11-20-2009 Texas:
When a chaplain spoke up about inmates' treatment, she was locked out.
Gail Hanson’s soft, musical voice served her well for eight years as a volunteer chaplain at the Cameron County Jail in Brownsville. But as she witnessed and heard about the mistreatment of the mostly young and impoverished women she counseled—from unhealthy food to freezing-cold cells to lengthy detentions without convictions—Hanson’s voice grew louder. She began to complain on the women’s behalf, at first to the sheriff and then to the broader community. That didn’t sit well with the law in Cameron County. In March 2008, Sheriff Omar Lucio banned Hanson from ministering to the women. After inmates placed her name on their visitors’ lists, Lucio ultimately barred Hanson from entering the jail at all, even during public visitation hours.
It’s rare for chaplains to be locked out of Texas or U.S. jails. The women Hanson worked with say it’s a serious loss. “Now that Mrs. Gail Hanson has been banned out from this jail,” wrote longtime inmate Carla Ramos in a letter sent to Hanson and signed by 21 other inmates, “it is like we don’t have nobody that we can tell about what we are passing through.”
Law-enforcement officials in Cameron County say there is no dearth of spiritual counselors to listen to the women inmates. Chief Deputy Gus Reyna Jr. says there is a long list of chaplains who visit Cameron’s four county lock-ups. When Hanson’s husband, Paul Hanson, asked about the prohibition on his wife, he says another officer mentioned “too many chaplains” as a reason. But shortly thereafter, Assistant Deputy Reyna gave the official reason in a Brownsville Herald story: that Hanson’s methods might stir unrest among inmates. “It may even rise to the level of threatened security breach,” Reyna wrote. “While spiritual guidance may be helpful, personal involvement and advocacy for inmates is not within the acceptable limits of spiritual guidance and counseling and may foment unnecessary and counter-productive unrest among the jail population.”
Hanson, a 61-year-old teacher in a private Christian high school she co-founded with her husband, denies any such situation ever existed. Though she had once been briefly banned for protesting conditions, when her pastor was informed in March 2008 that Hanson would be permanently barred from jail visits, it came as a jolt.
To the charge of “personal involvement” with the inmates, Hanson pleads guilty—and unrepentant. She was well-known for backing up her prayers and praise songs with persistent advocacy. Some chaplains collect money for inmates’ commissary accounts and take them books in addition to teaching, counseling and doing cell-to-cell visitations. Hanson went further. She would ask the guards why the women didn’t have toilet paper or underwear; help the women communicate with children and family members; and write judges to protest the inordinate lengths of time indigent women had to wait for legal services. She took a 22-year-old woman into her home for several months at one point, when the woman’s release was dependent on having a place to live.
“She was there to help me get back on my feet, and [the Hansons] helped me find a job,” says Latescha Mallette, now living in Washington state.
Hanson, who continues to correspond with several of the women she counseled in jail, has filed suit against Cameron County and Sheriff Lucio for violating her constitutional right to free speech. While it asks for no money or damages other than attorney fees—Hanson is represented by local attorney Ed Stapleton, Scott Medlock of the Texas Civil Rights Project and the international firm of King and Spaulding—the suit seeks to restore her right to re-enter the jail as a volunteer chaplain.
“This is an important test case,” says Medlock, both because of its free-speech implications and also because “not many like this have been litigated. And that is because most sheriffs are not abusing their power the way Sheriff Lucio is. This case tests the power of a sheriff to retaliate against those who speak out.” Hanson’s case also highlights the troubled recent history of Cameron County’s jails, including corruption and sexual abuse by guards under the previous sheriff’s watch. And it shines an unusual spotlight on the role that chaplains play in troubled jails like Cameron County’s.
In 2000, Gail Hanson had three grown sons and a case of empty-nest syndrome. Then as now, Hanson was teaching drama, speech and English at Valley Christian High School, which she and her husband, Paul Hanson founded in Cameron County in 1973. The Hansons came from the University of Washington, where they had met, married and graduated. Their “Christian school without denominational connections” has about 70 students from both sides of the border. It’s known for innovative social justice projects as well as for its high academic standards. Motivated by her faith, which emphasizes actions as well as beliefs, Hanson felt the need to do more. By 2000, she’d begun studying counseling and thinking about the needs of people in crisis—especially those ignored by more traditional ministries and by the society as a whole. When she heard about local prison conditions from local chaplain Drew Vail, she knew where she wanted to turn her energies.
Inside the jail, Hanson’s approach was based on a charismatic type of Protestantism. Her gentle questions about who wanted to talk with her, or who was “ready for a miracle,” struck the inmates as quite different from the authoritarian lectures offered by chaplains like Vail. (Some women have complained to Hanson of being threatened with hellfire and damnation if they don’t adopt Vail’s fundamentalist beliefs and follow his direction.)
