San Quentin News

Written By Inmates - Advancing Social Justice

Keeping the conversation going about HIV on World AIDS Day at SQ

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Almost 20 years ago, Andrew Yancy felt a small lump on his neck. He told a nurse he thought it was a spider bite. There were examinations and tests — the results shocked him — he had been infected with the human immunodeficiency virus (HIV).

Since then, Yancy says he’s serious about educating people about HIV. He had a chance to make good on his word, when two local non-profits geared to serve those suffering from HIV/AIDS came to San Quentin the day after World AIDS Day.

Acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS) is a term that applies to the advanced stages of HIV infection.

“The most important thing is keeping the conversation going,” Yancy said, “and not for just HIV patients — everyone needs to be involved.”

“This is an important issue,” said Lisa Strawn, a San Quentin prisoner and emcee of our first-ever Transgender Day of Remembrance. “It’s about saving lives, not just the LBGTQ community. There’s tattooing, drug use and not everybody is going to be up front. This day is important in so many ways. So, it’s disappointing that there aren’t any medical staff here.”

The non-profits that came to talk to the prisoners, Until There’s A Cure and AIDS Project of the East Bay (APEB), work toward HIV/AIDS awareness and providing services to those directly impacted by the virus.

“We need to get past being shunned, afraid to shake hands,” said Ed Jones of APEB. “Those living with HIV should not be shunned away.”

APEB holds discussion groups to talk about the stigma and challenges faced.

“It’s a good way to vent and share when there’s something going on,” Jones said. “It’s a great place to go, and we feed you.”

The National Institute of Health reports that, today, there are medications for HIV treatment and to prevent its transmission, which enables a person to live a nearly normal lifespan.

APEB operates a health clinic that, in addition to offering patient care and case management, is involved with community outreach and testing. The non-profit also has a workforce education and training program, transgender support services, youth activities as well as pastoral care and counseling.

“I can relate to being here,” said APEB staffer, Mikiya “Fefe.” “I’m transgender, and I was in prison for three years and transgender.” He told the audience that he knows firsthand what it’s like not to be educated and not have support or guidance and then go back to the streets. I want to be a beacon so no matter what background you come from you have support.”

Dora Hanna, executive director of Until There’s A Cure, assists those with felony convictions obtain housing. The organization also has raised more than $23 million by selling bracelets to support non-profits focused on HIV/AIDS related issues.

“When you’re homeless, the risk of infection from HIV goes up,” Hanna said. “If you self-medicate and engage in risky behavior and have poor eating habits, the risk goes up. Until We Find A Cure aims to eliminate barriers and to make the drugs more accessible. Everyone deserves a place to live.”

HIV is found in certain bodily fluids of people living with HIV, including blood, semen, vaginal fluids, rectal fluids and breast milk. HIV can be transmitted by:

  • Unprotected vaginal or anal sex, and, in very rare cases, through oral sex with a person who has HIV; blood transfusion of contaminated blood.
  • Sharing of needles, syringes, other injecting equipment as well as exposure to other sharp instruments.
  • From a mother with HIV to her infant during pregnancy, childbirth or breastfeeding.

If a person living with HIV is on antiretroviral therapy, which effectively suppresses HIV in the body, their chance of transmitting HIV to another person is greatly reduced. This class of drugs is available to prisoners in California.

For more information, write to:

APEB

8400 Enterprise Way, Suite 118

Oakland, CA 94621

Raising awareness during 2nd annual Mental Wellness Week

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—Joe Garcia —David Ditto and Anthony Faulk contributed

CDCR Undersecretary Kathleen Allison, BPH Chief Psychologist Cliff Kusaj and BPH’s Jennifer Shaffer holding up Hope T-shirts

Incarcerated and outside members of the San Quentin community joined forces to emotionally support one another and raise awareness during the prison’s second annual Mental Wellness Week.

“This week is about all of us coming together to encourage hope—no one should feel they have to go it alone,” said Dr. S. McCarver, SQ’s Chief of Mental Health for the last four years.

“There should be no stigma for simply reaching out for help— reaching out for support.”

The schedule of daily events from Sept. 8 to 14 included a highly anticipated panel featuring Board of Parole Hearing (BPH) Executive Officer Jennifer Shaffer and BPH Chief Psychologist Cliff Kusaj.

Participant David Rodriguez asking BPH’s Jennifer Shaffer a question

They came to speak about and clarify how the BPH regards documented mental health issues—and how be- ing involved in prison mental healthcare potentially affects a lifer’s parole suitability.

SQ’s Chief Deputy Warden Ron Broomfield set the week’s tone with a personal story about his own struggles with severe depression and his reluctance to share his experience with others.


Cliff Kusaj answering questions from participants

“I’d been asked to speak twice and declined both times, but seeing all you guys’ inter- est in mental wellness gives me the courage to address you today,” he told an audience of prisoners, staff and volunteers on the Lower Yard.

“Working at Corcoran in 2009, I developed serious depression,” he said. “I could hide it at work and act like everything was fine.

