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Title: Not Helpless Victims
Author: Victoria Law
Date: Spring, 2012
Language: en
Topics: Fifth Estate, Fifth Estate #386, prison, prisoners, women
Source: FIFTH ESTATE #386, Spring, 2012, Vol. 47, No. 1, page 19

Victoria Law

Not Helpless Victims

In July 2011, women at California’s Valley State Prison launched a

hunger strike in solidarity with prisoners on a four-week hunger strike

at Pelican Bay State Prison and also to protest their own Secure Housing

Unit (an extreme solitary confinement unit).

Upon hearing about the hunger strike, a woman incarcerated in another

state, and who had been in solitary confinement for 942 days, launched a

one-day hunger strike, stating, “I’ll refuse my trays tomorrow in

solidarity with long-term solitary confinement hostages everywhere and

for the girls held in the outer buildings that don’t have

air-conditioning or enough electrical sockets to plug in their personal

fans and are stuck in rooms with 4” x 12” windows that provide no air.

It’s a heat index of 110 degrees today.”

Women prisoners have always resisted. In 1835, New York State opened its

first prison for women. The environment was so terrible that the women

rioted, attacking and tearing the clothes off the prison matron and

physically chasing away other officials with wooden food tubs. When

imprisoned in male penitentiaries and work camps, women often refused to

obey the rules. When states began housing them in separate facilities in

the 1800s, they protested substandard conditions, sometimes violently,

as the New York prison officials learned.

Women’s actions, however, are often overlooked by prisoner rights

activists and advocates, leading to both the mistaken belief that women

do not organize and to a lack of outside attention and support for their

actions.

The number of women in federal and state prisons has increased

twenty-fold in the last 40 years, from 5,600 in 1970 to 114,979 by the

mid-2009. What caused this explosion in women’s incarceration?

From President Lyndon B. Johnson’s 1965 “War on Crime,” to numerous

state “Three Strikes” laws mandating life in prison without the

possibility of parole for a third conviction, to Ronald Reagan launching

the current “War on Drugs,” expanding both policing and imprisonment,

prison populations began to swell. (It was not until 1985 that crack

began to rapidly spread through and destroy poor black urban

neighborhoods.)

In 1986, Congress passed the Anti-Drug Abuse Act with mandatory minimum

sentences for drug offenses. The legislation led to a huge expansion in

the number of people incarcerated for drug offenses, from 16,340 in 1986

to 58,260 by the end of 1994.

The act also allowed police and prosecutors to arrest and charge spouses

and partners with conspiracy if they took a phone message or signed for

a package. Lacking knowledge about drug transactions, spouses and

partners are unable to plea-bargain by trading information for a lesser

charge. Between 1986 and 1996, the number of women in federal prisons

for drug law violations increased 421 percent.

Women of color are disproportionately impacted by these policies. The

U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics show that one of every 100 Black

women, one of every 404 Latinas, and one of every 1,099 white women are

in prison. Racial profiling, not an increase in crime among people of

color, accounts for much of this overrepresentation.

Policing policies disproportionately target inner-city African-American

and Latino neighborhoods. Within the past decade, many police

departments have increased the use of stop-and-frisk tactics, in which

officers stop, question, and pat down those they perceive as acting

suspiciously, often people of color.

In addition, alternatives to incarceration are less likely to be offered

to people of color. A California study showed that two-thirds of drug

treatment slots went to whites despite the fact that 70 percent of

people with drug sentences were African-American.

Class is also a strong indicator of which women end up in prison. Only

40 percent of all incarcerated women were employed full time before

incarceration. Of those, most held low-paying jobs. A study of women

under supervision (prison, jail, parole, or probation) found that

two-thirds had never held a job that paid more than $6.50 per hour.

Approximately 30 percent had been receiving public assistance before

being arrested.

The 1996 so-called welfare reform disqualified those with drug felonies

and probation or parole violations. Between 1996 and 1999, more than

96,000 women were subject to the welfare ban because of past drug

convictions.

The use of prisons to control women is not new As late as the early

twentieth century, women were often arrested and imprisoned for defying

gender norms: being drunk, engaging in pre- and extra-marital sex,

contracting a venereal disease, or keeping “bad company.” In contrast,

men were neither arrested nor penalized for the same behaviors.

Women were often given longer, if not indeterminate, sentences than men

convicted of the same offense. In 1913, Pennsylvania passed the Muncy

Act, requiring that all women convicted of an offense punishable by more

than one year be given an indeterminate sentence.