The Cameron County women’s jail typically holds about 100 women (on a typical day this September, the average was 95). The number of female inmates in South Texas is rising, reflecting national trends; the number of incarcerated women in the United States has grown at double the rate for men since 1980. In the Rio Grande Valley, many of the women (and men) are pre-trial detainees, a fair number of them held for months or even years before they are tried. Detention without conviction happens for many reasons: Inmates might be deemed flight risks, due to family ties in another country just blocks away; immigration courts suffer from a backlog of cases and a shortage of court-appointed counsel; and many inmates have no money for bail even if it’s granted. Only last year did Cameron County initiate an indigent legal defense program.
Hanson worried over the waiting women who sunk into depression and apathy. She took her students to sing to them. She listened to endless stories and hugged the women. She tried to make the case to the sheriff that they needed classes and activities. She also carefully wrote weekly journals on her visits and kept notes on the phone calls and emails while collecting about 200 letters the women have written her. The inmates’ letters are often concerned mainly with legal or family problems, but many also detail the lack of medical care, the deadly boredom and overcrowding in Cameron County lockup.
“There is no air flowing through the facility and these women get no exercise,” wrote inmate Tammy Randolph in 2008. “Why,” asked another of Hanson’s correspondents, “can’t these women get soap or a change of underwear?” At times, women told Hanson they were sleeping on the floor because of overcrowding. Some waited months for a court date without ever seeing counsel; many agonized over children who disappeared into the foster-care system. Several reported getting no help during problem pregnancies, and one woman says that despite repeated pleas for a doctor’s visit, she never got to see a doctor and miscarried twins there.
Hanson never had to doubt that she was needed. “Inside a jail or prison, the chaplains are quite important,” says Emmett Solomon, executive director of Restorative Justice Ministries and 44-year veteran of this work in both state prisons and local jails. “Chaplains listen and give feedback and advice. The big people in inmates’ lives haven’t been dependable on average and so they look to chaplains. Often the inmates adopt them as role models and as friends.”
That’s especially true of chaplains who take Hanson’s approach. Guided by her faith, Hanson’s focus is less on making converts than on helping the women find better lives after jail. “She encourages and brings life to them,” says James Odabashian, Hanson’s pastor at the Vineyard Christian Church in Brownsville. “Of course, we know male inmates also have lost a lot, but it just seems like for the woman in jail here, there has been so much loss ... and there is a lot of desperation.”
From the start, Hanson’s approach was a vast departure from Pastor Vail’s. A self-described “missionary” paid by the Westport Baptist Church in New York, Vail came to Brownsville on a visit nearly 14 years ago and says he heard the voice of God telling him to stay. Vail, whose status as a powerful ally of Sheriff Lucio is exemplified by the nickname some jail staffers gave him—Lieutenant Chaplain—conducts 18 services per week in the Cameron jails. A drug addict before he was “saved,” Vail occupies a unique role in the jails, supervising several volunteer chaplains and producing a four-page newsletter featuring testimonials, expressions of gratitude toward Sheriff Lucio, and candid shots of officers and inmates and testimonials.
“I can’t read or write, but Christ redeemed me here,” reads one photo caption of a meekly smiling inmate holding a Bible. “Carla Ramos—I learned patience,” it says. Ramos, 27, sure needed that: She was held for more than three years in pre-trial detention on a capital murder charge before being tried and found innocent.
Vail uses the word “discipline” frequently when describing his ministry to the women, and he has strict rules for his services, forbidding inmates he cites as troublemakers or lesbians. “We have to let them know they did something wrong,” he says. Vail believes that many of the women indulge in what he calls the idolatrous worship of santisimo muerta. Vail blames santisimo for the women’s interest in tattoos and magical objects.
Despite their drastically different ways of ministering to the inmates, Hanson says she and Vail got along fine during her first few years of counseling the women. In 2004, the two worked together to provide evidence of illegal activities and sexual abuse that flourished under Lucio’s predecessor, Sheriff Conrado Cantu. That year, a correctional officer, Lt. Hilda Treviño, blew the whistle on fellow guards who were having sex with inmates. Other state and local investigations were already underway, and soon the focus was on Cantu, a charismatic sheriff who’d taken office in 2001.
A flamboyant singer of Mexican ballads, Cantu was ultimately found to have exploited the South Texas system of cronyism known as compadrismo to carry out illegal activities like taking kickbacks from drug traffickers and leaking information to criminal suspects. At the same time, Cantu was covering up chaos in his jails: During one year alone, three inmates had escaped, a jailer had been charged with smuggling marijuana to inmates, and chief jailer Joel Zamora had been accused of having sex with female inmates.
Amid public outrage, Sheriff Cantu was sentenced to 26 years in federal prison for racketeering. (Cantu continues to appeal his conviction.) Following his ouster, public interest in the jail faded as Sheriff Lucio took over, promising to end the abuses. To this day, Hanson commends the work the sheriff did to clean up the mess left by the previous sheriff. Still, many problems remained. The Cameron County lockups have failed their state inspections for the past five years. The Sheriff has a thin budget and is under constant pressure to reduce costs while dealing with inadequate facilities. At one point during last year’s election, Sheriff Lucio ran a newspaper ad touting the $350,000 he had saved the taxpayers on inmate food. That came as no surprise to Hanson, or to the women who have complained about starchy, weevil-ridden food and little or no fruit, canned or fresh, sometimes for months.
