Last
Thursday, July 30th, I gave testimony before the House Committee on
County Affairs regarding the issues arising from Sandra Bland’s death in a
small county jail in East Texas. The
tragedy raises so many concerns, that it’s impossible to frame solutions within
one policy. The series of mistakes span
the distance from racial profiling to dismal treatment inside county
jails. To emphasize one aspect over
another deprives Sandra and her family of justice.
I showed up to offer six strategies for reform. My colleagues and I had worked 14 hours per
day leading up to the hearing, studying racial profiling data, de-escalation
techniques, and Supreme Court decisions urging states to stop arresting people
for minor infractions. We also
researched pre-booking diversion programs, mental health assessments, and
county jail oversight. We prepared our
written testimony, and I drew the short straw to testify at the actual
hearing.
The hearing room was crowded with news media. I had to edge past camera crews to make my
way to a seat near the front. More
importantly, the room was crowded with people who had ventured across the state
to give witness to generations of police encounters that have divided
communities into “us” versus “them.” I
could hear the women in the row behind me groan with impatience when the first
panel spent too long discussing mental health assessments and jail
standards.
To them, the issues were clear – Sandra Bland dared to assert her rights, and she was treated with brutality as a result. She shouldn’t have been in jail at all, and now she’s dead.
I realized that we were grappling with issues as a
community, and that I couldn’t go to the microphone as merely a policy
analyst. The issues were too
personal. I remembered my own treatment
inside county jail, and I shared it with the Members. I admitted that my descent into addiction and
criminality included several stops at psychiatric hospitals along the way,
including two Intensive Care Units after I had attempted suicide. Out of desperation for drugs, I had committed
four counts of robbery with a highlight marker wrapped in a shirt. When I was arrested and taken to county jail,
I told the truth about my mental health history.
What happened to me because I told the truth was nothing
short of torture. They sat me in a metal
chair and strapped my head, arms, and feet to immobilize me for hours. Later, they stripped me naked and put me in an icy cold padded room for the night. They kept me in
isolation for days. Someone in the next cell had combined alcohol with Xanax,
and spent the night screaming at imaginary attackers. It was a horrific experience.
I recounted my experience to the Legislators to help them see
the inhumane treatment people experience inside county jails. It didn’t change the fact that Sandra should
never have had to step foot inside of a jail.
I tried to relate the issues to mass incarceration, the need for bail reform,
and pre-booking diversion, but it was my personal story that seemed to have the
most impact. When I sat down, one of the
women seated in the row behind me put her hand on my shoulder and leaned
forward to say something in my ear:
“I want you to know how much good you’ve done for my people today.”
The issue is about inhumanity at every level of the criminal
justice system from law enforcement to corrections. Racial minorities are treated with suspicion
and contempt by law enforcement. We
arrest people for minor infractions, and allow counties to complain about jail costs
and overcrowding. We treat drug
addiction as a crime instead of a disease, investing untold sums into the
criminal justice system that could have been used for treatment. We allow the bail industry to dominate the
system for their own profit, holding low income people in jail for months,
often for crimes they didn’t commit, simply because they can’t afford to post
bail. We do this despite the fact that
people are just as likely to show up for trial on a personal recognizance bond
as they are when they post bail. We deprive people with mental illness
continuity of care while they are incarcerated, and subject them to torture.
And then we deprive children and families the right to a face-to-face
visit with loved ones, because jails have learned to cut costs and make a
profit on video-only visitation.
Yes, there are so many issues involved that it’s difficult
to name just one reform. It starts with
humanity. Police must have an actual reason
to stop someone. Suspicion is not
enough. Nearly 71% of the people whom
police perceive as “suspicious” are racial minorities. Anytime a police officer uses force outside
of the context of defense of self or others is a failure of good policing, and
police departments must be held accountable when it happens. We have to recognize that the criminal
justice system is not equipped to deal with problems of addiction and mental
illness, and we must divert people to community organizations more frequently. Finally, we must acknowledge that most of the
people who enter the criminal justice system will rejoin our community.
When we allow mistreatment of our once and future neighbors by police and jailers, we all must be held accountable.
For more information about the six strategies for reform in the wake of Sandra Bland's death, check out our written testimony on the Texas Criminal Justice Coalition's website:
http://publicpolicycenter.texascjc.org/download/county-affairs-law-enforcement-and-jail-standards-testimony