The Lumberjack



Students Serving The Cal Poly Humboldt Campus and Community Since 1929

Tag: prison

  • What It’s Like Inside Pelican Bay Amid the Coronavirus Pandemic

    What It’s Like Inside Pelican Bay Amid the Coronavirus Pandemic

    A conversation with a College of the Redwoods student at Pelican Bay State Prison

    We now have more than 1.5 million people worldwide infected with COVID-19 and over 90,000 deaths. The United States has surpassed every other country in cases with just over 450,000. People are being told to socially distance themselves with six feet of space between others and isolate inside. But what about the millions who are incarcerated that don’t have that option? 

    Kunlyna Tauch is housed at Pelican Bay State Prison and is a student in the College of the Redwoods Pelican Bay Scholars Program at Pelican Bay State Prison. He is slated to graduate with his associate degree for transfer this summer. Tauch is also a student and contributor in Paul Critz’s audio journalism class, which produces Pelican Bay’s podcast “Pelican Bay: UNLOCKED.” Tauch has been a spokesperson of sorts for the recent programming at Pelican Bay and an advocate of the changes being made inside the supermax prison.

    Cases of the coronavirus have risen just over 1,300 throughout 100 federal prisons, thousands of jails and 1,700 state-run facilities nationwide. The Federal Bureau of Prisons says 138 inmates and 59 employees have tested positive and at least seven inmates have died, bringing the total to at least 32 COVID-19-related deaths inside the nation’s prisons and jails. 

    On March 31, California state prison officials announced they would be releasing 3,500 incarcerated individuals early to help free space in cramped prisons due to a possible coronavirus outbreak. Governor Gavin Newsom announced a halt in the transfer and intake of incarcerated individuals and youths into California’s 35 state prisons.

    According to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation website, there are, as of April 9, 12 incarcerated persons at California Prison, Los Angeles County, 19 incarcerated persons at California Institution for Men in Chino, one incarcerated person at North Kern State Prison in Delano and one incarcerated person at Substance Abuse Training Facility in Corcoran who have tested positive for COVID-19. Seventy-one CDCR or California Correctional Health Care Services employees have tested positive for COVID-19 in 21 incarcerated facilities, and hundreds have called in sick for work.

    In the past five years there have been more programs in Pelican Bay than ever before and the culture inside is changing. After a lawsuit was awarded to the incarcerated individuals participating in the 2011 and 2013 hunger strikes and their advocates, one of the two solitary housing units was shut down and terms of isolation were limited to five years. This caused the prison to mitigate the effects of solitary confinement with programs like education and therapy. I spoke with Tauch on what it’s like in Pelican Bay State Prison as a college student amid the changes COVID-19 has brought to the infamous prison.

    Kunlyna Tauch looking upward in June of 2019. Tauch is slated to earn his associate degree for transfer through College of the Redwoods’ Pelican Bay Scholars program this semester. | Photo by T. William Wallin

    Tony Wallin: What’s it like in Pelican Bay State Prison right now and what are your concerns?

    Kunlya Tauch: First of all, CDCR stopped all visitation and there are no programs. So we’re doing like old prison time, right. Which is us in prison going to yard and trying to occupy ourselves with whatever we have, which is not that much. My concern is that people on the streets are so socially distant from each other they become callous of each other and become more segregated and more disconnected. But from what I am seeing on TV is a lot of good, which is making me happy. The little acts of kindness and videos of people on the street coming out, I love it. There’s actually a little silver lining out of this.

    TW: Yeah. There’s a lot of opportunity for positivity through all of this.

    KT: It’s hard to pass on those opportunities because it’s so in-your-face. 

    TW: What’s it like in there with programs shut down? What are you doing to keep busy?