“I broke down and cried when I was given a banana at the hospital I was sent to after three months in Brownsville jail,” 70-year-old Donna Funke, a former inmate, wrote in a letter about her experiences. It had been a long time since she’d seen fruit.
Responding to the inmates’ stories and Hanson’s increasingly outspoken concerns, Cameron County churches and members of Pax Christi organized a community meeting in February 2008. The religious coalition, including Vermont native and winter Texan Mary McKinley and Father Jerry Frank, pastor of St. Joseph’s, invited the citizenry, the press and candidates for sheriff and district attorney to hear a discussion by attorneys and “victims and witnesses of jail injustice.” An approaching primary election—for sheriff, among other offices—helped pack the room. A former inmate named Patricia Treviño-Hansen spoke of her experiences, calling her 45-day incarceration a “journey through hell,” during which the women in the freezing cold cells had no blankets or towels after showering and, worse, no toilet paper or sanitary supplies available during their periods.
A woman who is proud of both her college degree and recovery from alcoholism, Treviño-Hansen described her own efforts to secure underwear and told how some women were forced to wear adult diapers. She said that many women were too ashamed to report such incidents. “They don’t want families to know,” she says, “and a lot of them believed that nobody on the outside cared what happened to us anyway.”
Sheriff Lucio skipped the meeting, but heavy media coverage ensured that he knew about it. Shortly thereafter, one week before the March 4 primary, Drew Vail wrote a testimonial for Sheriff Lucio that ran in the Brownsville Herald as a paid ad. Beneath his ministry’s logo, “In Christ Ministries,” Vail praised the sheriff for improving conditions, eliminating most corruption and allowing “the proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ as never before” inside the jail. The testimonial then shifted focus to condemn Hanson’s “baseless allegations” about the suffering of women inmates. Vail said that “my congregation” (of women in the jail) told him they were well-treated. He concluded: “It is a shame that Gail Hanson is using her privilege of spreading the gospel…into spreading gossip and concocted false allegations against you [the sheriff].”
Hanson was stunned and hurt to be publicly branded a liar by a fellow chaplain. But things would soon get worse, as she was turned away at the jail. Her pastor got formal notice a month later that Hanson was no longer allowed to minister to women in Cameron County jails.
Chaplain Vail did not respond to questions about Gail Hanson’s banning and lawsuit, saying only, “That is between Gail Hanson and the sheriff.”
Few chaplains have been kicked out of Texas jails. But there was a similar case in 2006, when a volunteer chaplain with Taylor County Detention Ministries, Lance Voorhees, complained to Sheriff Jack Dieken about male inmates being abused on numerous occasions. Voorhees soon found himself banned from ministering to the men. He sent a letter to the attorney general detailing abuses and violations of jail standards, and his letter was forwarded to the Texas Commission on Jail Standards (TCJS), the agency charged with monitoring some 250 county lockups. TCJS reported finding no evidence to corroborate Voorhees’ charged and closed the case. But Voorhees, still barred from Taylor County jails, has continued to communicate with inmates, report abuses and demand an investigation.
Adam Munoz, executive director of TJCS, says sheriffs are free to ban volunteer chaplains. “The chaplain can be denied by the sheriff; that is totally within his discretion,” Munoz says.
As others encouraged her to challenge her ban in court, Hanson found comfort in positive reports from women who still wrote and called her. After the public airing of their inmates’ treatment, the women had been moved out of the notoriously dark, cold, third-floor high security jail into the lighter, Detention Center II (DC II), where a recreation area and toilet paper were made available. Lt. Hilda Treviño and Pax Christi leader Jean Krause were allowed to start classes in anger management, narcotics anonymous, parenting, life skills and GED preparation. Almost immediately, Hanson was hearing, the women’s attitudes had improved. One wrote the local newspaper to praise the classes.
“As a result of my participation I saw an opportunity for hope by expressing my feelings from my inner self and guidance to make good use of the time while I’m in a jail cell,” wrote Jeanne Jimenez.
Even so, Hanson and Krause wondered: Were these reforms simply an attempt at good public relations during the sheriff’s election cycle? In the summer of 2009, the answer apparently came when the women were moved back into the hated old jail and the classes were cancelled. TCJS Assistant Director Shannon Herklotz says that the newer building did not meet security standards required for some of the female inmates, so the jail administrator had little choice on that move. She cannot explain why the classes and other activities were curtailed.
“I am not sure why the same activities for the females cannot be carried out at the old jail as they were carried out in DC II,” says Herklotz.
