On trying a different solution….

About a year ago, I read this article in the New York Times. The article discussed sex offenders in Suffolk County who were forced (because of restrictive conditions placed upon them after release from prison) to live in two trailers on the edge of town. About 40 men all told split between 2 trailers, only one of which had a shower. Men from unlucky trailer #2 would be bussed to shower every few days in trailer #1. The men reported conditions were exactly as one might imagine them to be when 20 frustrated, angry men are living in bunk beds in a tiny trailer.  What struck me (and the reason that I remember the article vividly over a year after I initially reading it) was how very much it sounded like even though the men had served their time in prison, they were still prisoners of the system (yes, I’m talking about this again).  Sex offenders, I would venture to say, are among the most hated members of our society. They are pariah, modern day lepers.  Believe me, I get it. I’m sure there are many who believe  that these deplorable living conditions are more than those who have committed sexual assault deserve, and I can’t fault them for thinking that.

The idea that I’ve most connected to as I become indoctrinated as a social worker is that in order to understand  a person’s presenting issue, one must step back and take a look at the person in the context of their environment (past and present).  I thought about this when I read this article published on CNN’s website as a part of their Change the List project. The article was one in a series attempting to find an explanation for Alaska’s high rate of sexual assault and highlighting efforts to change that statistic in the state. The author, John D. Sutter, was able to sit in on a group session held at a treatment program for sex offenders that seemed to embody this doctrine of social work. In this particular treatment program, participants are assigned a “safety net” of 5 volunteers from the community to assist them with their rehabilitation. It keep the participants engaged in the community and near the support and counseling that they very much need. Its the antithesis of hulling the offenders up in a trailer outside of town. It holds the offenders accountable for their actions, their “safety net” is watching after all and places their struggles front and center. By doing this, the program addresses the underlying issues that may have lead to the assault in the first place. Many sex offenders were themselves victims of sexual abuse or violence at sometime in their life. Others struggle with feelings of unworthiness, helplessness, lack of control. Working at all these underlying issues seems to give the offenders hope and motivation for change. Being cast off from society and sent to the outer edges of town where your neighbors hate you and protest your presence probably doesn’t do that.  I would guess it adds an additional dimension to an already uphill battle.

Sometimes I get it in my head to write about  topic, like this one, and everything seems to align to promote my agenda. I came across this article by the grace of the universe earlier this week. The author, a survivor of incest,  says it much more eloquently. She calls on us (among other professions) to promote the creation of programs, like the one in Alaska, aimed at addressing the issue of sexual assault in a family WITH the family.  She rejects the shunning of offenders (even the perpetrator of her assault) and calls for more group work, more family therapy, saying   “We know where to begin to heal our families and our country. We know what to do. And yet, we’re not doing it. We’re giving in to fear and looking for a quick fix.”

I agree. I don’t think trailers and isolation are the answer …..  what about you?

Stop-and-Vote

Whenever I come across those NYPD bag searching bases in the subway (I’m sure they have an official title but I have no idea what that is), I play a little game. As soon as I come down those stairs  and spot that table surrounded by police officers, I take on the role of  “Suspicious Character Kayt.” I nervously grasp my tote bag. I avoid eye contact with the officers. Sometimes I put my head down. Sometimes I anxiously look around as if I’m considering making a run for it. It really all depends on my mood how dramatic my portrayal of “Suspicious Character Kayt” is but, regardless of how Oscar worthy my performance (and, believe me, I think I’m pretty good),  I have yet to be stopped. Now this may have something to do with the NYPD officers’ skill level at assessing real and credible threats or it may have something to do with my age,  the fact that I am white and the fact that I am a woman. This is not the experience of many other New Yorkers in the subway station and on the streets where they live. Many young people, particularly minority men  aged 13-24, living in stop-and-frisk “hot spots” have often been stopped numerous times. A recent Vera Institute study suggests 9 times or more.  This is the issue at the center of the debate surrounding the NYPD’s stop-and-frisk policy; a debate that is currently playing out in the federal court system and  one that I feel I would be remiss if I did not mention, as it so acutely highlights the concept of social justice that differentiates social work from other social science fields.