    KT: College of the Redwoods has been the only program that is really working on shifting their whole business model to make it work for us. They are still running classes through correspondence and we’re getting hella work like every Friday. Our teachers are saying, ‘This is what we expect. Your next essay is due this date, send it in the mail,’ but because I have five classes I have enough work to sustain me, plus I have hella books I’ve got to get through. I am pretty occupied but it’s pretty restless in here, you know? People are constantly checking on their family, making sure they are well. They aren’t reading, they aren’t programming, they aren’t going anywhere, so their day consists of the phone and the yard. The yard schedule in itself [has changed], we aren’t seeing the regular people we used to see. They’re making it real limited, they’re not giving the day room. They literally made some new rule where only five cells in the day room at a time, which prohibits ourselves from doing what we want to do. It’s kinda stressful. It feels like we are taking a lot of steps back as far as prison goes. 

    TW: CDCR said they were going to send out more cleaning supplies to all prisons and make sure every prison has what they need. Are you seeing that?

    KT: That’s never been a problem. The cleanliness of the place isn’t a problem. Right now I have a personal friend who had some symptoms, they didn’t even test him and they just took him to quarantine and is on two weeks lockdown with no mail, no phone, no nothing. Just to see if he has it or not.

    TW: Where do they have the quarantine right now? What do they have blocked off?

    KT: They have one on A yard and one on B yard and it’s one section of one building and they’re basically in the SHU [secure housing unit]. They’re like kicking off drugs by themselves. That’s their treatment and I guess the nurses are going over, but I don’t know. I assume nurses are checking on them professionally. There’s too much of a shortage of testing, but one thing about medical is they are a separate entity than CDCR, so CDCR can’t dictate what they do.

    TW: Interesting. They operate differently? The warden doesn’t have a say on the medical side of things? 

    KT: No, medical community operates the medical community. All records are sealed and confidential. The prison has to accommodate that or else there’s a big lawsuit. I think CDCR concedes medical and there’s an agreement [between them]. According to the American government this is it and [CDCR] is only the California government, same with religion and same thing with tech. For some reason the tech, IT, here is their own entity and they suck. It takes like a month to transfer music onto our laptop [for the podcast]. It’s been stagnant. I’ve been feeling lethargic. I feel like they caged me back up and I’m really back in prison again. Pelican Bay was really doing good with their programs and everything running everyday and now it feels like this modified program where it feels like we’re just on lockdown. I feel like a lot of our minds aren’t being stimulated because a lot of us aren’t in those programs we are forced into or choose to be in.

    TW: Right. It feels like pre-2014?

    KT: Yes. Real shit. It feels like before and it feels like out of mind will cause more trouble. I am waiting for the ball to drop. I am waiting for something to happen. I’m almost mad that personally we’re on lockdown, but the whole fucking world is on lockdown and I can’t make more moves happen.

    TW: Yeah, the irony in all of this is everything is locked down globally. How is your morale and the overall morale in the prison? Are there still positive interactions?

    KT: I feel like we’re losing that. I feel like the tank is draining every single day. Guys that were motivated are losing that motivation. I see my college peers going like, ‘I don’t even feel like doing the work.’ But you don’t have that motivation no more because you’re not in front of the teacher anymore, you’re not engaging. You have questions but you can’t get an answer. I have a bleeding heart for my community in here, but it’s hard for me to help them because I have five courses and I have to study. We’re getting hella shit to read and it’s like, ‘I don’t have the time to worry about you guys because I have to get this out of the way first.’ Before all of this coronavirus I was approved to transfer to Lancaster [California State Prison, Los Angeles County]. That’s a level three. That was a big decision I had to make because that means I have to detach myself from this place I grew roots in. The process of this whole coronavirus—I’m back worrying about college and I can’t really be the catalyst to get my guys rallied up to do their work because I have to just worry about my work. So, I’ve been feeling like the morale is ‘Let’s see what happens while we are in this state of limbo,’ which is worse than staying stagnant because we’re losing the momentum, you know? We work on momentum on the programs that are on a level four yard. Without that momentum it’s like, ‘I’ll just watch Jerry Springer all day.”

    TW: It’s gotta be rough going from so many programs for the first time at Pelican Bay and then, in an instant, they’re gone. For those of you that are students at College of the Redwoods, can you study together?