Sheriff Lucio, who declined interview requests for this story, told Krause that there wasn’t enough space or enough officers to supervise rehabilitative classes. Krause offered to pay the cost for the additional guard required, but Lucio turned down the offer. Chief Deputy Reyna now says that when and if changes made by the jail are approved by TCJS, the female inmates can be returned to DC II and some classes resumed.
Krause intends to continue working with the sheriff. Meanwhile, Hanson hopes to return to counseling the women herself. But her lawsuit against the sheriff and county is a long way from fruition.
At the start, Hanson believed that she and the sheriff could work together to change the conditions and, ultimately, the lives of inmates. But her pastor, James Odabashian, grew up in the lower Rio Grande Valley and perhaps saw more clearly the way Hanson’s criticism was interpreted. Speaking truth to power in Cameron County, he says, is often seen as disrespectful and threatening. The person—especially a woman in this still macho culture—who does it becomes the enemy.
So while Hanson appears to be a gentle, blonde woman with a dazzling smile, in the eyes of some in Brownsville, she is a dangerous sort. “I’ll still stand by Gail Hanson as she speaks truth,” says Odabashian, “and I’ll lock my doors.” ..Source.. Diana Claitor
November 20, 2009
Heaven and Hell in Cameron County Jail
August 8, 2009
IA- Accidental accessing of child porn when attempting to turn off cellphone on booking was [reluctantly] a plain view
8-8-2009 Iowa:
Accidental accessing of pictures on a cellphone when attempting to turn it off before storage during defendant's booking revealed child porn pictures. This was not an unreasonable search because it was accidental and resulted in a plain view. Search incident, as argued by the government, would not apply because the phone was not a part of any crime. United States v. Yockey, 2009 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 67259 (N.D. Iowa August 3, 2009):
There is no dispute that Collison took Yockey's cell phone from him as part of standard booking procedures at the Woodbury County Jail. There also is no dispute that while performing these procedures, Collison did something that caused a pornographic image of a child to be displayed on the phone's screen, and he did so without a warrant to search the phone. The question is whether, under the circumstances of this case, this was an unlawful search...Source.. by The FOurth Amendment Blog
A search warrant is required to search the contents of a cell phone unless an exception to the warrant requirement exists. United States v. Flores, 122 F. Supp. 2d 491, 494-95 (S.D.N.Y. 2000) (search of cell phone's contents not part of proper inventory search); see United States v. Zavala, 541 F.3d 562, 577 (5th Cir. 2008) (possession of cell phone gives rise to reasonable expectation of privacy regarding its contents, citing United States v. Finley, 477 F.3d 250, 258-59 (5th Cir. 2007)); United States v. Quintana, 594 F. Supp. 2d 1291, 1299 (M.D. Fla. 2009) (an owner of a cell phone has a reasonable expectation of privacy in the electronic data stored on the phone, citing Quon v. Arch Wireless Operating Co., 529 F.3d 892, 905 (9th Cir. 2008)). The Government bears the burden of establishing the exception. Coolidge v. New Hampshire, 403 U.S. 443, 455, 91 S. Ct. 2022, 2032, 29 L. Ed. 2d 564 (1971); Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347, 357, 88 S. Ct. 507, 19 L. Ed. 2d 576 (1967).
The court finds that Collison had the right to turn the cell phone off as part of the jail's standard booking procedures. This was an entirely reasonable and standard administrative practice. Yockey had been arrested for driving with a suspended driver's license and taken to the jail. The jail was justified in removing his personal property from him before he was placed in the jail population. The jail also was justified in conducting an inventory of the property to document what was taken from him. However, the purpose behind these actions was not advanced by "general rummaging" through the cell phone's memory. See Florida v. Wells, 495 U.S. at 4, 110 S. Ct. at 1635; United States v. Park, 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 40596, 2007 WL 1521573, at *11 (N.D. Cal., May 23, 2007) (no legitimate governmental interests served by searching contents of a cell phone as part of booking process); United States v. Wall, 2008 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 103058, 2008 WL 5381412, at *4 (S.D. Fla., Dec.22, 2008) (same). There simply was no need to search the cell phone's memory to accomplish the purposes of the inventory search. Under the circumstances in this case, such a search was not a proper part of the inventorying process.
. . .
The court acknowledges that Collision's explanation seems, on the surface, to be implausible. However, after hearing all the evidence, which included a demonstration of the operations of the cell phone by the defense expert; considering the alternative explanations; and observing Collison's demeanor while testifying, the court finds him to be credible. Accordingly, the court finds that Collison's testimony concerning Yockey's booking, and the image Collison viewed on the cell phone during the booking process, should not be suppressed.
August 15, 2008
CA- Calif. Bill Bans Unsupported Jailhouse Testimony
8-15-2008 California:
SACRAMENTO -- California lawmakers have voted to ban use of uncorroborated testimony from jailhouse informants that is used to convict criminal defendants.
The state Assembly yesterday approved a bill by Senator Gloria Romero of Los Angeles that would prohibit use of the unsupported testimony. The Senate passed the measure in May.
