Month: November 2022

In Virginia’s state prisons, just about everything costs money, from phone calls to soap to toilet paper. And because incarcerated people make less than 50 cents per hour, they often rely on their loved ones to help them cover prison’s prohibitive costs, putting many families into debt. 

To alleviate the burden these fees put on incarcerated people and their loved ones, a state workgroup recommends the Virginia Department of Corrections offer no-cost phone calls, secure messaging, and video calls; eliminate commissions on commissary sales; reduce deposit fees; and increase its food budget per person, among other reforms, according to a report delivered to the General Assembly on October 1. State lawmakers commissioned the report during this year’s legislative session. 

“These fees … are a hidden, regressive tax on the most vulnerable people in our community—83 percent of which are female, and most of them are Black and brown,” says Shawn Weneta, a policy strategist for the ACLU of Virginia. “One in three families goes into debt trying to stay in contact with an incarcerated loved one.”

Implementing the report’s dozen recommendations would cost approximately 2 percent of the VADOC’s $1.4 billion budget. However, the department has rejected most of them, leaving it up to state legislators to pass the reforms. 

In addition to formerly incarcerated individuals, family members of incarcerated people, and VADOC employees, the bipartisan workgroup included representatives from ACLU-VA, Sistas in Prison Reform, Worth Rises, and six other advocacy organizations, as well as four state legislators: Del. Patrick Hope, Sen. Jennifer Boysko, and Sen. Barbara Favola (all Democrats), and Republican Del. Mike Cherry.

Under the VADOC’s current business model, incarcerated people pay $0.0409 per minute for phone calls, $4 for a 20-minute video call, $8 for a 50-minute video call, and at least 25 cents per stamp. This is not the case in other states. In Connecticut, phone and video calls and emails are provided at no cost to incarcerated people. And, this year, California passed legislation making prison phone calls free. In Illinois, calls cost about 20 percent of the price of calls in Virginia, though they use the same vendor as the commonwealth, reads the report.

The non-VADOC stakeholders argue that giving incarcerated people free communications would foster stronger parent-child relationships, promote rehabilitation, and reduce recidivism, among other benefits. And it would only cost around $7 million per year—cheaper than many other prison programs.

“Ties to the community and family is one of the greatest indicators of successful re-entry upon release,” says Weneta, who is formerly incarcerated.

“Some of these people are having to pay 35 to 50 cents just to send an email—that’s unconscionable to me,” says Del. Cherry. “The money is there to [offer communication] for free.”

The stakeholders also urge the VADOC to stop collecting a commission—currently 9 percent—on goods sold in prison commissaries, which forces incarcerated people to buy necessities at massively inflated prices. “If you have more than $5 a month, you have to provide everything for yourself. … If you’re earning 23 cents, 27 cents an hour, [you] have to use that,” says Weneta. 

Additionally, stakeholders argue, the VADOC should increase its food budget from $2.20 to $4 per day per person and provide healthier meals, which would reduce diet-related diseases among incarcerated people—and, in turn, decrease the department’s spending on prison medical services.

“The biggest single line item in the DOC’s $1.5 billion budget is medical care,” says Weneta. “We have an aging prison population who have been eating these terribly unhealthy meals for decades. … Now you have people struggling with diabetes, cardiovascular disease, all sorts of chronic conditions.”

“I spend $1.20 for [my] cat to eat one meal, and the idea that people who are incarcerated are not getting much more than that is a little bit troubling,” adds Sen. Boysko. 

Pushing against a no-cost communications model, the VADOC argues that many incarcerated people “are on the telephone most of the day” under the current toll rate model, causing some to bully or extort others from using the phones. “Unlimited calls can impact the inmate’s motivation to … participate in vital educational and re-entry programming,” reads the VADOC’s response in the report. 

Eliminating commissions would provide less funding for services for incarcerated people, claims the VADOC. The department also says that it already serves meals meeting dietary standards, but is working to improve its menu.

“I’m disappointed quite frankly by the DOC,” says Del. Cherry. “They’re taking a stance that they know what’s best and that there are no issues. I don’t think anyone could look at the statistics [and] recommendations of the people that are most closely working with this, and think that everything’s okay.” 