“But where I couldn’t hide it was home. They got the worst of me.”

Broomfield described how his wife threatened to expose his mental problems with his coworkers if he refused to seek help.

“I remember sitting in my car out in the Corcoran park- ing lot, trying to summon up the courage to talk to someone,” he continued. “It was probably the most courageous thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“I always thought of myself as a healthy person, but hope really started when I sat in that car and decided I was going to talk to someone,” he said. “You can be free and a prisoner in your own mind— or locked up but free inside your mind.”

One of the week’s organizers, Dr. R. Thomas of SQ Mental Health, urged Broomfield to speak at the event. “I’m so grateful he shared his story with you guys,” she said. “It was in- credibly brave of him.”

Guys who know they need help are afraid to ask for that help…‘the Board’s not gonna let me out.’ But believe me; nothing could be further from the truth”

The ongoing theme of hope brought a packed crowd to the SQ chapel Sept. 11, where prisoners were ready to hear what Kusaj and Shaffer had to say about the BPH process.

California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) Undersecretary Kathleen Allison gave open- ing remarks before Kusaj and Shaffer engaged with the chapel audience.

“I’m passionate about this subject and have remained focused on suicide prevention,” said Allison. “It’s each and every one of [us] — our responsibility. If you see someone who might be in distress or mental crisis— reach out.”

Describing Shaffer as “a real rock star,” Allison set the stage for her by saying, “If you’re not a risk to public safety, she’s going to do everything she can for you.”

Schaffer started by connecting the history of the BPH to the evening’s mental well- ness theme—Hope Looks Forward.

“In 1979, California sentenced 907 prisoners to life with the possibility of parole,” Shaffer detailed. “And in that same year, only one person was actually granted parole.

“But take 2018, Jerry Brown’s last year in office. 1,016 prisoners were admitted into the system with life with the possibility of parole sentences—while 1096 prisoners were found suitable.

“That’s the first time since 1978 that more lifers were paroled rather than sentenced.”

Shaffer then focused her presentation on discussing potential parolees’ concerns about how receiving mental healthcare might reflect badly on their CDCR record.

“I know there’s a lot of myths out there,” she said. “Guys who know they need help are afraid to ask for that help.

“So many of you think if you need help, ‘the Board’s not gonna let me out.’ But believe me; nothing could be further from the truth.

“Think about it—plenty of people on the outside go get help. That’s actually healthy behavior.”

Shaffer encouraged the SQ crowd to utilize all available mental health resources, both inside and also after they are paroled.

“It’s an incredibly stressful time in your life to be re- leased from state prison,” she said. “That’s a big reason why the Board stresses transitional housing—not so we can watch you more closely, but so you’re surrounded by people who’ve walked the same path.”

Shaffer soon segued into what the majority of the audience came for—clarity on what the Board expects to see before granting a lifer’s parole date.

“We want to see if you’ve done the work,” Shaffer explained. “If you have truly transformed, you’ll be speak- ing a different language. You’ll show more insight—be more aware, more intuitive, more in touch with how you think.”

Shaffer also stressed the importance of understanding the difference between acknowledging the victim impact on an offender’s community but without carrying the shame of their crime around with them.

She detailed a research paper written by Kusaj which analyzed some psychological factors between offenders who recidivate and those who do not.

“What’s the difference?” she asked everyone. “Shame. If you find it hard to like your- self, you’ll find it incredibly difficult to create a positive narrative.

“Try to think of the bad things you may have done as in the third person. Learn how to explain who that person was and how they’re different today.”

Kusaj set out to answer the following questions: What are the Board psychologists look- ing for? What changes do they want to see? What should guys expect during their psychological review?

In regard to psych review expectations, Kusaj explained, “Ultimately, we need to be able to understand, contextualize and make sense of your violent actions—and how that’s been mitigated over time.

“Can you make sense of the darkness, badness and wrong decisions? Have you matured and changed during your incarceration?”

He listed a compendium of psychological and emotional shifts he directs his staff to look for—such as being open and honest versus circumventing the truth or rejecting violence as a problem-solving solution, or being fair and forgiving versus being vindictive and punishing.

“In short, we want to see life transformations,” said Kusaj. “When we evaluate risk assessment, it’s quite simple. What went wrong in your life? And where are you now?

“Don’t rehearse. Don’t try to anticipate our questions. You’re there to try to help the psychologist better understand your crime-causing factors.”

Kusaj also wanted the audience to recognize the structural difference between a forensic interview rather than a therapy session.

“Think of it more like a job interview. Because of time considerations, expect to be interrupted,” he said. “Expect to be challenged. We’re neither advocates nor adversaries. Our interests lie solely in your safe release to the community.”

Although Kusaj was nowhere near giving the full ex- planation he’d hoped to offer, Shaffer stopped him to allow the panel to field questions from the eager crowd. Most questions inevitably revolved around each prisoner’s personal BPH experience.

