I just finished reading a book called “How to Live: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (while they are still on this earth) by Henry Alford; long have I been a sucker for anecdotal wisdom from those who have been on this planet decades longer than myself. I don’t think there was one person whom the journalist/author interviewed that professed to having been wise since birth, giving the impression (and not a very unique one at that) that wisdom comes with age and presumably experiences. While I was reading this book, I thought of a story a friend had told me recently.This friend is an MSW student at one of the many other social works in NYC and through her field placement, she often comes across individuals who are involved in the criminal justice system. One of the clients she met with recently was just 16 when he was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Now the young man is 26 and, for all intents and purposes, just beginning his life. I don’t know about all of you, but I believe I can say with some confidence that I was considerably more wise at 26 than I was 16. The experiences I garnered in those 10 years have provided invaluable lessons that still influence the decisions I make now, at 29. For example at 17, I learned that I do not look good as a redhead. At 29, my hair remains its natural color, brown. At 18, I learned that I can survive out from under my parent’s roof. At 22, that lesson served me as I hopped into the passenger seat of a friend’s car and moved across the country to California. It played a role as well in my decision, 3.5 years later, to leave California and head here to New York City. Lessons like these (and a boatload of others) come over time when one has the freedom to make their own decisions, for better or worse. These are not things my friend’s client could learn inside a jail cell. Sure, there are things he learned that I (hopefully) will never have to learn, those being hard lessons learned about surviving in prison, no doubt;. but those regular little lessons, the silly experiences that cause personal growth, my friend’s client was stripped of those when the judge ordered he be locked in prison for the next 10 years of his young life.

There is a growing debate in this country about the nature of the juvenile justice system. One that we should certainly have an eye on. In the last five years, the Supreme Court of the United States has issued two important decisions on this matter. The first came in the matter of Graham v. Florida  in 2010. This ruling established that juveniles could not be given life sentence for crimes not involving a homicide. The New York Times published  this article  discussing a loophole defense invoked by some states, exorbitantly long sentences like 70 or 90 years are not technically “life sentences.” Common sense would dictate that they are. The second ruling stemmed from Miller v. Alabama in 2012. This decision dictated that juveniles who committed homicide could not automatically be assigned life sentences. The Juvenile Law Center reports that 2,600 inmates nationwide are serving life sentence for crimes committed as a juvenile.

At the heart of these Supreme Court decisions is the idea that youthful offenders should be given a ““meaningful opportunity for release based on demonstrated maturity and rehabilitation.” I interpret that (and I’m no Supreme Court Justice) as the chance to grow and improve with age. If I was still being punished for the rash decisions I made in my youth, I would still have red hair. I know its not as simple as that, and certainly, there are offenses that a youth can commit that demand severe punishment. But shouldn’t there be a chance for a future? In New York City, we have the Division of Youth and Family Justice whose goal is to work with families and youth to break patterns of recidivism and put youth offenders on the path to successful adulthood. This is the sort of program my friend’s client probably would have benefited from instead of a jail sentence. Just today, I read  this article about “Girl’s Court” in Alameda County, California. Their objective is much the same, except the focus is exclusively on young female offenders. I’m of the opinion, though, that the wonderful work that is being done in these juvenile justice courts and detention centers should have begun earlier in the office of a social worker; someone who can see the systemic and individual barriers facing these offenders (prior to them becoming such) and help identify the strengths they can use to overcome them to achieve positive outcomes. I think this reform and debate is brilliant but its reactive and some may argue – too little, too late. How about us, social workers, take a different approach and start at the other end, doing some preventative work? Maybe then we could meet in the middle at a just juvenile justice system …. what do you think?

In the Widener Law Review, Daniel CW Lang explores his vision for a closing the justice gap for Americans, including increasing funding and utilizing nonlawyer advocates. Read here. 

It’s graduation time around these parts. I’m in the extended MSW program so its extra bittersweet for me. Those that I started out here with two years ago are moving on, past the classes and the field placements and I am not…. one more year, just one more. I’m experiencing a sort of odd mixture of jealousy and relief. More school, ick. More time to figure out what is it that I want to do with myself, thank goodness.

