No Way Out: COVID in
Detention Facilities By Shonali Polacios
Artwork by Eric Kim, Staff Artist

It will likely surprise few that the United States’ incarcerated population has been at the forefront of suffering amidst the pandemic. According to The Marshall Project, as of December 2020 one in five state and federal prisoners had at some point tested positive for COVID-19. At this point in the pandemic, well over 2,000 incarcerated individuals have died. The director of the UCLA COVID-19 Behind Bars project also notes that their data has shown over 81,000 cases among detention staff.  There are a plethora of reasons why the virus has swept through the already-overwhelmed American prison and jail system in the devastating way that it has: inability to social distance behind bars, poor ventilation, communal eating, and inadequate medical care from often underfunded and understaffed of incarceration facilities, are just a few. Whatever the reasons, the end effect has been disastrous for the incarcerated population and correctional staff alike, who face heightened risk of infection countrywide. Some states, including California, opted to begin efforts to decarcerate during the pandemic, a method of prevention that has had demonstrable positive outcomes throughout the country. Whether or not facilities have actually chosen to take this approach varies across states. The lack of adequate protections has not gone unnoticed by detainees. In February of 2021, inmates at the City Justice Center (a St. Louis jail) revolted in a third protest against COVID-19 protocols and conditions. Activists say these individuals were demanding PPE, better heating, and improved clothing, among other requests, though this is disputed by some public safety officials. According to the Washington Post, a hotline set up by legal advocacy group ArchCity Defenders received calls prior to the conflict complaining about lack of isolation for prisoners who had tested positive. In the end, more than 100 inmates were involved in the disturbance and controlled parts of the facility for around six hours. UCLA law professor Sharon Dolovich told the Post, “That people in custody feel driven to this kind of response is a measure of the failure of various political institutions and the courts… to adequately respond to this virus.” 

As we begin to see the first glimpses of light at the end of the tunnel for the COVID-19 pandemic, we must accept the shameful but undeniable truth that in many ways, across many states and many cities, officials have failed to adequately protect some of the most vulnerable members of society who were placed in their care, as well as their own correctional staff. In the coming months, as the vaccine rollout continues, some facilities run the risk of repeating that failure.  The CDC recommends that, due to their status as essential workers and the high-risk environments in which they work, correctional and detention facility staff should be vaccinated in early stages of rollout programs. They further recommend that incarcerated or detained persons should be vaccinated concurrently with staff (CDC). As of now, the federal bureau of prisons appears to be following the CDC recommendations. But for state prisons, as well as local jails and detention centers, different jurisdictions will have to eke out their own action plans. Additionally, according to the Marshall project, as of March 2 only nine states “explicitly included” the incarcerated in their phase one procedures. A further eighteen have them placed in phase two. 

This patchwork of policies, as well as the political difficulty of advocating for inoculation programs which prioritize imprisoned people, has led to wide disparities in inmate vaccination rates state -to-state. In Kansas on March 17, nearly half of state prison inmates had received at least one dose, and officials there expected to have almost complete coverage with at least a first dose by mid-April. As of the same day in Florida, however, no inmates had received a dose, despite the fact that nearly a quarter of Florida’s inmates at some point contracted COVID-19. In response,      Gov. Ron DeSantis stated, “there’s no way you’re going to get some prisoner a vaccine over a senior citizen.” The sentiment that prisoners should be deprioritized for the rollout can be seen elsewhere, in Colorado, where a plan for state prisoners to be granted vaccination priority was scrapped after complaints, and in Oregon, where there was widespread public complaint about inmates being included in early stage plans (although notably the state was later given a court mandate to inoculate its prisoners). Although Missouri placed correctional staff members in phase 1B, prisoners remain in Phase 3 of the Missouri COVID-19 vaccination plan, wherein it is stated that “local public health authorities and state health authority will target vaccination efforts toward the most vulnerable populations, such as homeless populations… and local incarcerated individuals.” 

The idea that the pandemic has shed light on systemic issues is one that’s oft repeated by politicians and news media alike. The question now is what we’ll do with our awareness of the injustices facing so many Americans. It would be naive to assume that this is the last pandemic we’re going to face, and irresponsible to ignore the already glaringly substandard conditions of the carceral system. While it’s promising that so many states have chosen to prioritize the inoculation of detainees, the fact remains that many others haven’t. The recent public pushback against governments who opted to do so is also disheartening. It is important to remember that prisons aren’t a closed system-staff leave at the end of their workday and inmates get released. Ensuring disease doesn’t run rampant through jails, prisons, and detention facilities is a serious public health consideration that’s in the interest of everyone, incarcerated or not. The truth is, even if detainment facilities were completely isolated from the general population, we should still be taking greater steps to ensure the safety of our fellow human beings. The purpose of detainment is, ostensibly, to rehabilitate people-not put them in danger.