Allison and Shaffer eventually started a list for each person to write down their name, CDCR# and specific issue they want resolved.

Shaffer assured the crowd that every BPH scheduling commitment will be fulfilled. “Last year, we held 5,300 Board hearings statewide, and this year we’ve got 7,300 scheduled,” she said. “We’ll continue that pace every year until everyone who should be seen is.”

Allison equally reassured everyone that her CDCR office is reviewing every single prisoner’s file for 1170(d) re-sentencing consideration.

“You guys don’t have to submit anything to us,” she said. “If you’re disciplinary free, done exceptional programming or fit any of the enhancement criteria, we’ll petition the court on your behalf.

“We’ve had amazing success from the courts so far. Our priority is always going to be focused on the guys who already have the most time in. Those are the cases that need to be reviewed first.”

The last two days of Mental Wellness Week consisted of pure community interaction and celebration. The chapel shook with energy and emotion on Sept. 13 as prisoners and staff alike took part in a talent showcase—opening up and performing pieces themed around mental health.

Dr. K. O’Meara, CDCR Regional Health Administer, took to the podium and read an essay by Death Row prisoner Joseph Manuel Montes.

“It’s important to represent those who can’t be here them- selves tonight,” she said.

The highlight of the talent show may have been Dr. Thomas’ promised rendition of Sade’s “Soldier of Love.” The audience cheered in awe and appreciation as Thomas hit all the right notes without batting an eye.

Fully participating at every event that week, Thomas and her vocals underscored the commitment of the SQ Mental Health staff to stay immersed in this community.

Professional healthcare workers showed up at San Quentin

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Personal well-being was the theme of the day at San Quentin’s 16th Annual Health Fair.

A diverse array of professionals from the healthcare industry ventured inside the walls of San Quentin to educate the incarcerated about physical and mental health.

“Everybody matters and their health should be valued,” said nurse Mike, a volunteer, “I’ve worked with underprivileged populations before and I believe that every person deserves the right to health education.”

The event was sponsored by TRUST (Teaching Responsibility Utilizing Societal Techniques), a self-help group at San Quentin specializing in teaching emotional intelligence and mindfulness. The 10-month curriculum is taught by Diana Kronstadt, Fran Engstrom, Quillen Powers, Helaine Melnitzer, and Susanne Siciliano.

Nurse Mike spent the day at the Nurse’s Station measuring the blood glucose and cholesterol levels of the incarcerated. The Nurse’s Station was one of several health activities on San Quentin’s lower yard.

Other screening areas at the Nurse’s Station included blood pressure measurement, body mass index calculation, vision testing and auditory exams. Incarcerated individuals filled out a tracking sheet, which was then used to record their results for personal documentation. When one of the student nurse volunteers gave an individual a result, they took the time to ex- plain what each number meant and give tips on how incarcerated individuals could improve their health through lifestyle choices.

“Y’all need to stop eatin’ all them soups!” one of the nurses yelled aloud in a general statement to all the men in blue, “All that sodium ain’t good for your heart or your blood pressure!”

Larry Vitale, a professor of nursing from San Francisco State University, has organized troupes of nursing students to volunteer at the health fair for the past 16 years.

“It’s a symbiotic relationship as our students are changed by this as well,” said Professor Vitale. “The educational aspect of volunteering here allows the future nurses to be exposed to the marginalized.”

Professor Vitale wants people to realize that incarcerated individuals are people too and to treat the less fortunate with dignity.

Another popular area at the health fair was the gym. Activities in the gym included chiropractic adjustment, acupressure therapy, diabetic education, and a Tai Chi exercise.

“When I got my backed cracked, I felt all the ten- sion leave my body,” said Yahya Malik who recently transferred from High Desert State Prison,“It helped with my self-awareness cuz I didn’t even know I was tense.”

He also enjoyed the Tai Chi exercise.

“I ain’t never done that before,” said Malik, “I thought it was a martial art, but it’s more like a moving meditation.”

Reverend Deborah Lee from the Asian Prisoner Support Committee led the Tai Chi sessions. It was her seventh year attending the health fair.

“I always get a lot out of it, to see all of the programs at San Quentin,” Reverend Lee said.

David Liao, a massage therapist from the American College of Traditional Chinese Medicine in San Francisco said he had some apprehension before coming into San Quentin, but once he started meeting the incarcerated individuals his apprehension “melted away.”

“It’s awesome. I love what we can do to help you guys,” said Liao.

The diabetic station educated the men in blue about lifestyle issues regarding diabetes. The station was sponsored by the diabetic program, a 16-week class that teaches incarcerated individuals with diabetes how to monitor their blood sugar and teaches them about their disease.

“I think it’s important to empower the men,” said Kim Bailey, a nurse and sponsor for the San Quentin diabetic program.

In the education building, a mental health class taught the men in blue about general mental health, sports, leisure, mindfulness, through a jeopardy- style game. Handouts included: “How to Meditate,” “Gratitude,” “Recreation Therapy Boggle” and “Organ Systems Crosswords.”