    KT: Everything in person is shut down but we can do our own personal study groups, but we are divided. So, we only see our own dudes in our own yard and maybe another building and they’re across the fence so we can’t even have a study group out there. Also the COs [correctional officers] are really cracking down on what stuff we can bring out and they’re asking us, ‘Why were you bringing books and stuff out to the yard since programs are shut down?’ So we can’t even have that. So technically no, we can’t have a study group. We can have an impromptu one if there’s a cool CO that says it’s cool, we can sit out there.

  • Letters from Pelican Bay

    Letters from Pelican Bay

    When I first got interested in the criminal justice system, I began following community leaders throughout the nation who were involved in the reform movement. One person I began following was Glenn E. Martin, founder and president of JustLeadershipUSA and a formerly incarcerated individual. JustLeadershipUSA is an organization committed to cutting the U.S. correctional population in half by 2030. Their mission is to empower the people most affected by incarceration to drive policy reform. One of their biggest campaigns was #closeRikers, which was a battle to close Rikers Island, New York City’s main jail complex. It is a facility notoriously known for its brutal treatment and violation of human rights. As Kerry Kennedy, president of Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights, stated, “Rikers Island is a whirlpool of poverty, incarceration, and injustice.”

    Throughout Rikers Island history, there have been many cases and controversies regarding conditions and treatment. One case involved Kalief Browder who was arrested for stealing a backpack. Since he was underage during his arrest he was placed in solitary confinement for his ‘protection.’ After serving 3 years, he was released without charge, but it was clear his incarceration had took a toll on his overall well being. He failed his first suicide attempt shortly after his release. Unfortunately, after a second attempt he ended his life.

    While his case is not reflective of all cases, it does serve as an example of the faults at Rikers Island and in our criminal justice system as a whole.

    After years of advocating, organizing, and protesting JustLeadershipUSA celebrated a victory this past Friday, March 21, when New York City’s mayor Bill de Blasio vowed to close the facility.

    “It will take many years. It will take many tough decisions along the way, but it will happen,” de Blasio said at a City Hall press conference.

    While no specifics were given, Mayor de Blasio did say it would take roughly 10 years to close the detention facility and it would require reducing the jail population.

    So why does something that happened across the country matter to us?

    Personally, it serves as inspiration and on a larger scale it provides a model for us to follow. California currently has 123 county jails which are used to house inmates awaiting trial or those who are sentenced to one year or less. Our jails like many across the nation are overcrowded with mentally ill inmates or people awaiting trial simply because they cannot afford bail or solid legal representation. Over 12 million people funnel through our jails annually and if California is rethinking prisons, it must rethink jails.

    Right now, the goal of majority of criminal justice reform advocates along with JustLeadershipUSA is to cut the incarcerated population in half by 2030. That is going to take some serious coalition building and community organizing which the citizens of New York engaged in. Reducing incarceration in jails and prisons requires addressing homelessness, education, public benefits, employment, and the stigmatization of formerly incarcerated individuals. If New York can successfully close down its largest jail, then California can begin to close down its local jails.

  • Letters from Pelican Bay

    Letters from Pelican Bay

    by | Tania Mejia

    Last week, the Sociology Department hosted the Criminal Justice Dialogue, which was a week full of events covering issues related to incarceration. This years topics included the impacts of incarceration on the family, employment and housing barriers for those with a criminal background, the importance of education, juvenile and reentry stories, and it ended with a community roundtable discussion. I had the privilege of attending each discussion, and I must say, what a week! There was a lot to learn from each presentation, but I was most moved when discussing education on the inside and outside.

    Kintay Johnson, assistant director of Extended Opportunity Programs and Services at College of the Redwoods, was one of the speakers at the event, and to say the man is inspiring is an understatement. Johnson is a charismatic, kind hearted and devoted member to his community. Five nights a week he visits Humboldt County Jail where he teaches college prep courses and plants or waters the seed of higher education in inmates’ minds.

    Prison University Project also joined the discussion and shared information about their mission, goals, programs and the impact they have had. Their mission is to provide college preparatory courses and higher education programs to people incarcerated at San Quentin State Prison. They have successfully created a network of teachers and volunteers who offer over 300 students 20 courses each semester in the humanities, social sciences, math, and science, as well as intensive college preparatory courses in math and English.

