As one of the first states to confront the ghastly reality of the COVID-19 pandemic, New Jersey prepared for what many saw as inevitable: an outbreak in its jails and prisons.
“I may not be in contact for a few weeks,” he said. The Pennsylvania Department of Corrections (DOC) was transferring people from his prison, SCI Rockview in Bellefonte, Pa., to other prisons throughout the state.
The public won’t know their names, their ages nor why they were behind bars. They won’t hear their interaction with the person whose job is to check them for symptoms weekly. Nor will they hear the thoughts running through their minds as they sit in their cell, isolated from the unprecedented chaos outside.
On July 11, 2019, New Jersey Gov. Phil Murphy used the power of his pen to seize a unique political opportunity: putting his signature on one of the most ground-breaking laws in the country limiting the use of solitary confinement for juveniles.
The last will and testament came in an email, one most likely monitored by the state. It came from a prisoner, incarcerated for decades at the Louisiana State Penitentiary, better known as Angola. He composed and sent it shortly after the Louisiana Sheriffs’ Association and the Louisiana Department of Public Safety and Corrections (DOC) opened a shuttered camp previously notorious for being a site of solitary confinement and violence.
I've seen far too many times how crisis and death unite people, but that unity and common thread that binds all people together is often very short lived, even in a place like Angola. Ranking officials, like Major Bellamy, says "Its us against them," during roll call. Of course other security, who perhaps take offense to that statement, always share their anger, frustration, and anxiety. But when the Coronavirus hit Angola, especially here in Ash dormitory, things began to change very quickly. The usual communication between security and the offender population changed instantly.
Caliph Muab-El entered the prison system at 15 as the youngest person in Wisconsin to be tried as an adult after being convicted of a shooting. He walked out 15 years later with nowhere to go and no guidance on how to acclimate back into his community.
As the number of confirmed COVID-19 cases inside New York prisons continues to rise, the Legal Aid Society of New York recently announced 20 emergency clemency applications for inmates with medical conditions that put them at high risk for complications from the virus.
New details are emerging about how a failed COVID-19 containment response by city officials sowed chaos among agency staff and left vulnerable detained youth at greater risk of contracting the disease.