From the Executive Director

Dear Friends,

I’d like to share a story that illustrates the kind of deeply rooted problems currently facing the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, problems that go far beyond the lack of funding for educational and recovery programs.

A few months ago, individual students in the College Program –
some close to completing their degree, others just starting out –
began to receive notice that they would be transferred out of San
Quentin to prisons around the state within 10-60 days. It seemed
like every evening we heard from another student who had been
devastated to learn that he would be leaving, and would thus not
be able to remain in school. People began to be shipped out – to
Chuckawalla, California Men’s Colony, and other prisons. (A letter
from one of these students, now at CMC, is available here.)

CDCR had begun a “population realignment” – a plan to move “Medium A” prisoners living in cells to dormitories at other institutions, in order to make room for the ever-increasing “Close B” population around the state which, per policy, cannot be housed in dorms. (Close B status is determined primarily by previous escape attempts or the amount of time one has left to serve.) People began to be moved into and out of San Quentin without regard for their interest in participating in any of the extremely rare programs off ered there. About a third of our students are classified as Medium A.

To their credit and to our great relief, the Department recently
imposed a temporary freeze on transfers of some participants in the college program and some other programs, though it’s not clear how long this will hold. But the even bigger question is, what are CDCR staff supposed to do in the long run? The problem is rooted in overcrowding, and specifi cally in sentencing: the Close B population
is increasing because the number of people sentenced to long prison
terms is increasing; the current “population realignment” will be, at
best, a short-term solution to a massive systemic problem.

One could change Departmental policy concerning who is classified as Close B, or where Close B prisoners can be housed, but policy change is both mind-numbingly complex and slow. Even more, many staff and administrators would oppose such change, for fear that it might lead to the very problems the rules were meant to prevent – such as violence or escapes.

In fact, administrators are often unwilling to seek a change in policy, or to exercise the discretion allowed by regulation, even if they believe that doing so would pose little risk. Th is seems to be rooted in an almost superstitious aversion to departing from longstanding practice, as well as in a stark awareness that if something goes wrong and it later comes out that standard policy had not been followed, someone will be punished, or even fi red. This has indeed been true historically, even when circumstances such as overcrowding or understaffing had left no other option. CDCR’s relationships with the legislature, the media, and the public have long been defined by scapegoating, and this has produced a culture that is defensive, disempowered, averse to innovation, and at times immune to reason.

One of the most painful things I’ve observed while working in this
environment has been individual administrators who, faced with this sort of impossible bind, attempt to rationalize arbitrary and destructive “solutions.” We’ve been told on a number of occasions that moving students out who’ve only just started in the college preparatory program, or who have been enrolled for a while and are taking longer than average to complete the degree, would be a reasonable “compromise.” The former are described as not yet invested; the latter are characterized as malingerers.

The sad irony is that almost everyone I have met working inside
CDCR – including those who’ve made these arguments – would be
thrilled to see us expand our programs, serve many more people,
change more lives, and improve public safety – all at no cost to
the taxpayer. As I write, I picture the students now scattered to
other institutions across the state, and I picture the staff and
administrators at San Quentin and at CDCR headquarters whose
hands have been tied, and I feel the depth of all of their frustration.

Aside from the sentencing laws that have produced this crisis, the
great tragedy here is the extreme lack of educational opportunities
at other institutions across the state, which this whole situation has
underscored: If higher education and other valuable programs were
available in every prison, being moved involuntarily would surely be
disruptive, but it might not feel quite as catastrophic. I hope that
both CDCR and the Governor’s offi ce will step up and offer the
leadership and political coverage necessary to clear the way for real
solutions to these and other problems, and to support those who
are on the frontlines of this crisis. In the meantime, we are deeply
indebted to those who continue to advocate on behalf of our work.

With warm regards and best wishes for a happy holiday,

Jody Lewen