The Perpetuation of Abuse in the Prison Industrial Complex
Incarcerated survivors share their stories of rape, assault, and power abuse by partners and guards.
Domestic abuse survivors are often faced with the harsh reality of several choices: continue to stay with their abuser for fear of their lives and sometimes their children’s lives; continue to experience financial, emotional or physical coercion; or attempt to leave their abuser. Leaving one’s abuser is a complex process that has led to an increase in incarcerated survivors. It becomes especially complex when children are involved, as it is no longer about the survivors themselves, but their minor children, as well.
Women who are living in violent environments at home and who attempt to leave their abuser, may have to engage in acts of self-defense, for which they become criminalized and incarcerated. Women are far too often devalued or are seen as not being brave enough to leave their abusers, until their circumstances provoke a situation in which they have to resort to violence in a self-defensive manner. In the instances of violence against women from male perpetrators, it seems to be the norm that the surviving women are convicted for the actions of their abusers. The abuser had used violence countless times before their victim felt the need to do the same. Why are these abusers not being punished appropriately for their crimes? And why are female survivors being criminalized where they needed to protect themselves and perhaps even their children? Women are increasingly being incarcerated for domestic abuse related “crimes,” which usually consist of attempts to leave that go wrong and turn violent. And where a child is tragically hurt or killed, prosecutors may rely upon Failure to Protect claims, which almost exclusively target those who are female, and claim that the mother failed to remove her child from the harm of her abuser. As a result, they charge the mother with criminal child neglect or abuse. This is exactly the case with Shantonio Hunter, pictured above, who is a survivor of domestic violence, and has been charged with felony murder, aggravated child abuse, and child neglect.
Angela Davis, an educator and activist for social issues and prison abolition, makes the argument that looking at “crime and punishment” as one, makes it hard to separate the two and look at them through different lenses — ones that are more appropriate to the individual circumstances. I think that our society sees prison for men as a means to rehabilitate them and eventually place them back out in society, but for women, it is just to separate them from other women who haven’t committed social ‘ills’ or ‘wrongs.’
Davis notes that prisons are a source of profit for states and governments. When people are incarcerated, their identities and individual qualities get taken away from them — they are given prison identification numbers, their mail is opened before incarcerated peoples can read it, and their power is completely stripped away from them. Tying this back into domestic violence, when one is in an abusive situation, they are often stripped of their individuality and power, and are made by their abuser to feel as small as they possibly can be, so that the survivor will not want to fight back, defend themselves, or stand up and potentially leave. Statistics from a 2012 study show that “86% of women in jail have experienced sexual violence in their lifetimes, and that 53% have “lifetime” post-traumatic stress disorder.”
One quote from Davis’ book, “Frontline Feminisms: Women, War, and Resistance,” that particularly resonates with me, is “Ironically, as “private” sexual and physical assaults against women are increasingly constructed as “crimes” and, therefore, subject to “public” sanctions, the “public” imprisonment of women remains as hidden as ever.” I interpreted this quote as a bit of a paradox. Abusers are now being prosecuted for sexual and physical crimes that occur in the home (or private sphere) and are having to face the consequences of their abuse towards their partner. However, women might leave one trauma-filled environment, only to enter another such environment — the prison industrial complex. This is where the imprisonment of women remains “as hidden as ever.” While these women may be in a public institution, there is a blatant disregard for and neglect of women who are being punished in prison — particularly those who are incarcerated survivors. IPV or intimate partner violence, used to be considered a private matter, and one that would occur in and be dealt with in the home, not through public means of punishment, such as incarceration.
When survivors of domestic abuse become victims of the prison industrial complex, the cycle of violence and abuse of power is being perpetuated. Domestic violence movements and women’s prison movements have, for the most part, remained separate. However, in order to understand the complex relationship between domestic abuse and incarcerated survivors, one needs to look at how the two are related. As I mentioned earlier, survivors of domestic abuse and IPV are being criminalized for taking necessary actions to ensure their safety and that of their family.
Incarcerated people and the conditions that guards create, promote a “highly sexualized and excessively hostile” environment, which prison already is for women. When you have those in power abusing their power, with these incarcerated women having absolutely nowhere to escape to, this perpetuates the cycle of abuse that women were already experiencing outside of the prison. Such forms of abuse include guard abuse, sexual assault, and male officers using their positions of power to withhold things from incarcerated women — taking away privileges such as phone calls, visitation, and personal belongings. According to the state’s attorney general in Lackawanna County, PA during a press conference addressing the arrest of seven current and former correction officers for sexually abusing women inmates at a prison in Scranton, “This was not one rogue prison guard. They took advantage of them for their own sick gratification. They are threatened to make these inmates’ lives worse if they told anyone about the abuse.”
Michele Infante, who was incarcerated for nearly six months in a California prison, recalls a traumatizing experience of when a guard raped her. She stated, “I just remember crying. I didn’t get a shower for a couple of days, so I just felt so dirty and filthy. I just felt so alone and isolated… and like I deserved it somehow.” According to several federal laws, incarcerated people are unable to give consent to sexual advances or contact with employees; however, guards hold power over these women and there are often repercussions for speaking about their abuses. Accounts of assaults like Infante’s relate back to Davis’ notion of public imprisonment being hidden as ever. Sexual and physical abuses are surrounding incarcerated women under the supposedly watchful eye of a public institution. However, people either turn a blind eye to these abuses, don’t acknowledge that this type of abuse is happening, or are sometimes not aware that these abuses are happening. I believe that there is a social assumption that women are not being harmed while in prison, but are there to “learn from their mistakes,” and this is why public institutions are able to hide their abuses so well.
I strongly agree with Angela Davis that we need to abolish prisons, especially as a form of punishment for domestic violence survivors. I personally do not see the point in incarcerating women who had no choice but to protect themselves. Prison as a punishment for surviving abuse is the best example of a contradiction that I can think of. Either you survive and are punished, or are killed and forgotten about by the world. Neither of these options serve the best interests of the survivors.