Near the baseball diamond, the incarcerated got a chance to sit down with doctors to have their health questions answered, such as the ap- propriate amount of water to drink each day or what kinds of food to stay away from. After the conversa- tions, the doctors gave each

incarcerated person a granola bar. Also on the lower yard were tables for the California Reentry Program, Center-force, CDCR Mental Health, LRC(Love, Respect, and Communication), and Health Education(Alameda County Public Health Services and UCSF residents).

“We’re here to sign up people who aren’t familiar with our program,”said Anne F. of the California Reentry Program, “Whether they have a parole date or a release date, we can help get them ready for parole, get their resume ready for employment opportunities, help them find housing, help get the necessary identification they’ll need upon release Social Security card, California I.D., etc.”

The California Reentry Program has regular meetings on Tuesday nights and Friday afternoons. During these meetings, attendees are individually assisted by a reentry specialist to plan for a successful integration back into society upon their release.

At the Love, Respect and Communication (LRC) table, Dr. Arnold Chavez spoke to groups of five individuals for three-minute segments, explaining the principles of LRC.

“When we think of love and respect, communication is the foundation for both of these. We need to have strong communication skills,” he said, “You wouldn’t be here if you’d communicated better. Can I say that?”

Most of his audience nodded their heads in agreement.

At the spiritual healing station, prayers could be heard in both English and Spanish.

Jose Gomez, a volunteer at the spiritual healing table, attended with his wife Micaela Carteno.

“It’s a blessing for me, to give a little bit back as God has given to me. I receive love from God. I give love to my brother,” said Gomez.

The Center force table showed a video which covered topics such as hepatitis, STDs, tuberculosis, HIV, as well as warnings about risks associated with tattoos and drug needles.

Each San Quentin resident was given a ticket which list- ed the different stations at the fair. After going to each station, a stamp was given to each individual. After receiving three stamps, attendees were able to redeem their ticket for a toothbrush and a mini toothpaste.

“Before coming in, I had an expected fear of inmates, prejudices and anxiety, but I will recommend this day to all nursing students,” said nursing student Alina. With a smile on her face, she said about prison, “It’s not what it’s like on television!”

WALL CITY, VOLUME 2, ISSUE 2:An antidote to grief and pain

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What can compassion do? Squelch rumors, train volunteers, and provide support at the California Institution for Women

In 2015, women at the California Institution for Women (CIW) in Corona were traumatized by a sudden and unexpected death of a women in the Housing Unit who was very dear to all of us. The California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) housing, medical and responding staff all handled this death efficiently and sensitively. The Program Office called me, a program leader in our newly begun Compassionate Companions Program (CCP), to be present when the roommate of the recently deceased woman was informed. All of the community rallied to help those who reacted most strongly to this death. What became even more critical was to immediately squelch the rumor mill that the roommate did not inform staff quickly enough, or even that the room- mate was responsible for the death of her friend. A rumor partially inflated when staff followed procedure in placing the roommate in handcuffs while escorting her to medical for a routine evaluation. This poor roommate was traumatized by finding her friend unconscious.

I gathered all the CCP members in Unit A and asked them to help squelch this bogus and dangerous rumor, soliciting support from our housing staff. The CCP members were fantastic and within 24 hours the whole rumor mill had been put to rest. Each CCP member gave examples of how they squelched the rumors—in the medication line, dining hall, everywhere. This was a huge step in creating a culture of caring, empathy and cooperation at CIW.

To some, the concept of prisons and compassion seem opposed. Prisons are not easy places to live. There is so much internal struggling for power and dominance among prisoners, staff and protocols. But if ever a system needed more compassion, it would be the prison system where nothing, almost nothing, is given kindness or consideration.

The creation of Compassionate Companions Program here at CIW seemed initially to be a far-fetched, altruistic illusion in 2014. But with a little vision on the part of some administrators, a Compassionate Companions Pro- gram was begun. The purpose of CCP as authorized by then-Warden Hughes is to provide clearly defined support and compassion for fellow prisoners who are experiencing any serious illness, grief, loss or other catastrophic—emotional experience. Trained CCP volunteers maintain vigil for prisoners at end of life so they do not have to cross that thresh- old alone. The intention is to uphold their dignity and ease their suffering. The CCP does not provide crisis counseling nor does it replace nursing or medical care, but it does offer listening, companionship, letter-writing, and a broad range of support and friendship within the constraints of CIW regulations.

The Compassionate Companions Program is a nationwide program that provides training to community members—outside of prison as well as inside. Our initial volunteer group of 35 people at CIW received significant hours of training in palliative care, suicide and bullying prevention, and relation- ship/consensus building. Over the past few years, we have been able to train a series of new volunteers to continue the work. With clearance from administrative staff, CCP volunteers are able to visit with people at the end of life, those who have chronic illnesses or disabilities and are living in long-term care units, and throughout all of our housing units to help work to create a supportive community.