Assemblyman Mark Leno of San Francisco says jailhouse informants frequently have an incentive to lie. He says Romero's bill would help prevent wrongful convictions.
But Assemblyman Todd Spitzer says the bill would make it difficult to prosecute crimes committed in jails and prisons. He said jurors should be the ones to judge the validity of an informant's testimony.
The 80-member Assembly passed the bill with a bare majority, 41-37. ..News Source.. by 4KNBC.com
July 13, 2008
Get-tough policies fill prisons, cause more crime, deny inmates a future
7-13-2008 National:
U.S. taxpayers spend at least $60 billion a year on a growing body of state and federal prisons, county jails and local lockups. With jail and prison populations that have increased nearly eightfold over the past 35 years, the United States has become the world's leading jailer.
More than one in every 100 U.S. adults is locked up -- and 5 million more are on probation or parole. At any given time, one in 32 adults is under the supervision of the criminal justice system.
Tough-on-crime policies, not increases in crime, are mostly responsible. Mandatory drug sentences, three-strike and so-called truth-in-sentencing laws, as well as high recidivism rates, have created our Incarceration Nation. Even so, violent crime rates are higher than when the nation's prison building boom started more than three decades ago.
It's time to reverse failed sentencing policies, restore certain social and legal rights for ex-felons, and slow the revolving doors of the penal system with better re-entry, education and training programs. Fully funding the Second Chance Act, which provides money for state and federal re-entry programs, would keep more ex-inmates out of prison.
Criminal justice reforms are critical to the health of the nation's cities, and they must become part of the next president's urban agenda. Most of the more than 600,000 people a year leaving U.S. prisons and jails return to disadvantaged urban neighborhoods. They go home poorly educated, lacking job skills, and socially and legally disabled by felony records.
Going to prison has become a norm in certain big-city neighborhoods, even a rite of passage. While mass incarceration has aimed to reduce crime, it has actually increased it by breaking up social networks and removing financial and emotional support from families and communities. Nearly half of the 2.3 million adults locked up are African Americans, who make up less than 13% of the U.S. population. A stunning one in nine black males between the ages of 20-34 is behind bars.
Felony convictions, whether or not they carried prison sentences, attach lifetime penalities to tens of millions of Americans. Roughly 1.8 million people in Michigan, for example, have criminal records, or nearly one in four adults. Most are felony offenders, with all that entails for future prospects. These staggering statistics hold true for the nation as a whole, with more than 55 million people with criminal records.
Kansas sets an example
Nationwide, nearly two of three offenders who get out of prison go back. Reducing recidivism is one of the best, and least controversial, ways to lower the prison population. With bipartisan support, many states are developing programs to help released inmates find jobs, housing and treatment. Such efforts have helped Kansas become one of the few states to lower prison populations, from a high of 9,181 in 2004 to 8,671 today.
Low-risk offenders in Kansas who violate parole conditions are no longer automatically sent back to prison. Instead, many are supervised and assisted in the community at a fraction of the cost.
Carlis Rogers, 23, was released in December, after serving 2 1/2 years on a drug possession charge. During a traffic stop in January, a police officer discovered a small amount of cocaine in the glove compartment of a car he was driving but didn't own. Rogers said he didn't know the drugs were there, but the incident would have, five years ago, resulted in revocation.
Instead, Rogers was assigned in February to a day reporting center in Wichita, one of two such programs in Kansas run under contract by Colorado-based BI Inc. The centers, supervising 140 offenders at a time, are part of a successful effort by the Kansas Department of Corrections to keep low-risk offenders in the community, despite parole violations.
Parolees like Rogers are assigned to the reporting centers for six to nine months. The intense supervision includes curfews, electronic GPS monitoring, mandatory reporting three to six days a week, random drug tests, community service projects, group therapy sessions, and help with substance abuse, mental health and employment problems. Most offenders also work or attend school full-time.
"If you come into this with an open mind, you can really get something out of it," Rogers said after a group session on critical thinking.
The center helped Rogers get enrolled in a local community college and line up financial aid. He's taking a 12-week aero structure technician course in sheet metal work. After he earns a certificate this month, he'll make about $15 an hour in Wichita's thriving aircraft industry.
Even more important, Rogers is learning to think about his decisions. "I can choose to do something to go back to prison or not," he said.
New ways of thinking
In Kansas, more offenders are choosing to stay out of prison.
Five years ago, an average of 203 parolees were sent back to prison each month. By last year, the number dropped to 103 a month -- and the improvement was not due to lax enforcement. The number of absconders and parolees with convictions for new crimes has also dropped. "People posing significant risk to the community still go back to prison," said Kent Sisson, a regional parole director. "But we think that, historically, a lot of folks we sent back to prison weren't posing that kind of risk."
Kansas also started re-entry programs two years ago that helped reduce recidivism from 60% to less than 45%. The number of parolees going back to prison for parole violations has dropped from 3,100 in 2000 to less than 1,300 last year.