    In their presentations and in thinking about my prison pen pals I could not help but come back to the notion that knowledge is power, and that sharing knowledge is powerful. I also could not help but think of how taken for granted our college experience and resources are. The students who skip classes for unimportant reasons,or in professor terms ‘unexcused absences’, leave during class breaks, sit in their seat browsing the internet, scrolling through their phones, and completely disengaged from what is being presented to them come to mind. Personally, I do not care and trust me I have been guilty myself. After all, we are all choosing how to maximize our time while at this institution, but when I think about people in an institution that cages and locks them up with little access to education, that is when I care.

    I talk and write to inmates who would love the opportunity to sit in a classroom setting, exchanging ideas, and sharing their own. I will never forget something one of my pen pals once shared which was along the lines of I grew up knowing where Pelican Bay State Prison was, but not Humboldt State University. Moving forward we must end mass incarceration and begin a mass education movement. A movement that ends the school to prison pipeline and creates a prison to school pipeline.

    The need is there. Compared to other states California has one of the highest recidivism rates, and we know prison education reduces recidivism. A study funded by the Department of Justice found that people behind bars who participate in educational or vocational training are 43 percent less likely to return to prison once released. Yet, a report by the Legislative Analyst’s Office estimates it costs an average of about $71,000 per year to incarcerate an inmate in prison with, but only $2,437 of that amount goes to academic education, cognitive behavioral therapy, and vocational training!

    What is most alarming is that compared to prison inmate costs, California is only spending roughly $8,000 to $11,000 per student pupil. I would argue education should be free, but until then we must help those who face many more barriers than those in the ‘free world’ do. I encourage everybody to take their education and skills beyond the outside to the inside, and look to organizations like the Prison Education Project, Prison University Project, Teach in Prison, and more. If there are no existing organizations in your area contact the facilities community resource manager or lieutenant and propose a class or program. If education lowers recidivism, then we need to educate and empower those behind bars to ensure they do not return, cost taxpayers money, and in the future we can allocate those funds towards higher education.

  • Letters from Pelican Bay

    Letters from Pelican Bay

    By| Tania Mejia

    In August of 2016, the Department of Justice [DOJ] made an announcement claiming it would begin phasing out the use of private prisons. I clearly remember coming back to school and a number of people sharing their excitement and asking my personal thoughts on it.

    I would start off by saying yeah it was a great thing, but our number of private prisons was miniscule to the total amount of state and federal prisons in our nation. So while it seemed like a great accomplishment, federal private prisons only made up about 8% of our incarcerated population and in the end of December 2015 only housed 22,660 inmates according to an inspector general report. Also, this did not include state private prisons, which similar to our federal government are in the low percentages. I personally thought it would be a greater accomplishment had it been in regards to immigration detention centers, considering about two-thirds of them are privately owned. This is where it is worth mentioning, simply because it is called “detention center” does not mean it is not a prison. 

    Following the DOJ statement, stocks for private corporations such as Corrections Corporation of America, now Core Civic, and GEO Group, formerly Wackenhut,  plummeted. It seemed those who prioritize profits over people were concerned about the future of their investment. But this was not a clear win, and with such companies donating to Trump’s campaign it was expected that the fight was not over. Most recently, the Trump administration announced it will not uphold former Former Deputy Attorney General Sally Q. Yates’ memo and that we will continue and increase our use of private prisons.

    The reason this is so concerning starts with looking at the models in which companies as CCA and GEO operate in. To ensure maximum capacity and profits, contracts are introduced where states are required to keep a certain percentage of beds full.  What are the problems with private prisons? Culture of violence, poor unsanitary conditions, health care, food, operational conditions, sexual abuse, If crime rates have been down in the past decade, how do we account for such usage of these facilities?

    Some contracts require 90 to 100% occupancy, which means if states don’t provide those numbers, they have to pay these companies for the unused beds. If not, increase the criminalization of everyday life. 

    Private prisons did not exist before the early 1980s when U.S. states and the federal government needed a solution to overcrowding in public prisons. But between 1990-2009 the number of people in private prisons increased by a massive 1600 percent. The business model of these companies essentially depends on locking up more and more people up.