At the request of Mental Health Ser- vices, CCP members were asked to assist a woman who had recently received a terminal diagnosis. We went to see her after clearing our visit with housing staff and were able to provide support for her in several ways. We accompanied her to regularly scheduled medical visits and assisted in getting her immediate com- fort and needs met. She was having difficulty walking and needed a wheelchair, but prison bureaucracy was moving very slowly. She got a wheelchair that very day with CCP volunteers advocating for this basic necessity. The patient needed an increase in her weekly allotment of Depends. Once nurse was made aware of her dilemma, she got two more boxes that day and they promised to keep her supplied. We also reviewed her wishes for this last stage of her treatment.

She wanted to remain in her housing unit for the time being, and this was practical although not popular among staff. We supported this wish, and she was able to stay in her unit. We provided emotional support for her anxiety about her future.

She also asked for assistance in expediting her petition for compassionate release which her oncologist had written, but not in correct CDCR format. We accompanied her to a visit with the Chief Medical Officer who would make the final decision. Her release was approved and processed within a few days. These are classic examples of the ability of our Compassionate Companions Program group to sup- port one another and to bring a culture of change in a system that is generally insensitive, steeped in dominance and unaware of individual needs. We look forward to continuing to train new volunteers as needed and keeping this positive program going at CIW.

Veterans find healing through sharing their experiences

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Veterans Healing Veterans members and volunteers celebrate their graduation
Veterans Healing Veterans members and volunteers celebrate their graduation

San Quentin’s Catholic Chapel provided space on June 27 for a small group of Bay Area volunteers to meet with incarcerated veterans who’d just completed a rigorous year-long therapy program designed to help them overcome past traumas, including PTSD.

The program, Veterans Healing Veterans from the Inside Out (VHV), began in 2012 by then-incarcerated Ron Self. Self believes giving military veterans the chance to write about their lives is therapeutic, which is why he says Narrative Therapy opens the door to healing. Self has since paroled but continues to work with VHV.

Several outside volunteers, including Sarah Alexander, spoke to seven of the nine graduates as they received certificates of completion.

“I hope that you can take in your hearts what you’ve given me,” Alexander said. “Our VHV groups are all about connection. You touch people outside in ways that you might not imagine. Each of us has the opportunity to share our stories and be listened to—that’s the reciprocal nature of narrative therapy.

“The theme of today’s stage is the cost of pent-up and repeated traumas with no healthy release.”

Referring to Ron Self, VHV program director Rebecca Haskell said, “This is his heart and this is his life. He is so proud of you. Embracing this program is allowing you to embrace aspects of yourself that you weren’t aware of and didn’t understand. The healing is within you, but VHV allows you to express it.”

Mary Donovan of Cal Vets, who formerly worked with VHV, said, “When we make un-judgmental space for a person tell his story, in their own time, they move to healing. We do this by listening. Listening is the essential act. Listening draws out the story.”

Graduate David Anderson served in the Navy and was honorably discharged twice.

“Probably the most important thing that narration does is allow you to express your emotions and feelings in words,” Anderson said. “There is something very healing in being able to put our experiences, thoughts, emotions and feelings into words.”

Tom Ucko, one of the VHV community volunteers, talked of being nervous the first time coming inside San Quentin and walking around unescorted.

“Sitting in my first group, I was stunned,” Ucko said, after hearing about an extreme- ly violent crime.

Ucko said his judgment faded as he began to learn that the men were no longer the men who committed their crimes—that there was regret and shame exhibited from each story.

“Hearing about childhood trauma was especially challenging to listen to—tears were shed,” Ucko said. “In the safety of the circle, I was able to share my traumas and tell my truths. I felt nourished and loved.”

Carlos Smith talked about how VHV helped him with PTSD, the moral injuries he suffered and how his actions have consequences.

“This program has given me a reason to open my heart and mind and make a positive change deep within my inner beauty,” Smith said. “VHV has shown me that there’s a better solution to solve problems and deal with my de- mons, rather than acting out in anger and violence.”

“Amazing Grace” was sung by Rick Harrell.

“It’s a real privilege to be here with you guys,” Harrell said. “I’m not here to sing to you, but to lead you in singing.”

Haskell acknowledged graduates who’d transferred to other prisons—John Robb and David “Solo” Bennett.

“Everyone in this room is an ambassador for VHV,” Haskell said. “If you feel like this program has impacted you in a meaningful way, scream it as loud as you can.”

The new VHV graduates are: David Anderson, Ian Brown, James Dunbar, Darrell Gautt, Andrew Gazzeny, Jerome Hermosa, Emery Milligan, Carlos Smith, and Paul Stauffer.

A walk on the yard sends youth to camp

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Visitors and inmates making the circle of peace at the Lower Yard
Visitors and inmates making the circle of peace at the Lower Yard

“We march in solidarity, we all are behind bars,” were the lyrics of a rap song that blared through a massive speaker on San Quentin’s Lower Yard. The song captured the voices and themes of SQ Project Avary’s 3rd Annual “March for the Next Generation.”