Under this Act, women were also not eligible for parole as early as men.

In 1966, the state’s Superior Court ruled that the Act’s sentencing

disparity did not violate women’s constitutional rights, stating that

women and men’s “inherent physical and psychological differences

justified differential treatment. Therefore, it was deemed reasonable

for women to receive longer sentences, especially because they

supposedly received more effective rehabilitation while incarcerated.”

Once behind bars, women have protested and challenged their conditions.

In 1975, prisoners at the California Institution for Women, in Corona,

protested the cancellation of family holiday visits and holiday

packages. They gathered in the yard, broke windows, made noise and

burned Christmas trees in a “solidarity” bonfire.

“The important thing was that it was not especially political in its

roots — simply a classic example of a fed-up-population,” recalled Sin

Soracco, one of the riot’s many participants. “The result, however, was

very political: everyone had lots of time while we were locked down, in

between bitching about the one hardboiled egg a day, to consider the

idea of prison/punishment/conditions/rationale.”

Despite the lockdown, the women circulated a document on which everyone

wrote down their suggestions for demands. The document became the

women’s own Ten Points, demanding improved health care, food, education,

maternity care and family visits, as well as an end to the arbitrary

methods of penalizing women for infractions, the use of solitary

confinement, brutal sentencing, overcrowding, and staff sadism.

Women’s resistance is not always as visible as rioting. More than half

the women in state prisons and local jails report having been physically

and/or sexually abused while incarcerated. The Bureau of Justice

Statistics found that women were three times more likely than men to

have been physically or sexually abused prior to incarceration.

Prison environment, with its male guards, lack of privacy, physical and

verbal abuse, and fear, often perpetuates abuse. Despite these

circumstances, women have connected with and supported each other in

their efforts to overcome past trauma.

In the late 1980s, women serving life sentences in Marysville, Ohio,

formed a support group called Looking Inward for Excellence (LIFE).

Members realized that many had been,sentenced to life imprisonment for

killing their abusers. At a time when abuse and battering were not

widely recognized in either the courtrooms or outside society, they

began working around issues of domestic violence.

LIFE members reached out to other survivors, helping them overcome

denial and encouraging them to apply for clemency. Their efforts led to

18 additional women applying for clemency. In the end, 25 women were

granted clemency.

The actions of LIFE inspired women at the California Institution for

Women to organize a similar clemency drive. Members of Convicted Women

Against Abuse (CWAA), a prisoner-initiated support group for battered

women, wrote a letter to then-Governor Pete Wilson asking him to

consider commuting their sentences and inviting him to one of their

weekly meetings so he could understand how they had ended up in prison.

Wilson declined the invitation, but the letter drew the attention of

lawyers and advocates who helped the women draft arguments and gather

evidence for clemency petitions. The governor granted clemency to three,

denied it to seven, and made no decision on 24 of the petitions.

In both Ohio and California, battered women’s efforts not only

strengthened and expanded the clemency processes, but also raised public

awareness about abuse. Even those not granted clemency became empowered

to speak out about their experiences instead of continuing to live in

shame.

CWAA members continue to meet and share current news regarding domestic

violence, homicide cases, court rulings, and their own experiences with

the justice system. They discuss possible legal strategies, media

stories about women who fight back, and journalists with a focus on

domestic violence.

The advocates and lawyers who originally helped women with their

petitions formed the California Coalition for Battered Women in Prison

to continue organizing and educating the public. More than 15 years

later, the group, now part of the California Coalition for Women

Prisoners, continues to advocate for the release of women imprisoned for

self-defense. Within the past 12 years, the group has helped free 35

additional women.

Although the dramatic increase in women’s incarceration has led to

increased attention, many continue to believe that women do not resist

or organize. Remembering these past revolts not only counters the belief

that women passively accept injustice, but also opens the door to both

recognizing the less visible forms of resistance within women’s prisons

and working to support their struggles.

Incarcerated women and their advocates have suggestions on how activists

and organizers on the outside can support their resistance behind bars:

noted, “Visits, phone calls, and letter writing are essential. Only with

a firm foundation, a strong foundation, can we together be able to build

a greater movement.”

with issues that are considered “non-prison” issues.SEND LITERATURE AND

NEWS FROM THE OUTSIDE.

treatments! They also need outside people who are willing to provide

services not available (but much needed) within the prison.

look into setting up a women’s studies course or other program within a

women’s prison that helps articulate and challenge the dominant ways of

thinking and the power structure.

and leadership of currently and/or formerly incarcerated women.