 

The NYPD’s stop-and-frisk policy, as its called, essentially allows for police officers to stop anyone they have “reasonable suspicion” to suspect of criminal activity. One might wonder what constitutes “reasonable suspicion.” That answer is not a clear one. The NYPD sees stop-and-frisk as a preventative measure. Instead of waiting for crimes to occur and reacting, the police stop would-be-criminals before they have a chance to engage in criminal activity. To them, its a proactive stance and one that has significantly impacted the crime rates of NYC. Anyone could be stopped and frisked they say.  Civil rights group see it a different way. They have brought numerous lawsuits against the city’s police department alleging that this “reasonable suspicion” is without merit and largely based on skin color. “Suspicious Character Kayt’s” inability to draw attention may just illustrate their point.

This week, the judge who ruled on these cases brought by civil rights groups has taken center stage. Judge Shira A. Scheindlin has heard numerous stop-and-frisk cases over the last decade,beginning in 1999 with a the infamous Diallo case. She has had this opportunity on account of the court’s “related-case-rule.” “Related-case-rule”  allows judges the chance to accept cases that they deem to have “similarity of facts and legal issues” or those that emanate from the “same transactions or events,” all in an effort to conserve judicial resources. In a ruling issued on Thursday by the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit, Judge Scheindlin was removed from the latest stop-and-frisk case before her (Floyd v. City of New York) and her rulings were reversed. The panel of three judges issuing this ruling believed that Judge Scheindlin had, perhaps, been too liberal with her application of the “related-case-rule” and that she did not appear to be impartial about the matter.

The reversal of Judge Scheindlin’s recent orders means that no monitor will be appointed to perform a watchdog function over the NYPD’s searches and the pilot program that was meant to record street encounters for five of the city’s precincts will not be implemented at this time. A new judge will have a chance to rule on this, but only after the Court of Appeals gives the go ahead. The impact of the Court of Appeals findings could be vast in the communities where many of us work at our field placements. Without monitoring, the NYPD is free to continue to stop-and-frisk racial minorities in disproportionate amounts. This can lead to disproportionate numbers of arrests, felony convictions, incarcerations. All of which, as we know,  greatly affect a community’s ability to prosper.

One thing we can do to advocate for socially just NYPD policies is to vote tomorrow in the mayoral election. Bill de Blasio has widely criticized the tactics of stop-and-frisk, Joseph Lhota is in favor. The choice will be our next mayor’s as to whether to continue to pursue the appeal of Judge Scheindlin’s orders or to go ahead and implement reform.  While casting a ballot on November 5 may just turn out to be a means to end for my acting career and “Suspicious Character Kayt,”   it also offers a real chance to provide relief in the communities who most deserve it, and, in my opinion, that’s a rare opportunity.

Court Proceedings Lost in Translation

Recently, I found myself stuck in a courtroom waiting on a judge’s signature in the midst of a trial. During said trial, a witness required a court interpreter in order to give his testimony. The interpreter’s role was to relay questions being asked of the witness (in his primary language) as well as the witness’ responses to these questions to the courtroom (in English). The interpreter also relayed translation of discussions that occurred between the opposing party and the judge. As an observer who didn’t speak the primary language of the witness, I found myself engrossed by the interactions between interpreter and witness. How do we know what that the witness is understanding the questions or that they are being interpreted correctly if no one else here speaks that language? Why did the interpreter and witness just have a back and forth exchange when no one was talking to them? Are they talking about me sitting in the back of the courtroom?

It’s a fascinating thing, watching a court interpreter at work. To me, its mind boggling how fast their brains must take in information in one language, translate and then spit it out in a completely different one.  Sometimes the translations seem be happening simultaneously as the words are flowing from the person who is speaking, as if the interpreter is a mind reader!  As fascinated  and impressed as I am with an interpreter’s skill set, I also can not help but feel concerned with the whole process.  How can the witness focus with two people speaking at the same time? How can they completely tune out the English if its their secondary language? Do they trust the interpreter’s translation?

As it turns out, my concerns are not necessarily unfounded. Well, all my concerns except the one about the witness mocking me to the interpreter… I think.   According to a report written in 2011 by the Immigration Court Observation Project, (ICOP) interpretation in immigration courts was determined to be real issue. Interpretations services in many ways appeared to be inadequate.  For example, only statements made to or from the respondent are translated for them causing confusion about what is occurring in the proceedings. It was observed in a number of cases that translation  did not always occur in the proper dialect or, even more disturbing, proper language for the respondent to understand. Despite court interpreters being held to a professional standard of conduct, many appeared to disavow this code.  These issues are not unique to immigration court. At one seminar I attended for work, a domestic violence survivor advocate spoke about these issues plaguing survivors’ experiences in family or matrimonial court as well. In addition, she created awareness that in smaller communities there is an increased probability of the survivor knowing her interpreter. This could cause the survivor to feel intimidated or embarrassed during their testimony which could, in turn, affect its quality.