With graduation and the end of the academic year comes, inevitably, the end of this blog and my parting note. A while ago, I came across this quote from George Saunders (I swear its not from the graduation speech at Syracuse that takes over the internet around this time of year).  

“Don’t be afraid to be confused.

Try to remain permanently confused.

Anything is possible.

Stay open, forever,

so open that it hurts, and

then open up some more, until the day you die…”

The line, while intended (if memory serves me correctly) to inspire young writers, seems to me really pertinent to social work, to what I’ve been talking about here, to what my fellow social media team members have been writing about on their blogs. Social work is confusing. I will never understand why some of the things that have happened to the clients I’ve worked with have happened.  I hope there never comes a time when it doesn’t boggle my mind how systems designed to help the most vulnerable groups  amongst us can fail them so entirely and unapologetically. I may never feel 100% certain that my work with my clients is enough, that its making a difference, that its what they need.  From this confusion, though, is the opportunity for fresh ideas, new solutions, for change to spring. Anything is possible.    So my friends as you graduate and enter the field, try to stay open to what that confusion can bring. It will hurt, absolutely. It will be incredibly frustrating, incredibly soul crushing. Being open to our clients can mean allowing in a lot of pain but don’t close yourself off. When you feel yourself getting burnt out, open up some more. Open up some more because thats how the real work gets done. We are blessed with the opportunity to be a catalyst for change, for real impactful change, in our client’s lives, in their families, their communities and their country. Let’s see what we can do with it…. no pressure.

Through an elective course I’m taking this semester, I’ve had the opportunity to hear a number of  guest lectures by social workers and other professionals working within the court system. Though their roles in the court and clientele varied, I noted a few common trends in their work experiences that I thought I might pass along to y’all, in case anyone was thinking about getting into the field.

• Working in a court is very fast-paced job.  You are likely to see many clients in a day and for short periods of time.

• Being good at completing quick and thorough assessments is a must. Sharpen up on those biopsychosocial skills.

• Be prepared to go to bat for your client. Many of the speakers described being strong advocates for  their clients in the face of a, sometimes, unsympathetic court. If they believed their client would benefit substantially from, say, a supervised release or a certain treatment program,  they had to be able to make their client’s case for such to the defense attorney, to the DA, sometimes even to the judge.

• Along the same vein, many of the speakers described how difficult it can be to admit to the court when their client is not meeting their mandated responsibilities. If their client isn’t attending their treatment program, for example, they have to be honest and report that to the judge knowing that there may be consequences for their client. Its hard to tattle (for lack of a better term) on a client, especially if the social worker may have grown to like them but, ultimately, it may lead to better outcomes for their client. It also retains a social worker’s professional credibility in front of the court. Losing your credibility can be harmful for one’s other clients as well as the program one works for.

• One former public defender who spoke to us noted the importance of a social worker upholding their own professional ethics in the court environment. We aren’t lawyers, we don’t need to act like one.

I got the impression for our speakers that working in a criminal justice setting is an incredibly challenging, yet rewarding endeavor. A lot like most social work positions, huh? I guess, in the end, the lesson I took away from all our speakers is just how valuable an ally a social worker can be for an individual who is court involved. If that’s a role you might be interested in taking, you can find job listings, here and here.

