Jerry Flores

Clemency for Cyntoia Brown was long overdue: �山ǿ�� expert

Christopher.Sorensen — Tue, 08 Jan 2019 14:45:16 +0000

Clemency for Cyntoia Brown was long overdue: �山ǿ�� expert

Christopher.Sorensen Tue, 01/08/2019 - 09:45

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This photo from May 2018 shows Cyntoia Brown at her clemency hearing at the Tennessee Prison for Women in Nashville, Tenn (photo by Lacy Atkins /The Tennessean via AP)

Jerry Flores

Topic

Global Lens

Global

Humanities

Sociology

The Conversation

�山ǿ�� Mississauga

United States

(Editor's note: This article has been updated. Read the original article published on �山ǿ�� News here.)

Cyntoia Brown will be released from prison in August – a surprising and welcome development in the case of a teenager who was convicted of killing a man when she was just 16 and forced into sex work.

In announcing his decision to grant clemency in the high-profile case, Tennessee Governor Bill Haslam said a recent ruling by the state’s Supreme Court that Brown must serve 51 years in prison before being eligible for parole was “too harsh, especially in light of the extraordinary steps Ms. Brown has taken to rebuild her life.”

News stories and social media have widely reported and shared Brown’s plight. Many compared her harsh sentence to lesser ones for white juveniles since the state of Tennessee first tried her case more than 10 years ago.

In 2004, Johnny Allen, 43, solicited sex in exchange for money from Brown, who was 16 at the time. Brown argued that she feared for her life and thought Allen was going to shoot her, so she shot and killed him in self-defence, according to court records. Despite these details, the state of Tennessee still tried her as an adult and convicted her of first-degree murder.

There was so much wrong about this story, which highlights the treatment of young, poor girls and women living in unstable situations. Many of these youth are regularly exposed to drugs, violence and multiple forms of trauma.

A 2011 PBS documentary about Brown’s life and trial revealed the challenges Brown faced in her young life. The documentary showed Brown, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, hair pulled into ponytails, waiting to hear from a judge to see if she would be tried as a juvenile or adult.

Her mother was raped at age 16 by an older man and she was given up for adoption. Her adoptive father routinely inflicted physical abuse on her. At 15, she ran away and met a 23-year-old drug dealer, “Kut Throat,” who raped her and forced her into sex work.

After a disagreement with him, she left and went to a local burger place. That is where she met Allen, who asked if she was looking for “action” – meaning was she selling sex? After bartering, they agreed on $150 for the “exchange.” They went to his home, ate, had sex and remained in his bed. Allen boasted about being a former soldier and said he had multiple guns in his home. He grabbed Brown and rolled over. She feared for her life, grabbed a gun and shot him.

Cyntoia Brown reacts during her hearing in Nashville, Tenn. in 2012. (Photo by Jae S. Lee/The Tennessean via AP )

Brown’s sentence seemed even harsher in light of the fact that the United States Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional to give juveniles mandatory life sentences without parole. According to the Tennessee Supreme Court, Brown’s sentence fell within the parameters of the constitution because she would have been eligible for parole once she turns 67.

But thanks to the governor’s decision on clemency, she will be released from prison to supervised parole on Aug. 7 after serving 15 years.

A cycle of incarceration

Brown’s story mirrors other marginalized young women of colour living in the United States. I have conducted fieldwork with 50 incarcerated Latinas, age 12-19, in Southern California and wrote a book about their lives: Caught Up: Girls, Surveillance and Wraparound Incarceration.

The girls I spoke with often experienced abuse in their homes. They ran away to escape the abuse. They spoke about being left no choice but to engage in high-risk behaviour, including shoplifting, hitchhiking or soliciting. They were vulnerable prey for older predators who began “relationships” with them, exchanging sex for access to clothes, food and shelter. Many like the ones I spoke with end up behind bars.