The ACLU and other advocacy groups are currently working with lawmakers to introduce bills codifying the stakeholders’ recommendations during the 2023 legislative session. Boysko and Cherry remain optimistic they can get these reforms passed.

There’s an “appetite in Richmond” on both sides of the aisle for increased oversight of the VADOC’s budget, says Cherry. “We’re just hopeful to get things moving in the right direction—and at least advance the conversation, if not the legislation.”

“We have the data to show that these changes are possible,” adds Boysko, “and I’m pledging to continue to work with the DOC to try to realize this.”

A state study on goods and service fees at local jails is currently underway, and due December 1. At Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail, incarcerated people receive hygiene products, feminine products, socks, underwear, and t-shirts free of charge, in addition to three meals per day, according to superintendent Martin Kumer. However, they pay 12 cents per minute for phone calls, 25 cents per minute for video calls, 25 cents per electronic message, $1.00 per video message, and .05 cents per minute for games, movies, and music.

ACRJ collects an 80 percent commission on phone and video calls and entertainment media. Phone commissions go towards the jail’s general operating fund. The jail also collects a 41 percent commission on commissary items, which is “used to pay for cable, programming (UVA Russian Literature Class), substance abuse, and educational staff salaries,” said Kumer in an email.

The University Police Department and National Organization of Black Law Enforcement hosted a procedural justice workshop, titled Policing With Our Community, at UVA on October 26. The event provided insight into not only the ways in which police departments could improve their relationship with the communities they serve, but also foster trust and loyalty within their internal structure. UPD officers and staff, two former FBI agents, and many university students and professors attended the free gathering. 

Former UNC-Chapel Hill police chief David Perry, a speaker for NOBLE, described the ways in which police officers have come “together all over the country to advance their partnership with communities.” He explained 21st-century policing and how it is driven by procedural justice—“it helps the root system grow,” he said. Through examples taken from various facets of college and police life, he demonstrated the importance of transparency and impartiality when it comes to the implementation of policies. 

NOBLE’s Robert Stewart, who worked for the Washington, D.C., police department for nearly two decades, provided attendees with a better understanding of the day-to-day operations of a police department, stressing that “cliques” within police departments can obscure accountability for officers. He asserted that this problem is not just limited to white-dominated police departments.

“We had Black chiefs who promoted their friends and couldn’t discipline them,” Stewart said. 

Stewart also emphasized the importance of educating police officers before they pick up their badge and gun. He suggested that a solution to constant police understaffing could be to have unarmed trainee officers address and write up non-violent crime reports, such as robberies and road accidents—75 to 80 percent of all crime reports do not require being armed. This way, trainees could do the “simple stuff” before dealing with any violent crime offenses, he said.

It takes five years for new police officers to become fully educated in their profession, explained Stewart, stressing the importance of “tactical soundness” on the job, and the problems with the current promotion system within police departments. The best officers, he insisted, are often taken out of patrol to be trained in specialized units—positions that have very little interaction with the public. 

During the question and answer portion of the workshop, C-VILLE questioned UPD Chief Tim Longo about the department’s lack of transparency in the early days of its investigation into the September 7 Homer statue hate crime, during which Albemarle County resident Shane Dennis placed a noose, a weapon used to lynch Black people for centuries, around the neck of the  Central Grounds statue. In the weeks following the discovery of the noose, student groups learned that the perpetrator left documents at the foot of the statue. Though UPD confirmed that the perpetrator had left items, police provided no further details, sparking widespread student protest. The university administration did not reveal until September 22 that one of the documents contained the words “TICK TOCK.”

Longo pushed back against this criticism, explaining his initial decision to keep the contents of the document private. “We keep information private that only the suspect would know. We need to be sure that they can only know that information if they were involved [in the crime],” he explained.

He argued that there must be a balance between being transparent with the community without compromising the integrity of the investigation.

Closing out the event, officers shared their stories of enjoying their decades of service, and encouraged the Charlottesville community to “come to the table” with local police departments to foster a greater sense of trust and accountability.