The June 22 event had inmate Philippe “Kells” Kelly and Eric McCanty of Project Avary rapping those powerful words in front of a host of prisoners and guests.

Cesar of Project Avary peroforming
Cesar of Project Avary peroforming

“Incarceration carries so much grief with it that it lasts throughout generations,” said Zach Whelan, Project Avary’s executive director. “That’s why it’s important to connect with the men here to help break that intergenerational cycle.”

Project Avary is a Bay Area organization dedicated to helping kids of incarcerated parents. This was the third year the organization partnered with San Quentin’s Kid CAT program, an incarcerated youth support group, to hold the event.

Avary visitors at the ARC Building
Avary visitors at the ARC Building

This year the march raised more than $1,500 from the men inside. A matching fund campaign for the walk received $24,000 from out-side donors. The donations will send 24 kids of incarcerated parents to summer camp.

“Everyone knows what happens to a person once they get arrested—they get put behind bars, but no one really knows what happens with the kids,” said Ziri R, 18, of Project Avary. “I was put in a foster home until I was adopted by my father’s sister.

“To this day his absence hurts me. I used to think I didn’t need him—that I’m better off without him. I realize that’s just me trying to pretend I don’t care. The truth is I always cared.”

Consuelo R. giving the crowd words of wisdom
Consuelo R. giving the crowd words of wisdom

Ziri talked about her experiences in elementary school and how her classmates would talk about their dads. She would watch them run and hug their dads picking them up from school.

“I overcame that pain and turned it into motivation,”

Cesar said he has an album coming out titled “Ridin’ Solo.”

Antwan Banks and Eric “Maserati E” Abercrombie, SQ residents, rocked the event with a medley of their original hip hop and rap songs. Their masterful lyrics and musical production gave the yard a true concert vibe.

“There was a force of energy that ignites you after experiencing this event,” said Mary Richards, an administrator for San Francisco Unified School District. “Being responsible for over a thousand students, you are always looking for the next best things to do.

“We have to give our teachers the opportunities and the tools to empower the kids who have an incarcerated parent,” Richards added.

The day ended with all the participants forming a large “healing circle” and in unison reciting, “With every step we walked, it’s a healing for our families. We are thankful for the future things coming.”

said Ziri, who is headed to Sacramento State University. “I hope you are proud of me, Dad; I know Mom is.”

More than 200 participants walked a lap of silence around the rocky dirt track to start the march. The festivities included prayers, speeches, poems and music that bought smiles and tears. Jonathan Rivas, KidCAT participant, shared his story about being a father in prison and his fear of the intergenerational effects for his daughter.

“I had to watch my daughter grow up through a county jail window,” said Rivas. “I feel that I have failed as a father; by coming to prison I lost that privilege. My older brothers, father and uncles have been to jail. I won’t say it’s hereditary, but I do see the cycle.

“I wanted to be different from my dad. He used to beat me. He would be angry and frustrated all the time. He never showed me love or com- passion.

“I just want to be different and teach my daughter how to be at peace. She deserves a great father,” Rivas added.

Consuelo R, spoke about raising children while the father is in prison, giving back and Project Avary.

“I think people need to see this [event],” said Consuelo. “As people of color, some- times we feel entitled not to give anything back. Coming here made me look at prison- ers in a different way. I will give back more.”

Consuelo thanked Project Avary for the program where her children can meet with other kids going through similar issues. Her son has a mentor to share things with, if not with her. Now her daughter has joined the program.

“I didn’t think having her father in jail would affect her as much as my son, but it has,” said Consuelo. “I’ve seen a change since she started the program: she has opened up more to me and she is more joyful.”

Consuelo left the men with these words.

“Everything you do doesn’t only affect you, it affects everyone connected to you. So please, go back and call your son, daughter or family member and tell them how much you love them, because trust me, they are waiting patiently for your 15-minute call.”

Throughout the speeches, various prisoners and guests participated. Fateen Jackson, who expects to parole soon, performed a spoken word piece titled “Revealed.”

“Losing all sense of self and scared to ask for help as if it was death itself.

I came to prison because I didn’t listen to my intuition.

That would’ve put me in a different position.

And a better condition that I currently live in,” Jackson’s poem concluded.

Cesar, an Avary participant, who goes by the rap name Solo, engaged the audience with his song “It’s a Cold Game.” Cesar’s catchy hook had the crowd repeat- ing it.

“There no friends in this cold game (uun),” he rapped.

Cesar said he has an album coming out titled “Ridin’ Solo.”

Antwan Banks and Eric “Maserati E” Abercrombie, SQ residents, rocked the event with a medley of their original hip hop and rap songs. Their masterful lyrics and musical production gave the yard a true concert vibe.

“There was a force of energy that ignites you after experiencing this event,” said Mary Richards, an administrator for San Francisco Unified School District. “Being responsible for over a thousand students, you are always looking for the next best things to do.