Tragically, the experience of marginalized girls in the U.S. and Canada are eerily similar. The tragic stories of Cyntoia Brown and Tina Fontaine, a young Indigenous girl whose body was found in Manitoba's Red River on Aug. 17, 2014, have parallel issues despite the roughly 2,000 kilometres between Nashville and Winnipeg where they lived.

A recent study by the Vera Institute found that approximately 66 per cent of incarcerated women in the U.S. are women of colour – and 86 per cent of them have experienced sexual violence, often at the hands of an intimate partner or caretaker. Additionally, 79 per cent of these women care for children. Almost all incarcerated women included in the Vera Institute study lived in poverty.

These findings are confirmed by other classic and contemporary research done with incarcerated women. What is staggering is that 82 per cent of women are incarcerated for non-violent offenses like shoplifting or using drugs.

In short, inequality, a lack of essential services and supports geared toward women help contribute to tragedy for so many poor, young women.

Ironically, when girls fight back against abuse they are often punished by authorities or others in power. If they run away and are caught by the police they are arrested, incarcerated or often returned to the very home where they experienced abuse. If they fight back against the abuse of friends, family or boyfriends they often face more mistreatment or end up behind bars.

Once incarcerated, they face a slew of interpersonal and institutional forms of abuse. For example, research shows that once young women are incarcerated they face multiple forms of violence behind bars. This includes having to fight other incarcerated individuals, experiencing violence at the hands of guards and being obligated to endure degrading strip searches. Additionally, there have been historical patterns of corrections officers sexually abusing incarcerated women.

This puts young women in a difficult position and sheds light on the immense gap in services needed. Research indicates that access to dependable and free transportation to shelters, and other supports, including outreach workers to make connections with them, are integral to young women leading healthy and productive lives.

Researchers, politicians and leaders need to address the root issues that put poor, young women in jail. These issues include rising poverty, abuse in the home, a lack of social services, inadequate education and the fact that many youth in the wealthiest countries like the U.S. and Canada still do not have access to three meals a day, a safe home, clean water and reliable transportation.

As others have accurately pointed out on social media, white men and women who commit crimes in the U.S. are given lighter sentences compared to people of colour. Jeffrey Epstein, a 54-year-old accused of trafficking underage girls, received a 13-month prison term. Brock Turner raped an unconscious woman and was sentenced to six months in jail. Teen Ethan Couch ran over and killed four people and injured several others while driving drunk and received no jail time.

Tennessee law has changed because of Brown’s case. That means minors can no longer be sentenced to life in prison. But that law did not apply to Brown.

Brown’s case attracted significant public support. The #FreeCyntoiaBrown campaign circulated widely on social media and there were plans to highlight Brown’s case along with other survivors during the annual Women’s March on Washington on Jan. 19. Coincidentally, that’s also the last day of Haslam’s term as governor.

Granting clemency for Cyntoia Brown was the right thing to do. But there are still other women incarcerated under similar conditions. It’s time we stop punishing young women for defending themselves and address the real issues that lead young women into precarious situations.

Jerry Flores is an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Toronto Mississauga.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read both versions of the original article.

�山ǿ�� expert on the case of Cyntoia Brown: This U.S. woman needs support, not 51 years in prison

noreen.rasbach — Fri, 14 Dec 2018 15:13:41 +0000

�山ǿ�� expert on the case of Cyntoia Brown: This U.S. woman needs support, not 51 years in prison

noreen.rasbach Fri, 12/14/2018 - 10:13

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The Tennessee Supreme Court sentenced Cyntoia Brown (centre) to 51 years in prison for shooting and killing Johnny Allen in 2004. This photo was taken at her clemency hearing on May 23 (photo by Lacy Atkins/The Tennessean via AP)

Topic

Research & Innovation

Sociology

�山ǿ�� Mississauga

United States

The Tennessee Supreme Court recently confirmed that Cyntoia Brown must serve 51 years in prison for shooting and killing a man in 2004 when she was just 16.