Twelve to 18 months before they're released, high-risk inmates meet with employers, housing providers, social service agencies and medical providers. They also meet with cognitive specialists that emphasize personal responsibility and self-control.
The aim is to help inmates on their way out develop new ways of thinking, as well as line up housing, social services, education and jobs.
Kansas has hired a business developer to inform employers about the advantages of hiring ex-offenders, including federal tax credits. It also has drug and alcohol specialists who help assess substance abuse problems and coordinate community treatment, and a housing specialist to work with landlords who might not otherwise rent to parolees. Too often, parolees have been virtually forced to return to housing that puts them near criminal activity.
All parole officers are now trained in so-called motivational interviewing techniques that help them get inmates to think through problems, develop goals and make better choices. A few parole officers derisively called the change "hug a thug," but most understand that the new approach works.
The department has set up accountability panels made up of corrections staff and community members, including ex-inmates, who meet with offenders upon release and during parole. The panel provides tough talk, when needed, but also celebrates successes.
"That's something corrections isn't known for," said Sally Frey, a Kansas re-entry director. "But as human beings, we're motivated more by reward than punishment."
Private industry helps
Private industry programs in Kansas also better prepare inmates for freedom, easing budget problems that would otherwise increase idleness and jeopardize vocational programs in the state's eight prisons, said Rodney Crawford, director of Kansas Correctional Industries.
Nearly 30 companies employ more than 800 inmates -- 530 of them in leased shops and factories inside prisons. Most inmates in private industry programs make prevailing wages of up to $12 an hour, and all make at least the federal minimum wage of $5.85 an hour. That compares to other prison jobs that pay as little as 40 cents a day, and no more than 60 cents an hour.
Industry jobs inside Kansas prisons include embroidering sportswear, cut-and-sew leather products and cabinet manufacturing.
The state deducts 25% of the wages for room and board and 5% for restitution. Another 10% is set aside for a mandatory savings account. Inmates often leave prison with more than $10,000, which enables them to secure housing and get a solid start.
For some inmates, private industry jobs start careers.
Scott Whiteman, now 36, started working as a welder at Henke Manufacturing in Leavenworth eight years ago as a minimum-security inmate, making snow removal equipment for minimum wage.
When he finished a seven-year stretch for aggravated robbery in 2003, Whiteman continued working at Henke as a welder, roughly doubling his pay. He was recently promoted to supervisor over 20 welders, doubling his pay again.
"Working and keeping up your child support make you feel responsible," he said. "When you get out, you want to keep that feeling. The only way to do it is to keep working."
For other offenders like Carl Mitchell, 41, with long prison sentences in front of them, working provides a way to pay for college courses, support families and sharpen job skills. Convicted of rape, Mitchell might not get out before 2029.
"This is more like a normal life and it motivates you to be responsible," said Mitchell, who earns $6.12 an hour as a finisher in a garment embroidery and print screen shop run by Impact Design Inc. The company employs more than 300 inmates at Lansing Correctional Facility.
Tight budgets force solutions
Mass incarceration has created economic and human costs the nation can no longer afford. Michigan spends $2 billion a year on corrections, or 20% of its general fund. It is one of four states spending more on corrections than higher education.
Community supervision and treatment, allowing offenders to continue to support their families, work best for many low-risk and drug offenders and cost a fraction of the $30,000 a year each prison inmate costs. Health care costs for some inmates can total hundreds of thousands of dollars. Severely sick and dying inmates who pose no risk should be released.
Mandatory sentencing policies, including three strikes laws, have imposed unreasonably harsh sentences on many nonviolent offenders and ought to be repealed, as should disparities between crack and powder cocaine sentencing. States and cities must remove some of the barriers to employment, housing and education faced by the tens of millions of people with felony convictions. The good news is that budget pressures are forcing other states, including Michigan, to take steps to control their prison populations.
Unacceptably high incarceration rates tear at the nation's social fabric and divert money from education, health care, transportation and other needs. It's time to build a more rational, cost-effective and humane criminal justice system. ..News Source.. by Detroit Free Press
June 26, 2008
3.2 Percent of Inmates Report Sexual Victimization in Local Jails
6-26-2008 National:
An estimated 3.2 percent of jail inmates (24,700) reported one or more incidents of sexual victimization in a survey mandated by the Prison Rape Elimination Act, the Justice Department's Bureau of Justice Statistics announced today. About 1.6 percent of all inmates (12,100) reported an incident involving another inmate, 2.0 percent (15,200) reported an incident involving jail staff, and 0.4 percent reported being victimized by both other inmates and staff.
The survey limited reporting by inmates to incidents occurring in the past 6 months or since their admission to the jail, if more recent. Sexual victimization is defined as all types of sexual activity, including inmate-on-inmate nonconsensual sexual acts and abusive sexual contacts or unwanted touching. It also includes both willing and unwilling sexual activity with staff. An estimated 1.3 percent of inmates (10,400) said they had sex or sexual contact unwillingly with staff, and 1.1 percent (8,400) said they willingly had sexual contact with staff.