“We have to give our teachers the opportunities and the tools to empower the kids who have an incarcerated parent,” Richards added.

The day ended with all the participants forming a large “healing circle” and in unison reciting, “With every step we walked, it’s a healing for our families. We are thankful for the future things coming.”

Significant improvements in prisoner health care expected from streamlining and automating CDCR medical data system

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California Correctional Healthcare Services staff

The prestigious HIMSS Davies Award of Excellence was given to the California Correctional Healthcare Services for developing an automated risk classification system in an effort to improve care and reduce unnecessary hospitalizations, according to a Healthcare IT News article.

In past years, the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation relied on paper as a basis for maintaining and storing inmate patient records—a system that was “unwieldy” and prone to losing papers. As the inmate population topped 125,000, inmates’ paper healthcare records were spread out across the state of California in more than 30 institutions. With new arrivals averaging 600 per week and 11,000 inmate transferring each month, their health records were slow to follow them.

The challenges of this person-dependent paper pro- cess potentially contributed to adverse medical outcomes and eventually resulted in the appointment of a federal receiver to oversee healthcare within the California Correctional system. This inspired and accelerated a shift to paperless documentation.

The creation of an automated risk classification system improved the placement of nearly 20 percent of all patients with a high-risk designation, allowing the department to transfer inmates to prisons located closer to tertiary care centers—which had access to expanded healthcare services.

“Quality patient care is the principle function of any healthcare organization, regardless of the patient population,” said Federal Receiver J. Clark Kelso. “Incorporating information technology solutions to leverage healthcare data is imperative to make informed decisions and improve organizational performance.”

These changes now al- low healthcare staff and the department to quickly communicate inmate patient healthcare factors in order to appropriately place and house at risk inmate patients.

The department as a whole was able to offer appropriate patient care while reducing avoidable hospitalization for “high-risk” patients from 70.9 percent per 1,000 patients in 2015 to 43.5 percent in 2017. This reduction of paper records has saved the department more than $2 million dollars in the first three years of operation.

Prison nurseries: incarcerating newborns with their mothers

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British newborn

Pregnant women face heart-wrenching consequences when they are incarcerated: not only must they give birth under harsh conditions, but then, most likely, they will be forced to surrender their newborn into the hands of others.

Prison nurseries offer some of these women a chance to keep their babies with them, but is that always in the child’s best interest?

“Incarcerating babies may strike many as unconscionable,” child welfare advocate Naomi Schaefer Riley said recently in a National Affairs article. “We must grapple with the ethical implications of the alternatives.

“Such programs raise a number of complex questions. While they tend to produce better outcomes for the incarcerated mothers, it is less clear that they are beneficial for their infant children.”

With over 200,000 women currently incarcerated in this country, not many U.S. prisons have nursery programs available for the estimated 10,000 women who are pregnant and housed in our jails and prisons.

The A&E reality series, “Born Behind Bars” takes viewers inside Indiana’s Wee Ones childcare program—a special housing unit where fe- male prisoners live with their babies after giving birth. Only women with 18 months or less left on their sentences are allowed to participate—that way, the child can go home with them upon their release.

“You’re incarcerated with me and didn’t do anything,” Riley quotes one young moth- er on the show talking to the infant in her arms.

“It makes you feel guilty,” that same young women said. “Pregnancy and prison are the two worst things in life together”—not both bad, but a terrible combination.

The nation’s oldest prison nursery, Bedford Hills in New York, allows pregnant women with lengthy sentences—even life—to give birth, breastfeed and then live with their infant for several months before the child is surrendered to an alternative caregiver. Bedford Hills continues to operate since 1901.

The question remains as to whether the formation of the maternal bond behind prison bars is worth the baby being exposed to such a stressful environment alongside their incarcerated mother. “Because the program is inside a correctional facility, the mothers are involuntarily together and are subjected to an atmosphere of observation, suspicion and discipline,” the Institute on Women and Criminal Justice wrote about New York’s prison nurseries at Bedford Hills and adjacent Taconic Correctional Facility.

Riley, however, noticed in Indiana that “the tightly man- aged environment inside the prison nursery wing is almost certainly preferable to the kind of chaotic and neglectful environment that many of these babies would experience if they went home.”

Nebraska holds the women in its prison nursery unit to a “zero-tolerance” standard, where even the slightest disciplinary infraction can cause a mother to be removed from the program and separated from her child.

“These decisions are often made in less than 24 hours,” said Riley. “Prison guards, who already have extraordinary power over their wards, now also have the power to lower rates of recidivism later on.”

A small study in Nebraska showed that 33% of female in- mates who gave birth behind bars and had their infant taken away later reoffended. Once Nebraska started its prison nursery program, only 9% of the pregnant inmates who were allowed to keep their newborns with them ever re- turned to the system.

“Even if some kind of secure attachment may occur in a prison-nursery environment take away their children at the drop of a hat.

“When you take account of the fact that these women have just given birth and are also dealing with substance- abuse withdrawal, mental illness, and a criminal past, it’s surprising more of these women aren’t kicked out of the program.”