News stories and social media have widely reported and shared Brown’s story. Many have compared her harsh sentence to lesser ones for white juveniles since the state of Tennessee first tried her case more than 10 years ago. The decision this week was the result of an appeal to her original sentence, submitted because it is now unconstitutional to sentence juveniles to life in prison.

Johnny Allen, 43, solicited sex in exchange for money from Brown, who was 16 at the time. Brown argues that she feared for her life and thought Allen was going to shoot her, so she shot and killed him in self-defence, according to court records. Despite these details, the state of Tennessee still tried her as an adult and convicted her of first-degree murder.

There is so much wrong about this story, which underlies the treatment of young, poor girls and women living in unstable situations. Many of these youth are regularly exposed to drugs, violence and multiple forms of trauma.

A 2011 PBS documentary about Brown’s life and trial revealed the challenges she faced in her young life. The documentary shows Brown, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, hair pulled into ponytails, waiting to hear from a judge to see if she would be tried as a juvenile or adult.

Cyntoia Brown reacts during her hearing in Nashville in 2012 (photo by Jae S. Lee/The Tennessean via AP)

The recent ruling seems even harsher in light of the fact that the United States Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional to give juveniles mandatory life sentences without parole. According to the Tennessee Supreme Court, Brown’s sentence falls within the parameters of the constitution because she is eligible for parole once she turns 67.

A cycle of incarceration

The girls and women I spoke with often experienced abuse in their homes. They ran away to escape the abuse. They spoke about being left no choice but to engage in high-risk behaviour, including shoplifting, hitchhiking or soliciting. They were vulnerable prey for older predators who began “relationships” with them, exchanging sex for access to clothes, food and shelter. Many like the ones I spoke with end up behind bars.

Tragically, the experience of marginalized girls in the U.S. and Canada are eerily similar. The tragic stories of Cyntoia Brown and Tina Fontaine, a young Indigenous girl whose body was found in the Red River on Aug. 17, 2014, have parallel issues despite the roughly 2,000 kilometres between Nashville and Winnipeg where they lived.

A recent study by the Vera Institute found that approximately 66 per cent of incarcerated women in the United States are women of colour – and 86 per cent of them have experienced sexual violence, often at the hands of an intimate partner or caretaker. Additionally, 79 per cent of these women care for children. Almost all incarcerated women included in the Vera Institute study lived in poverty.

In short, inequality, a lack of essential services and supports geared toward women help contribute to tragedy for so many poor, young women.

Ironically, when girls fight back against abuse they are often punished by authorities or others in power. If they run away and are caught by the police, they are arrested, incarcerated or often returned to the very home where they experienced abuse. If they fight back against the abuse of friends, family or boyfriends, they often face more mistreatment or end up behind bars.

Once incarcerated, they face a slew of interpersonal and institutional forms of abuse. For example, research shows that once young women are incarcerated they face multiple forms of violence behind bars. This includes having to fight other incarcerated individuals, experiencing violence at the hands of guards and being obligated to endure degrading strip searches. Additionally, there has been historical patterns of corrections officers sexually abusing incarcerated women.

Researchers, politicians and leaders need to address the root issues that hurt poor, young women in jail. These issues include increasing poverty, abuse in the home, a lack of social services, inadequate education and the fact that many youth in the wealthiest countries like the U.S. and Canada still do not have access to three meals a day, a safe home, clean water and reliable transportation.

As others have accurately pointed out on social media this week, white men and women who commit crimes in the U.S. are given lighter sentences compared to people of colour. Jeffrey Epstein, a 54-year-old accused of trafficking underage girls, received a 13-month prison term. Brock Turner raped an unconscious woman and was sentenced to six months in jail. Teen Ethan Couch ran over and killed four people and injured several others while driving drunk and received no jail time.