Something happened the other morning aboard the F train that was pretty unusual. As the doors began to close on the Delancy/Essex street station, the conductor came over the loudspeaker, which of course, is not unusual in and of itself but  it was what she said that gave my fellow passengers and I pause  “This is a Coney Island Bound F Train, Sit back and enjoy your ride.”  …. Sit back and enjoy the ride? Wait, did I hear her correctly,  aren’t we supposed to stand clear of the closing doors?  The rest of the individuals in my car seemed just as amused by this break from convention as I. We looked around made eye contact (GASP), smiled and all collectively chuckled before returning to looking down, playing candy crush, reading a book, ya know, business as usual. A group of strangers having a laugh together; its the sort of thing that happens here in New York City as you go about your daily life in such close proximity to so many others. You socialize quite by accident on occasion and think nothing of it. Only this time, I did take a moment to think something of it. What I thought of, in particular, was what it would be like to not be able to socialize, even in such a small way. I thought about what it might be like to sit in a cell about the size of a parking space alone without any stimuli for 23 hours a day for months at a time. Now, I’m not usually prone to imagining myself in solitary confinement (although truth be told I probably think about it more than most), it just so happens that on this occasion solitary confinement was on my mind for good cause. New York State reached an agreement this month in a lawsuit filed by the New York Civil Liberties Union (NYCLU), Peoples v. Fisher. The suit  alleged that the State’s Department of Correction and Community Supervision’s (DCCS) “use and length of confinement sanctions and conditions in DCCS’ “Special Housing Units” create an unconstitutional risk of harm”. The agreement provides that the state will immediately take steps to remove minors, pregnant women and developmentally disabled individuals from solitary confinement in these “Special Housing Units”. Minors and pregnant women will now be prohibited from receiving such sanctions. The developmentally disabled will have a time limit of 30 days of solitary confinement, which is huge given that the NYCLU found that the average stay in these “Special Housing Units” is 150 days.   The agreement appoints experts in the field to devise a plan for reform for the state’s prison system, expected to be issued this spring. It also holds DCCS accountable for the use of this type of punishment by forcing them to provide NYCLU with monthly reports on the “use and condition of the cells”. Quarterly reports will also be generated  “analyzing trends and outcomes for those individuals in the prison isolation system”.

The agreement is a large step toward prison reform in our state, the biggest prison system to take on this sort of reform in the country.  I don’t think I need to labor on about just how big it is. I’ll assume you as social workers can surmise the effects of solitary confinement on individuals, particularly those that are seriously mentally ill. I don’t think I need to tell you, social workers, how jarring it is for an individual to be released from solitary right into our community. I’m guessing you already know how this might affect one’s chances for success post-release. Nahh, instead of using statistics, studies and case examples as I usually do, I’ve decided to try a different method of inciting the advocate in you: the comment section.  In reading an exorbitant  amount of articles on this subject, I came across some gems of public commentary that I’d like to share:

NYC Taxpayer says: People forget that these prisoners are convicted 
FELONS and are in prison for good reason. I feel no sympathy for 
rapists, burglars, robbers, car thieves and the like. I think we pamper prisoners in New York.

Steve says: Actually it is the victims and what they suffered at the hands of 
these convicts who are the forgotten ones -And I wish that an equal amount of ACLU time and effort was spent ensuring their rights and protection. These convicts 
are in SHU units for good reason-it is their action(s) that put them in that unit. You do the crime-you should do the time-and that time should be done in the SHU 
unit if a convict's actions in prison warrant that placement.

PMAC says: Why aren't we talking about the reason why a prisoner is put in 
solitary confinement??? Prisons are not country clubs - you act out of line, you 
pay the consequences. Prisons should be a place that instill fear -- a fear that 
'prevents' someone from committing a crime! The slogan used by the CLU (who put 
more criminals back on the streets to kill/main people) should be: "You never want to end up in prison".

Endless War says: "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time…" Solitary 
confinement is punishment for people removed from society for criminal behaviour 
who, subsequently, could not even interact with like-minded criminals in a civil 
manner.The recidivism rate for NY State inmates is already 40-60% (Governor 
Cuomo's office). Will making prison more homey and less-confining really improve 
that number? Solitary confinement can be used to protect the prison population 
from out of control individuals as well as protect those individuals (including 
the mentally ill) from retaliation and abuse by the general prison population. To do away with it will put guards and prisoners at risk as well as remove one of the methods to deter repeat offenders. NY prisoners are not wayward children, they 
are for the most part career murderers and rapists who show a wanton disregard for the rights of free-living citizens of the United States. Pardon me if I can't 
lose any sleep about how accommodating their punitive atmosphere may be.

