Quarantine Diaries: why your home is not a prison
What does this time mean for those already in isolation?
As I was choosing a virtual background for my Zoom call and trying to figure out my sound settings for my first online class, it finally dawned on me that we are living in surreal times. It is unprecedented to imagine millions of people around the world locked down in their homes. But what does this time mean for people already in isolation?
The current pandemic has reminded us that in times of crisis, vulnerable populations are hit the hardest. For example, there are eight million undocumented workers in the US that don’t have access to the bailout measures recently passed, and nearly 30 million people in the US don’t have access to any form of health insurance. At a global level, Nepal has a total of 500 ICU beds to serve the entire country and 75% of people in the least developed countries lack access to soap and water.
And yet, amidst it all, there are also signs of solidarity, mutual aid circles, gratefulness for doctors, music on rooftops, and plenty of memes. Among the myriad of funny memes, some have compared their stay at home orders to being in prison, and this narrative is extremely troubling.
I’ve volunteered in prisons or detention centres in every city I’ve called home for the past decade. I’ve worked with detained immigrants in Seattle, attended legal aid clinics in a women’s prison in Colombia, and facilitated restorative justice workshops in California. Quarantine and self-isolation are nothing like prison.
Prisoners don’t have access to the internet, can’t Facetime with their loved ones, nor do they scroll through their social media feeds, read the news, or play online games with friends. They are not working from home and juggling with kids out of school and their isolation is longer than a couple of weeks.
Inmates are not allowed to order take out, experiment with bread, or choose what they eat. The vegetable option in a men’s prison in California is a whole, raw onion. They are not in prison to prevent the spread of disease nor are they there for a couple of months.
To shed some light on the actual situation in prisons, we can let numbers speak for themselves. Many prisons have severe problems with overcrowding, unsanitary conditions, rape, violence, and serious violations of human rights.
125 countries report prison occupancy levels above 100% and for the Philippines, Haiti, Bolivia, Guatemala and Uganda, the figure is above 300%. This means that there are more than 300 prisoners in a space designed to serve 100. Tuberculosis in European prisons has a rate 81 times higher than the general population.
It is common to turn a blind eye to these conditions thinking those who commit crimes “deserve” it, but basic rights are for all under the law, and no life is more deserving than another. By the looks of it, COVID will reach all world countries and prisons won’t be exempt. The question is how are we, as a global civil society, going to react when this happens?
It is common to turn a blind eye to these conditions thinking those who commit crimes “deserve” it, but basic rights are for all under the law
How can we maintain social distancing in places already overcrowded? Some systems have begun to release prisoners that have not been convicted, don’t pose a security threat, or are a part of a high-risk group. Although that is an important measure to decongest the prisons (and in some cases long overdue), there is still so much unclarity on what will happen to the prisoners once they are released. To leave them out with no support in a time of uncertainty and crisis is irresponsible.
All in all, few of us will come out of this period unscathed. Yet, it is our responsibility to take care of each other during this time and to keep in mind those who have been historically underserved.
“Look around the room you are in. What do you see? I bet all kinds of welcoming things that speak of safety and comfort” writes an incarcerated man on The Marshall Project, “Things like a favorite chair, or painting, or maybe some family heirloom that’s been passed down from an elderly loved one. Take comfort in these things. They are important. I know, because as the years drag on for me here behind bars, those are the things I pine for the most. The things I most look forward to seeing when I finally go home, whatever the world may be like when I get there.”
it is our responsibility to take care of each other during this time and to keep in mind those that have been historically underserved
Despite the differences between those in prison and those in quarantine, we share a common humanity and core experiences: we love, we dream, we fear, we grieve. We celebrate the small victories, we rejoice with loved ones and peers, we cheer on for our teams, and we mourn our losses. So before we unleash the prison/quarantine memes, it’s best to remember that many prisons, detention centers, jails, etc. were already in crisis before COVID hit.
Most of the planet simply needs to stay home and cope. Our coping mechanisms should be reflective of our actual circumstances, and be mindful of our language to avoid perpetuating narratives that foster inequality.