    In its 2010 annual report to shareholders, CCA stated, “The demand of our facilities and services could be adversely affected by the relaxation of law enforcement efforts, leniency in conviction or parole standards and sentencing practices or through the decriminalization of certain activities that are currently proscribed by our criminal laws.” Because of these concerns, private companies spend a lot of money lobbying for policies which will benefit their pockets.

    How can we stop the use of private prisons? Unfortunately, we now have a president who is going to make any effort nearly impossible. But we know private prisons spend a lot of money on lobbying politicians there is hope. They all support governors, state legislators, and judges, which we all have a say in. This requires digging into local and state politics.

    I would encourage everybody to read “My Four Months as a Private Prison Guard” by Shane Bauer for Mother Jones. We have vulnerable populations in these facilities including juvenile and immigrant detainees. The problem spreads beyond America into countries like Africa, Australia, and more.  Our nation’s prison system is a failure on its own. Prioritizing profits over people does not serve community, families, and society, but only those who are invested.

    Any Orange is the New Black fans will be somewhat familiar with the problems that follow when public institutions turn to for profit companies. Fun fact, Management Correction Corporation (MCC) piggybacks off the real private prison company Management Training Corporation (MTC).

  • Letters from Pelican Bay

    Letters from Pelican Bay

    By| Tania Mejia

    As a senior currently applying for graduate school, I have been putting a lot of thought into the future and what is to come. I have spent the past four years studying communication and social advocacy, with an emphasis on the prison industrial complex. But even then I am unsure whether I want to work within the system or go outside the system to bring about change. Beyond that, I keep wondering what will happen to the future of our carceral state and the countless people behind bars.

    According to a 2016 Prison Policy Initiative report, “the American criminal justice system holds more than 2.3 million people in 1,719 state prisons, 102 federal prisons, 942 juvenile correctional facilities, 3,283 local jails, and 79 Indian Country jails as well as in military prisons, immigration detention facilities, civil commitment centers, and prisons in the U.S. territories.” It’s evident punishment has infiltrated every aspect of society while impacting individuals, communities, and society. But as Foucault pointed out in Power/Knowledge, “In 1820 it was already understood that the prisons, far from transforming criminals into citizens, serve only to manufacture new criminals and drive existing criminals even deeper into criminality.”

    Prisons as we know them were originally established as a more humane method of punishment, but since prisons have become a site of struggle where society’s already marginalized, oppressed, and vulnerable populations end up. With 2.3 million people behind bars and clear racial and ethnic disparities, we need to be asking if incarceration actually produces safety.

    Prisons disconnect and isolate individuals from their families, communities, and society. The impacts of such disconnection transcend past the incarcerated individual to the 1.7 million children who have at least one incarcerated parent. Having a parent behind bars can have significant impacts on children from mental health to changes in social behavior, which in turn can affect educational outcomes and lead to juvenile delinquency creating a cycle of incarceration. Further, children may feel stigma from their circumstances while experiencing financial hardships as a result of lost income and support.

    What is most problematic about prisons is that we have come to believe that one institution can solve some of society’s most pressing issues from poverty, homelessness, mental illness, and drug addiction. The truth is prisons cannot address everything from drug possession to serial murder, which means collectively as communities we will have to come together to figure out what works and how to find alternatives to incarceration.

    Another problem with prisons is that they do not heal or address the needs of victims and perpetrators. Long prison sentences are not the solution, especially when we know prisons provide little to no rehabilitation or treatment. Prisons do not stop violence and it is reflected in the number of people sexually assaulted and raped, as well as suicide rates behind bars. Incarceration exposes people exactly to the things that increase the likelihood that they will harm others.

    As I have previously written about, prisons further stigmatize and disenfranchise people through felon labels making reentry a punishment of its own. Unfortunately, our prison system has built a reputation of failing people, doing little correcting (whatever that means) and rehabilitating. If incarceration actually produced safety, we would have the safest country in the world and that’s not what we have as shown in our crime and recidivism rates.