The survey was conducted in 282 randomly selected local jails between April and December 2007, with a sample of 40,419 inmates. Eighteen jail facilities had an overall sexual victimization rate of at least twice the national average of 3.2 percent, and 18 facilities had no reports of sexual victimization from inmates.
The Torrance County Detention Facility (New Mexico) recorded the highest overall rate of sexual victimization (13.4 percent). When sexual victimization excluded allegations of touching only, the Torrance County Detention Facility remained the highest with 8.9 percent, followed by the Brevard County Detention Center in Florida (7.8 percent), the Bernalillo County Metropolitan Detention Center in New Mexico (6.7 percent), and the Southeastern Ohio Regional Jail (5.8 percent).
Overall, 0.6 percent of all jail inmates reported an injury related to sexual victimization. Among all victims, 16 percent reported minor injuries (such as bruises, cuts, or scratches), 8 percent reported being knocked unconscious, 6 percent reported anal or rectal tearing, 6 percent internal injuries, 3 percent broken bones, and 2 percent knife or stab wounds.
Inmate-on-inmate sexual victimization most often occurred in the victim's cell or room (56 percent of reports). Staff-on-inmate sexual victimization most often occurred in a closet, office, or other locked room (47 percent). Nearly 62 percent of all reported incidents of staff sexual misconduct involved female staff with male inmates; 8 percent involved male staff with female inmates.
An estimated 5.1 percent of female inmates compared to 2.9 percent of male inmates said they had experienced one or more incidents of sexual victimization. About 4.6 percent of inmates ages 18 to 24 reported sexual assault, compared to 2.4 percent of inmates age 25 and older.
Inmates with a sexual orientation other than heterosexual reported significantly higher rates of sexual victimization. An estimated 2.7 percent of heterosexual inmates alleged an incident, compared to 18.5 percent of homosexual inmates, and 9.8 percent of bisexual inmates or inmates indicating "other" as an orientation.
The Prison Rape Elimination Act requires the Bureau of Justice Statistics to conduct an annual data collection to measure the incidence of prison rape in at least 10 percent of the nation's correctional facilities. It also requires the Attorney General to provide a listing of institutions ranked according to the incidence of prison rape. As a consequence of sampling error, the survey cannot provide the three jail facilities with the highest rates of victimization.
The survey consisted of an audio computer-assisted self interview (ACASI) in which inmates, using a touch-screen laptop, interacted with a computer-assisted questionnaire and followed instructions via headphones. Inmate participation was voluntary, with 67 percent completing the survey.
The report, Sexual Victimization in Local Jails Reported by Inmates, 2007 (NCJ 221946), was written by BJS statisticians Allen J. Beck and Paige M. Harrison. Following publication, the report can be found HERE
..News Source.. by DOJ
June 7, 2008
U.S. Prison Population Hits All-Time High: 2.3 Million Incarcerated
6-6-2008 National:
Prison Inmates at Midyear 2007
Jail Inmates at Midyear 2007
DOJ Report Reveals Record Numbers in Prisons Last Year, With Huge Economic Impacts
The Justice Department has released a new report showing the nation's prison and jail population reached a record 2.3 million people last year.
The report notes that in the 10 largest states, prison populations increased "during 2006 at more than three times (3.2 percent) the average annual rate of growth (0.9 percent) from 2000 through 2005."
The new report from the Bureau of Justice Statistics found that in the first half of 2007 the growth rate slowed, but prison admissions growth outpaced the number of prison releases. The report provides a breakdown, noting "of the 2.3 million inmates in custody, 2.1 million were men and 208,300 were women. Black males represented the largest percentage (35.4 percent) of inmates held in custody, followed by white males (32.9 percent) and Hispanic males (17.9 percent)."
The United States leads the industrialized world in incarceration. In fact, the U.S. rate of incarceration (762 per 100,000) is five to eight times that of other highly developed countries, according to The Sentencing Project, a criminal justice think tank.
Some of the key factors for the record imprisonment rate include:
Race: Black males continue to be incarcerated at an extraordinary rate. Black males make up 35.4 percent of the jail and prison population — even though they make up less than 10 percent of the overall U.S population. Four percent of U.S. black males were in jail or prison last year, compared to 1.7 percent of Hispanic males and .7 percent of white males. In other words, black males were locked up at almost six times the rate of their white counterparts.
Immigration: Is it an emerging crime trend or is this the result of more local police and federal targeting of illegal immigrants? Non-U.S. citizens accounted for nearly 8 percent of the jail population at midyear 2007, the new Justice Department report noted. "From mid-year 2000 through midyear 2007, Hispanic men (120,000) represented the largest increase to the custody population," it said.
Locking up these prisoners comes with huge economic costs. The Sentencing Project estimates that cost to be $60 billion per year for federal, state and local prison systems.
Many states, facing budget crises, are struggling to pay for their corrections systems. As a result, many state programs are being slashed, with some states looking to release certain convicts early.
