The Alabama they don't want to see

You can't fix what you refuse to admit.

Tears, anguish, rage and grief came together in Montgomery on March 7th as people with loved ones inside the Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC) walked shoulder to shoulder and honored the men and women in prison, while calling for accountability and change. I also saw a lot of love at this event—for each other, for the families who have suffered, and for our brothers and sisters in prison. It was a refreshing departure from the myopic divisiveness supplied by Governor Kay Ivey, Attorney General Steve Marshall and the rest of the “lock-em-up” brigade that runs this state.

Many people at the event have lost a loved one to prison violence, drugs or suicide. I saw grown men crying and people who were previously unknown to each other embracing in their common suffering. They lifted enlarged photos of men and women who have died in prison and held them close as they gathered, walked and shared experiences. There were around 160 photos in all, but that represents just a fraction of the dead.

At least 270 people died inside ADOC last year, an all-time high. 95 of those 270 perished from violence, drugs or suicide, and the death march continues this year. Alabama Appleseed reported that so far in 2023, someone has died at least every other day across Alabama’s prison system. The only way to interpret the continued silence from those in power is tacit approval.

In its typical obfuscating modus operandi, ADOC recently removed death data from its monthly statistical reports, as well as prison occupancy rates that show the severity of overcrowding. Both metrics have gotten worse since the Department of Justice sued the state in 2020, but instead of fully owning this terrible reality lived by thousands of Alabamians, ADOC just stopped reporting it publicly. Nothing to see here.

Despite being home to the deadliest prisons in the nation, the crisis got no acknowledgement in Gov. Ivey’s “state of the state” address. She mentioned ADOC only once, which was simply to proclaim that she “backs the blue” with correctional officer pay raises. Apparently she’s just fine pretending all those weeping family members don’t exist and the images of their sons and daughters don’t show real victims. Ivey, Marshall and ADOC Commissioner John Hamm have never said anything directly to the families of those who have died in their care.

I was honored to stand with these victims and call for improvements to the system and some measure of accountability. Even if it seems to fall on deaf ears, there is power in a gathering like this, put together by my friend Lauren Faraino, founder of The Woods Foundation, an organization providing assistance for people who are over-sentenced or wrongly convicted. It was formed in honor of Nate Woods, who was executed by the state in 2020.

Vigil for the victims of Alabama prisons

Trying to update Alabama’s swirling vortex in the crisis trifecta of deadly prisons, collapsed paroles and an inept legislature beginning a new session is like attempting to capture a flock of frantic, flapping blackbirds in a net designed for butterflies. So much is happening all at once that my brain and bandwidth can only absorb and process a fraction, but almost all of it reflects this same dynamic of powerful people refusing to see what’s right in front of them.

Most recently, Alabama’s Corrections Institution Finance Authority approved a 56% construction cost bump for Ivey’s mega-prison dream, driving the price to almost a billion dollars for a single prison. If you’re wondering how the hell this plan could skyrocket in cost with nary a warning, the answer is whoopsies, the previous estimate was based on “a very early design,” according to Finance Director Bill Poole. And gosh, the price for everything is on the rise.

“Can you spell inflation?” said Senator Greg Albritton when asked about the increase. “Every construction project that we have that is ongoing is experiencing this same phenomenon.”

Instead of exercising critical thinking skills and creativity, legislative leaders allowed inertia to carry them along, shrugging off the news and saying the mega-prison plan will continue. “As all of you know, we’ve got to do something,” House Speaker Nathaniel Ledbetter told reporters. And by something, he just means building more prisons, because that’s the only plan in Ivey’s “Alabama Solution” to address the state’s overcrowded and understaffed penal system.

Forget sentencing reform, evidence-based parole and more funding for drug-treatment and mental health services to prevent people from going to prison. The GOP-led legislature will march along in lockstep with Ivey on this, who drank the prison construction kool-aid with former ADOC Commissioner Jeff Dunn. Come hell or high water, they are getting those prisons built, no matter the cost, the environmental impact or the painful waste of a billion taxpayer dollars that could be better spent almost anywhere else. Schools. Feeding the hungry. Healthcare. Literally any other line item would be better.

Meanwhile the parole board continues to deny release to almost every eligible person. Only 30 paroles have been granted in 2023, and that’s out of 942 eligible people. The board even denied parole to a dead man and set him off the maximum five years, then had to issue a statement apologizing for the confusion. But who exactly is confused? It’s pretty clear what they’re doing—a pro forma process in which the default is no. They’re not actually “considering” people for parole, they’re just going through the motions as if it’s all fair and even-handed, but the fix is in. And the board members collect their six-figure salaries either way.

The grossest part in this parole meltdown is the high denial rate of people in minimum-security work release and work centers, slaving away in grunt jobs while the state gets a big cut. Those gigs are designed to be short term, but this parole board has turned minimum-security facilities into labor camps in perpetuity. But you wont see that fact in any press releases from the Bureau of Pardons and Paroles. Their focus is on rehabilitation and re-entry, which are fine areas to focus on, as long as you have more than a handful of people leaving prison to receive those services.

ADOC Commissioner John Hamm addressed lawmakers last month about his budget request to boost correctional officer pay, but the pay raise wasn’t the part that got my attention. It was him saying cell phones are the most pressing problem for the agency behind only staffing. REALLY? Cell phones are a bigger problem than the astonishing spike in preventable deaths? Cell phones are a bigger problem than the prolific drug trafficking throughout the system facilitated by corrupt staff? Cell phones are a bigger problem than the deadly Fentanyl that has killed who knows how many incarcerated people?

This is what I mean when I say you cannot fix what you refuse to admit. Cell phones do cause problems for the agency, mostly by capturing the chaos, excessive force and widespread drug use that would otherwise remain hidden. Cell phones are a pesky challenge because they allow communication that confronts the false narrative ADOC perpetuates that EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL. It’s true, cell phones are part of the contraband trade, and the contraband trade underpins almost all of the violence inside the prisons, but what underpins that? CORRUPTION. That should be the number one focus of this agency. But new buildings won’t fix that.

Commissioner Hamm told lawmakers he hopes the salary boost will help them recruit new officers (fingers crossed!) because they are WAY BEHIND on hiring the 2000 additional officers a federal Court ordered them to hire in 2019. That 4000-man mega-prison can’t staff itself, and until all the deals are signed, you better believe few people will get out of prison. For those dead set on building more human cages, keeping the current prisons packed and dysfunctional helps justify their commitment.

All these things taken together makes it seem like there are two realities in Alabama: the horror experienced by incarcerated people & their loved ones, and business as usual in Montgomery. These two realities do not exist in the same universe and the message from Alabama leaders is resounding. They do not see incarcerated people as people, and do not care about their needs or struggles. It’s OK if parole is a sham. Reducing the prison population might reveal what the prison construction plan really is: an Alabama solution crafted by special interests to make money off human misery.