proliferation of deadly disease much like nursing homes. But I also want people to leave our prisons prepared to reenter society successfully. I have been shedding a lot of tears these days for people I have come to know in both groups. It’s a mess!
Yes, people need to be held accountable for committing crime, but is locking them up and subjecting them to poor nutrition, poor health care, and the risk of dying from a pandemic illness what we intend when we define accountable? And, where is accountability for society when we place insurmountable barriers in the way of returning neighbors who are trying to become law abiding tax paying citizens?
“Remember prisoners as if you were in prison with them, and people who are mistreated as if you were in their place. ”
Just three weeks ago, over 80 people from diverse faith traditions met in Newberg for Hearing the Cries: Healing Injustice. We gathered together to learn through story and education how we can reform our criminal legal system and be better at assisting the 95% who will return to our neighborhoods after incarceration. As we conversed and bathed our hands in hand-sanitizer before filling our coffee cups, we all agreed that reform will be slow. We have to change not only public policy, but the public’s understanding of how detrimental our system has become to the health and safety of our communities. Most of us left hopeful but sobered by the task that is before us.
But, if crisis can be a catalyst for accelerating changes that have long needed to be made, then maybe COVID-19 can be an agent for causing us to address the harm caused by being the most incarcerating country in the world. Maybe this pandemic will help us to address the injustice of our profiteering prison phone system that makes it hard for family members to connect during times of global or personal emergency. Maybe while we wrestle with what to do with elderly and infirm prisoners during this global health crisis, we can look ahead to how to provide early release options to prisoners facing individual and life-threatening health crises in the future. Maybe this disaster can help us to face the generational cycles of trauma we are handing down to children when we incarcerate their drug-addicted parents rather than providing treatment. Maybe in November we can pass IP-44, a ballot measure to stop criminalizing drug addiction to instead provide treatment that can keep families together and save taxpayer money.
Or, better yet, maybe we can find the collective will to undo Measure 11 and other harsh mandatory minimum sentencing laws that we the people passed during the 80’s and 90’s when we didn’t understand addiction, mental health, trauma, and brain science like we do today. We have so much research now that proves our system is not working. It’s time to change it.
And, maybe future generations can read books and watch movies about the COVID-19 pandemic and marvel at how quickly this catastrophe caused us to come together to address not only problems with our economy and our healthcare system, but also forced us to address problems we have been minimizing and ignoring for too long in our criminal justice system.
Onward!