According to Riley’s report, “Women who keep their babies with them during these early years have significantly it is important to remember that no sooner do these babies and mothers bond than something might separate them completely, and for a long period of time,” said Riley.

“This kind of bonding followed by extreme and sudden separation seems to be one of the worst imaginable outcomes for a child.”

But without the rare option of being housed in a prison nursery, pregnant mothers must rely on someone else in their family—or child services—to help raise their young.

“What happens to these children when their primary caretaker is incarcerated?” Riley asks.

She offers Sentencing Project numbers: “about a third (37%) of the children of incarcerated women are living with their fathers. Most of these children are living with grandparents or other relatives, while one of every nine (10.9%) women in prison has a child living in foster care.”

What appears to be the most important factor for any infant child is a reliably consistent attachment to at least one caring adult. Studies indicate that their very first year—and ideally the first three years—are crucial for healthy and normal mental, emotional and physical development.

Alabama prison failed to identify suicidal inmates

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An investigation has been launched into suicides by Alabama prisoners, NPR reported.

“The Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC) has the highest suicide rate in the nation, with most such deaths occurring in solitary confinement and solitary-like units,” according to a case summary in the legal fight.

The lawsuit was filed by the Southern Poverty Law Center and the Alabama Disabilities Advocacy Program.

There have been over 200 suicide attempts requiring hospitalization between the filling of the case and January 2019, NPR reported March 28. Thirty-one were completed suicides.

An investigation was launched by U.S. District Court Judge Myron Thomp- son on whether the state responded adequately to the suicide issue.

“prisoners with serial mental illnesses were routinely housed in solitary confinement and provided with a little to no mental health care”

This is the second investigation in five years for Alabama’s prisons over the constant suicide deaths in its overcrowded and understaffed prison system, the story noted.

The state’s responsibility for the many suicides has been the subject of a legal battle

since June 2014. The lawsuit challenges the conditions and treatment of the mentally ill inmates.

Thompson is hearing testimony in reference to the 15 suicides in 15 months.

The case summary says “prisoners with serial mental illnesses were routinely housed in solitary confinement and provided with little to no mental health care.”

Judge Thompson ruled in June 2017 that Alabama’s prison system violated inmates’ constitutional protections by practicing cruel and unusual punishment.

In his 302-page ruling, Thompson noted that repeated staff absences and lasting inmate overcrowding flooded the system.

Between other complete deficiencies, the judge found that Alabama’s prisons also failed in the following areas:

• Failed to identify prisoners with serious mental health needs and properly classify their needs.

• Failed to set up individualized treatment plans.

• Failed to provide qualified and properly supervised mental health staff.

• Failed to identify and treat inmates at risk of suicide.

• Continuously placed gravely mentally ill inmates in solitude without considering the repercussions of those circumstances.

Thompson concluded, “Simply put, ADOC’s mental health care is horrendously inadequate.”

Prison Commissioner Jefferson Dunn said overcrowding and understaffing retard reform. He added that Alabama will borrow $800 million to build four new prison facilities.

Solitary: Book depicts one man's journey through hell

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Albert Woodfox spent almost 45-years in solitary confinement in Louisiana for a murder he insists he didn’t commit and has written a book detailing the horror of the isolation.

He and one other prisoner were accused of murdering an Angola prison guard. Federal courts threw out two murder convictions, but he decided to plead no contest before a third trial.

“By pleading nolo contendere I wouldn’t be innocent in the eyes of the law,” Woodfox told the Times-Picayune. “But I knew I was innocent.”

The result: he spent 44 years and 10 months in solitary, getting out one hour per day.

“Their desire was to break us—which they failed miserably at—or have us die in a 6×9-foot cell,” Woodfox said. He added that he kept his sanity. He was released in 2016.

He discussed his book, Solitary, at the New Orleans Public Library in March.

Woodfox was serving time for armed robbery at the Louisiana State Penitentiary when he was accused of killing a guard, which resulted in him being placed in a solitary cell. Woodfox was one of three inmates who had been identified as members of the Black Panther Party.

There is no reason to believe that Woodfox or Her- man Wallace killed Angola guard Brent Miller in April 1972, The Times-Picayune reported. The guard’s widow does not even believe it. Nor is there reason to believe that, months later, Robert King killed a fellow inmate, ac- cording to columnist Jarvis DeBerry of The Times-Picayune.

There is reason to believe the Angola 3 were punished for calling out the racism and the brutality bestowed upon them by prison officials and for encouraging inmates to demand better treatment, the newspaper said.

Woodfox quotes a 2008 deposition where Warden Burl Cain said that even if Woodfox had not killed Miller, “I would still keep him in CCR. I still know that he is still trying to practice Black Pantherism, and I still would not want him walking around my prison because he would organize the young new inmates.”

In 2001, King was released from prison. Wallace’s conviction was tossed out in 2013; he was released from prison the day before he died of liver cancer.

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