By Emily B. Evans
Bullies seek to harm and intimidate those who are perceived as vulnerable. By that definition, COVID-19 is a bully. It harms the most vulnerable among us, silently and often undetected. It doles out death sentences, robs families of loved ones and steals livelihoods from hard-working citizens.
Residents in Delaware’s correctional facilities have been bullied relentlessly by COVID-19 since March. COVID-19 has infiltrated prisons in the state, resulting in at least 13 deaths and over 1,865 positive cases among the incarcerated population. To prevent the spread of the virus, educational programs, work programs, parole/commutation hearings and law library access have been drastically restricted for various amounts of time throughout the pandemic.
When people in prison are unable to access these resources, their sentences are effectively lengthened. Good-time credits have not been issued to eligible people for at least 10 months, so sentences are being lengthened by an average of five days per month, per person. There are nearly 4,500 people living in prisons in Delaware right now. That means COVID-19 has effectively bullied its way into adding 225,000 days to sentences in our state.
Just like the bully in school who isn’t satisfied until someone is crying, COVID-19 continues its punishing reign by robbing people in prison of the few experiences that reinforce one’s humanity and sense of connection to others. People in prison have lost family visitation, commissary visits, worship services and postal mail for differing lengths of time. Within the desolate landscape of a prison, denying human beings these very basic human rights could certainly qualify as cruel and unusual punishment.
A prison sentence in our state is designed to be a punishment. The system was not designed to deliver restorative justice, rehabilitation and healing, but instead was designed based on retributive justice, which assumes that those who break the law deserve to suffer. People in prison suffer enough without the added trauma of enduring a public health emergency while incarcerated.
According to public health experts, an effective strategy to combat the bully that is COVID-19 is to reduce population density. People in prison often share many spaces: dining halls, common areas, cells and dormitories. These environments encourage the spread of the virus, leaving prisoners increasingly vulnerable to infection. Quarantines can help, but can also be more punishing. Residents have been forced to give up their personal belongings, are placed in isolation or have suffered multiple infections despite taking precautions.
Releasing eligible individuals from prison early has been an effective strategy used in other states, such as New Jersey, to mitigate the harmful effects of the COVID-19 bully.
So, what are we to do? Shall we keep taking swipes against the coronavirus and hope that we can land a good punch or pray that it will eventually leave on its own? Do we turn into the guilty bystanders, remaining silent while we watch this bully beat our fellow brothers and sisters to death?
It’s time to speak up. It’s time to find our voices and fight back. Though it is formidable, we are not powerless. We can take steps to protect the vulnerable.
Enter House Bill 37: the hero coming to ensure the bully returns the valuable time, health and opportunities for redemption stolen from the people who live and work in our prisons.
As with all bullies, COVID-19 is an opportunist, and it is within our power to reduce the opportunity of this virus to infect and spread. HB 37, the Public Health Emergency Credit bill, will fairly and safely reduce overall prison populations in our state by awarding up to a maximum of one year of good-time credit to eligible residents. That means that those set for reentry within the next year will be eligible for an earlier release, translating to fewer bodies inside prison walls for the COVID-19 bully to attack.
This is not a free handout. The bill will compensate inmates for the good-time credits they are justly due. Some people may end up being released early due to the passage of the bill, but who’s to say what they could have been earning in the way of good time credits had the pandemic not interfered? This is a critical and necessary mitigating measure that will help relieve some of the extraordinary suffering that many people in prison and their families have endured during the pandemic.
Relieving suffering is not like a pie. If we offer relief for one group of people, it doesn’t mean that others have to suffer. Justice is a renewable resource, and it won’t “run out” if we grant freedom to folks in order to reduce the harmful effects of the pandemic. This bill will not raise taxes and only involves inmates whose release would come within the next year. This bill will allow citizens to return to their homes, families, and communities in a fair and organized manner.
In the Hebrew Scriptures, King Solomon penned, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” In this case, hearts, as well as bodies, have been sickened. People in prison are longing for their freedom. But the COVID-19 bully has deferred their hope.
Hope is on the horizon for those who live and work in prisons, but we need to work together to beat the bully. And before you say “But they don’t deserve it,” ask yourself first, “Does anyone deserve to be bullied by COVID-19?”
Emily B. Evans is president of the New Castle County chapter of Smart Justice Delaware.