In thinking about this issue, I wondered how, as a social worker, I could assist clients for whom English is not their primary language when they must make a court appearance. It seems to me, the best course of action would be to prepare our clients prior to their court date, empowering them with knowledge. Our clients should know they are entitled to a court interpreter in their primary language even if they also speak English. They  have a right to a proper translation of their court proceeding. They must be encouraged to raise any concerns about interpretations or the person carrying out the interpretation with their lawyers or, if they are not represented, with the judge.

Another way for social workers to get involved with this issue is through advocacy. Barrier Free Living is working to ensure that domestic violence survivors with hearing impairments are provided with adequate American Sign Language interpreters.  The New York Immigration Coalition  works for justice for immigrants. The Vera Institute of Justice strives to increase fairness in the justice system in numerous ways, this could become one.

Any thoughts?

Housing Relief for Formerly Incarcerated Individuals?!?!

Last Tuesday, in the New York Times, I read about an 85 year old medically ailing inmate named Mr. Koti who was recently denied parole. ( NOTE: Mr Koti has an exemplary prison record and prisoners over 60 have a 1% recidivism rate, btw… real threat but thats a whole ‘nother issue, I digress.) In the article, the author recounts Mr. Koti’s parole hearing.  Mr Koti, in advance of his parole hearing, had accepted an offer from his sister to live with her. “Where does your sister live?” asked the parole commissioner. If Mr. Koti’s answer had been any of the New York City Housing Authority’s (NYCHA) 334 developments (known to the rest of us, outside of the NYCHA office, as “projects”) then Mr. Koti would have had a problem (well if the parole had been granted.) Up until this month many with felony and certain kinds of misdemeanor convictions would be excluded from living on NYCHA property. As social workers working with the prison population surely know, this can be a giant problem. What’s changed this month you ask?

Well, nothing but maybe something. I’ll explain.

This week, through my job, I was invited to a seminar hosted by Safe Horizon where NYCHA officials were asked to speak on the topic of Domestic Violence priority status for NYCHA housing applications. We got a little off topic and one NYCHA employee took a moment (that turned into an hour) to inform us about NYCHA’s new pilot program aptly called “Family Re-entry Pilot Program.”  Through this program, 150 families will be reunited over the next two years in NYCHA housing; families who previously would have been prohibited from doing so on account of one member of their family having a felony conviction.  Former inmates will be referred to this program from NYCHA’s partner agencies like The Fortune Society and Osborne Association. Its my understanding, that the individuals referred to the program must be 18 months post-release and their convictions cannot break the federal guidelines set by HUD.This means they cannot be sex offenders or have been convicted of producing meth in public housing. They cannot be an active substance abuser (an addict who is not participating in a registered treatment program). They cannot have been evicted from public housing on account of drug trafficking  nor can they have received a lifelong ban from residing in public housing. Upon receiving the referral, NYCHA will hold their own screening process that includes a check of the tenancy records of the family that the former prisoner wishes to reunite with and a home visit to make sure the family is on board with the reunification.

Once individuals have been admitted to the program they are granted temporary permission to living in public housing for the next two years. They must agree to be subjected to “intensive case management” for a period of at least 6 months and then “less frequent contact” for a period of up to 18 months.  The family members, other than the formerly incarcerated individual, are not subjected to the same case management standard though they can opt to have a caseworker of their own if they wish. At the end of two years, upon successful completion of the program,  the former inmates can relinquish their temporary permission and become a permanent member of the family composition in the eyes of NYCHA.

NYCHA had its first referral earlier this month.

It’s a very small step, I know, but I, personally, find this program pretty encouraging. It won’t be an easy go, that’s for sure, but I have high hopes that the 150 individuals admitted into the pilot program over the next two years can pave the way for many more family reunifications and brighter futures, without homelessness or recidivism, for former prisoners upon release.

What do you think?