No fewer than eight states have recently contemplated releasing prisoners early. Others are planning to push some categories of newly convicted criminals into rehabilitation programs. Kentucky, California, Rhode Island, New Jersey, South Carolina and Vermont are among the states wrestling with these issues.
"The unrivaled growth of the United States' incarcerated population over 30 years casts a great burden on this nation," said Marc Mauer, executive director of The Sentencing Project. "The country's $60 billion prison budget results in less money for education, health care and child services. Communities need the resources to prevent crime by investing in youth and families."
In California and Kentucky alone, measures under consideration would allow for the release of tens of thousands of prisoners — the anticipated savings is $450 million dollars. Letting prisoners out — even ones convicted for nonviolent crimes — is politically risky business and most officials are loathe to do so. Why do it? Some states don't have a choice. California was facing a $16 billion deficit; Kentucky was facing a deficit of more than a $1 billion.
In Michigan, it costs $2 billion to run the corrections system. An increasing number of state leaders say they really can't afford to pay that kind of money.
"Our efforts to grow Michigan's economy and keep our state competitive are threatened by the rising costs in the Department of Corrections," Gov. Jennifer Granholm recently told The Detroit News. "We spend more on prisons than we do on higher education, and that has got to change."
-Longer sentences such as those compelled by the Adam Walsh Act means an aging population and with that comes HIGH MEDICAL COSTS which the state ignores when they establish sentences for crimes committed many of which are better handled in the community.
According the News, the Michigan Corrections Department already devours 20 cents of every tax dollar in the state's general fund and employs nearly one in every three state government workers, compared with 9 percent of the work force 25 years ago. ..News Source.. by PIERRE THOMAS and JASON RYAN
May 13, 2008
WI- Man collects $6,000 for jail worker's mistake
5-13-2008 Wisconsin:
St. Croix County's insurance company has paid $6,000 to a man erroneously identified by jail personnel as a registered sex offender.
In March 2006 a jail log released to local media indicated that Jeremy P. Gruwell, 22, River Falls, was booked into the St. Croix County Jail. The reason for the booking was given as "sex offender registration."
Sheriff Dennis Hillstead said Gruwell had been ordered by his probation agent to report to the jail to provide a DNA sample.
The department had been getting so many sex offenders coming in to register that the deputy recorded Gruwell's information incorrectly, said Hillstead.
"It was a pure mistake on (the officer's) part," said the sheriff.
A correction was subsequently printed in a community newspaper that published the information.
In June 2006, Gruwell, 1010 Sunset Lane, River Falls, submitted a claim to the county saying reports prepared by Sheriff's Department personnel were "false, erroneous and defamatory." He asked for $50,000 for "pain, emotional distress and damage to reputation."
The county rejected that claim, and in January 2007 Gruwell filed a civil lawsuit against the Sheriff's Department and the county.
According to the civil complaint, in March 2006 and at other times Gruwell had "official contracts" with the county and county officers.
But, according to the complaint, Gruwell "is not now, nor has he ever been, a registered sex offender as that term is defined by Wisconsin Statute or by its plain, understood meaning."
Trial was set for April 28, but the parties reached a settlement agreement earlier that month.
The release of claims signed by Gruwell and his attorney last month stipulates that payment of the $6,000 "is not to be construed as an admission of any liability whatsoever by or on behalf of (the county, the Sheriff's Department or Wisconsin Municipal Mutual Insurance Company), by whom all liability is expressly denied." ..more.. by Judy Wiff
April 1, 2008
Jails Are the ‘New Asylums,’ Report Says
4-1-2008 National:
Local jail populations are exploding and have become the "new asylums," with six of 10 inmates suffering from mental illness, according to a new report released today by the Justice Policy Institute.
The 38-page report (PDF) says that despite lower crime rates, the jail population has nearly doubled over the past 20 years.
Researchers note that jails are "warehousing" more individuals who have yet to be convicted of any crime and for longer periods of time. This is attributed, in part, to rising costs of bail.
“Jail bonds have skyrocketed, so that means if you’re poor, you do time. People are being punished before they’re found guilty—justice is undermined," report co-author Amanda Petteruti said in a release about the findings.
The report, Jailing Communities: The Impact of Jail Expansion and Effective Public Safety Strategies, says that communities are struggling to deal with jails full of individuals with drug addictions, who are homeless or who are charged with immigration offenses.
Racial disparities were also noted. For instance, Latinos were revealed to be the most likely to have to pay bail, have the highest bail amounts and are least likely to be released before trial. African-Americans are five times as likely to be jailed than whites and three times as likely as Latinos.
The report makes several recommendations, including that communities should:
-- Improve release procedures for pretrial and sentenced populations.
-- Develop and implement alternatives to incarceration, such as community-based corrections.
-- Divert people with mental health and drug treatment needs to the public health system and community-based treatment, which is more cost-effective than incarceration. ..more.. by Molly McDonough