In contrast, Brown’s life is effectively ruined. Tennessee law has since changed, prompted by Brown’s case. That means minors can no longer be sentenced to life in prison. But that law does not apply to Brown, who must wait until she is 67 before she can go before a parole board.

While her future seems bleak, Brown continues to receive public support. The #FreeCyntoiaBrown campaign circulates on social media and the Women’s March is planning an event on Jan. 19 to show support for Brown and other survivors. The event is supposed to put pressure on outgoing Tennessee Gov. Bill Haslam who can grant her clemency with a shorter sentence.

It is time we stop punishing young women for defending themselves and address the real issues that lead young women into precarious situations.

Jerry Flores is an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Toronto Mississauga.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The migrant caravan: �山ǿ�� expert on why it exists and how it came to be

noreen.rasbach — Wed, 31 Oct 2018 12:26:00 +0000

The migrant caravan: �山ǿ�� expert on why it exists and how it came to be

noreen.rasbach Wed, 10/31/2018 - 08:26

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A new group of Central American migrants walk past Mexican Federal Police after wading across the Suchiate River, which connects Guatemala and Mexico, in Tecun Uman, Guatemala, on Oct. 29 (photo by Santiago Billy/AP)

Topic

On Oct. 19, thousands of Central American migrants tried to cross the bridge between Guatemala and Mexico, seeking safety up north. News outlets broadcast the painful moans of people being crushed one against the other and the screams of children. We saw the desperate looks of mothers as authorities in Mexico tried to push back the crowd with batons and pepper spray. The following day they were permitted to cross over.

The caravan of 7,000, mostly from Guatemala and Honduras, is heading for the United States.

Once news of the caravan was presented to U.S. President Donald Trump, he said the flow of people contained “dangerous criminals,” and he pressured the Mexican government to stop the “invasion.”

Trump threatened to cut humanitarian aid to Central American countries. He also announced he was sending more than 5,000 troops to the U.S.-Mexico border. As the caravan began to receive more attention, people asked: “Why are these people coming to the U.S.?”

Necessity obliges us to leave

The answer is complex. “Una necesidad nos obliga,” a 20-year-old man told the Washington Post. Necessity obliges us to leave.

As a professor, sociologist and father whose own family once crossed the border of Mexico for a better life in the U.S., I reflected on this. Poverty and violence are the main factors driving the caravan. The proliferation of gangs, narcotics trafficking, corruption and impunity are all endemic problems in Honduras and Guatemala.

Honduras is one of the world’s deadliest places that isn’t a war zone. Droughts and floods have also had devastating consequences on agricultural economies. These people are travelling in a caravan for their own protection, to avoid having to pay a smuggler and to minimize the risk of crime.

A deadly history of U.S. involvement

But the roots of their plight are connected to larger issues and hemispheric politics played out over decades. Rage and threats will not make the caravan go away, as noted in a recent report by research and advocacy group, the Washington Office on Latin America (WOLA).

Governments cannot prevent citizens from leaving their own countries.

Guatemala provides a great case for how U.S. involvement has contributed to political instability and economic inequality in Central America. The country of 17 million, many of whom are of Indigenous descent, elected their second democratically chosen president in 1951. President Jacobo Árbenz passed a series of populist polices that included land redistribution and expanding access to education for the neediest people in Guatemala.

This angered U.S.-owned companies like the United Fruit Company. In 1954 the U.S. CIA orchestrated a coup and installed a series of military dictators who enforced a crackdown against all government opposition.

This crackdown included dropping napalm on Indigenous villages thought to contain guerrilla fighters. Additionally, military soldiers were ordered to “desaparecer” or “disappear” anyone suspected of opposing the government.

About 200,000 people, mostly Indigenous, were killed in the country. These issues continue to reverberate today as the political class colludes with and protects criminal groups.

Honduras also has a long history of U.S. involvement, both economic and military. The U.S. presence began in the late 1890s, when U.S.-based banana companies first became active there. The U.S. military intervened in 1907 and 1911 to protect U.S. interests and further cement the ruling class’ dependency on Washington.