    This goes without addressing the costs behind prisons, private contracts, white collar crime, how prisons create a black market, lack of educational, mindful, and vocational programs, or racial inequalities within the criminal justice system. So, if not prisons then what? What about the murderers and rapists as I am always asked when proposing prison abolition? Well, let’s remember they only make up a small percentage of our incarcerated population, and, regardless, most will return to society.

    The #cut50 movement is a national bipartisan initiative to safely and smartly cut our incarcerated population by 50 percent over the next 10 years. There are many alternatives to imprisonment from drug courts, mental courts, halfway houses, community service, treatment, public housing, and so on. Ultimately, we need radical changes in the status quo. Similarly, to Baz Dreisinger, author of Incarceration Nations: A Journey to Justice in Prisons Around the World. 

    “I envision a system that is grounded in community courts, reparative systems, truth and reconciliation commissions, and ‘facilities,’ insofar as absolutely necessary, which is always involving a really small number of people.”

  • Letters from Pelican Bay

    Letters from Pelican Bay

    By| Tania Mejia

    By now, most of us know there are 2.3 million people behind bars, and that the U.S. makes up 5% of the world’s population while housing 25% of the world’s prison population. Unlike other political topics, there seems to be bipartisan agreement that our criminal justice system is an urgent need of reform. Unfortunately, most of these cries for change are happening as a result of the $80 billion price tag, instead about the peoples lives who have been and are being impacted by this system. 

    Our society seems to be unable to forgive people and it manifests in the way we treat people behind bars and upon their release. In his, “Re-humanizing Inmates” TEDx talk, inmate, Anthony Wyatt states, “As prisoners, we’re automatically presumed to be less than civilized, and so less than equal. Less than equal, and so less than worthy. A segment of the population, undeserving of your respect, and basic human rights cause we’re considered less than human. I know it sounds extreme, but how else can we account for society’s clear lack of concern for the incarcerated and the formerly incarcerated lives?”

    I have repeatedly came to the same conclusion as I read letters by my prison pen pals, walkthrough prisons, and talk to formerly incarcerated people. It is hard not to wonder how did we get here at the approval of so many people. Of course, politicians “tough on crime” rhetoric, media portrayals, and people’s fears were a driving force, but more than that, I think it became an us vs. them. It is no secret that our criminal justice system disproportionately locks up people of color and people who are poor, yet many of us keep the system out of sight, out of mind while falling into the false narrative of who these men and womyn are. I think society as a whole has negatively dehumanized and desensitized our incarcerated brothers and sisters that many people simply do not care about their conditions, rights, and treatment behind bars. 

    As mass incarceration begins to scale down, which it will, we have begin a re-humanization process of inmates and prisoners. It is simply not enough to release people behind bars back into society when being labeled a felon puts you in a category, which Michelle Alexander, author of The New Jim Crow, identifies as a racial caste system equivalent to slavery and Jim Crow. Being labeled a felon carries consequences with it, which make reentry into society a punishment of its own. People with a criminal record can’t receive financial aid, can’t apply for food stamps and welfare, can’t apply for business loans, can’t earn some professional licenses/permits, can’t apply for public housing, can’t own guns, can’t vote, can’t sit on a jury, can’t apply for some jobs, and if, they are able to they face the “Have you been convicted of a felony?” question on job applications. 

    So how do we begin this rehumanization process? We have to begin by challenging our own beliefs and attitudes. Ask yourself, what images come to mind when you hear the words criminal, felon, inmate, prisoner, or convict? We have to stop making prison jokes such as “don’t drop the soap,” which as Anthony points out in his TEDx talk, “since when is the rape or assault of any fellow human being funny?” We have to stop supporting TV programs who profit from the violence in jails and prisons. We have to stop calling people behind bars by the labels given to them by the oppressor (e.g. inmate, prisoner, felon, convict, criminal). We have to bridge gaps between the inside and outside world. 

    Most importantly, we have to support them. We know 90-95% of people behind bars are someday returning to society. It’s time to let go of assumptions, prejudices, and stereotypes. 

    Poem by Marcus Armstrong