Kurt says: "The most common infraction was failure to obey an order, which 
resulted in 35,000 such punishments, the data showed." That's exactly why they're in prison in the first place because they can't follow the rules of a civilized 
society. Learning to obey the rules is the first step in integrating an inmate 
back into society. If they can't do that then they belong right where they are.

 

I chose these comments because I think they demonstrate just how vulnerable a population our country’s prison inmates are. Mr. Endless War and Mrs. NYC Taxpayer clearly do not care if some “FELON” spends 150 days locked in a concrete parking space and I think that demonstrates why we should. As so many of these commentators so cleverly pointed out “you do the crime, you pay the time” and though not terribly astute, I can see their point. Yes, do the time but I don’t believe the time needs to be done in a “Special Housing Unit”.  Prisoners are not “for the most part career murderers and rapists.”   While they might be “rapists, burglars, robbers, car thieves and the like” (and don’t forget stealers, we are looking for synonyms right?), they could also be seriously mentally ill or a first time offender with a drug addiction or just a person who made a terrible mistake in their life. Whomever they are and whatever they have done, they might be our clients at one point or another; and on account of that, I think its our duty to stand up against the Kurts and the Steves and demand for prison reform,  even if it comes one agreement at time.

More articles: Here and Here

And just because I think its funny:

Cleo says: If I was in prison, I would prefer to spend the entire time in 
solitary, preferably with my own bathroom and shower. Also, a lock from the 
inside.

My field placement this year is at an immigration center which sort of gives me in an interesting position from which to view the current debate surrounding immigration reform. I guess it might come as no surprise that after meeting with immigrant clients for a semester, I’ve grown increasingly interested in the outcome of the debate. My first real client there, in my opinion, was the poster child for Immigration Reform. She had grown up here, all her family members had legal immigration status but somewhere along the line, her parents had forgotten to petition for her lawful permanent residence. Now in her thirties, it was too late. There were no available remedies for her other than to wait for her two small American children to grow up and petition on her behalf. In the meantime though,  my client was left in a very difficult situation, supporting her two children alone without the ability to gain lawful employment and an inability to access many community resources. It seems wildly unfair to me  that a person so motivated and so eager to become a contributing citizen of our country would be denied the chance, primarily on account of mistakes made by others before she was old enough to understand the implications. This is an argument  that is  playing out (in a slightly different form) in California courts currently.

On two recent occasions, a naturalized citizen name Victor Guerro applied for a position with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.  During the background check that was required prior to being hired, Mr. Guerro admitted that he had, at one time in his life, gained employment in the United States using a social security number that was not his own. Allegedly, his parents had provided it to him when he was 15 and he was unaware of the fraud being perpetrated until he was 17 years old.  At the point when he learned that his social security number was not real, he started paying taxes using what is commonly referred to as an ITIN (Individual Taxpayer Identification Number). On account of this admission, Mr. Guerro was denied the position with the CA Board of Corrections and Rehabilitation. The rationale cited for his rejected application was that using a false social security number “shows a lack of honesty, integrity and good judgment”.   Mr. Guerro is now suing the CA Board of Corrections and Rehabilitation for discrimination.

The reason this case is one that social workers should watch is that many of our clients, themselves, may be in this position. Think those benefiting from DACA in particular.  Coming to the States as a child, their parents may have provided them with a social security number for safety or for work purposes. Now older with lawful immigration statuses, they are being denied opportunities for gainful employment. It keeps them marginalized and provides an advantage for native born citizens in the job market. If state agencies can get away with this sort of discrimination, then what would stop other employers?

After reading this case and being around  all this talk about how miraculous immigration reform could be,  I can’t help but wonder if immigration reform will really end up eliminating barriers for immigrants to the United States like my client, or if ultimately, new barriers like the one that Mr. Guerro faced will just pop in their place. Once again, I find myself thinking about social justice advocacy and feeling compelled to ask y’all, what do you think?

PS: Check out the New York Immigration Coalition website to get involved in advocating for Immigration reform.