Honduras has undergone political turmoil since a 2009 military coup against populist president Manuel Zelaya. The U.S. froze aid but it was restored shortly thereafter. Similarly in the 2018 election, the results were contested and the country was once again plunged into a political crisis. At least 30 were killed, most of them opponents of U.S.-backed President Juan Orlando Hernández, who was accused of rigging the vote.

Migrants deserve a fair chance

The caravan of desperate and hungry migrants from Central America did not create itself. It was created by meddling governments and indifferent neighbours.

While about 1,600 migrants have made official asylum claims in Mexico, many are continuing their journey north and Mexican authorities have not tried to stop the caravan.

Guatemalan migrant Ernesto Cayax, 27, feeds his 25-day-old baby daughter Reychel, as he takes a break from walking with his wife Jahana Estrada, 23, and their three children, on the roadside outside Tapanatepec, Mexico, before dawn on Oct. 29. The family joined up seven days ago with a thousands-strong caravan of Central Americans trying to reach the U.S. border, roughly 1,600 kilometres away (photo by Rebecca Blackwell/AP)

In a video message posted to social media President Enrique Peña Nieto announced a plan called “Estas en tu Casa” (You are at home). The government offered shelter, medical attention, schooling and jobs to the migrants on the condition they seek asylum with the National Immigration Institute and remain in the southern states of Oaxaca and Chiapas.

However, it is unsurprising that Central Americans do not trust their chances for a fair asylum process in Mexico, a country with a high homicide rate and a history of discrimination against migrants. Just a few days ago a photo was published on social media of a group of racist skinheads in Mexico City leading an anti-Central American caravan campaign.

We need to address the key factors that allowed this caravan to exist. We need to prevent powerful governments from meddling in the affairs of other nations. And we need to sanction those who do. These migrants deserve a fair hearing, a chance to ask for protection in the U.S. and a timely and fair resolution of their claims. And we need to stop state-sponsored violence.

Jerry Flores is an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Toronto Mississauga.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Drugging detained children is like using a chemical straitjacket

noreen.rasbach — Thu, 20 Sep 2018 16:11:05 +0000

Drugging detained children is like using a chemical straitjacket

noreen.rasbach Thu, 09/20/2018 - 12:11

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Sirley Silveira Paixao, an immigrant from Brazil seeking asylum, kisses her 10-year-old son Diego Magalhaes, after he is released from immigration detention in Chicago on July 5 (Charles Rex Arb/AP)

Topic

There are almost 13,000 detained migrant children in the United States, according to several recent news reports. This number has increased six-fold since 2017, despite the successful reunification of some families.

You might remember the horrifying images of children inside chain-link fences with flimsy aluminum foil blankets from earlier this summer. Digital media and cable news broadcast close-ups of these children’s faces, tears streaming down their cheeks; these same images were then shared millions of times on social media.

While the number of children detained in this way is shocking, the mistreatment that many face after being forcibly removed from their families is even worse. One of the least visible and most potent forms of abuse is the use of medication to forcibly sedate them.

‘Pharmaceutical violence’

As researchers who investigate incarceration and mental health, we have studied the patterns of psychotropic medication use in prisons and detention centres in the U.S. to control the behaviours of youth.

Preliminary findings from this research show the negative effects of coerced medication, or what we describe as “pharmaceutical violence.”

Recently, U.S. District Judge Dolly Gee ruled that the government broke the law when officials in Texas sedated children who had been separated from their migrant parents. We applaud her recent ruling even as we remain concerned about the recurrence of such a practice.

We are also concerned about the fate of the approximately 13,000 migrant children who have not yet been reunited with their parents, especially as the Trump administration works to replace the Flores settlement which limits the length of time children can be detained.

A chemical straitjacket

While the Trump administration’s forced separation immigration policies have since been suspended, and some of the children returned to their families, the long-lasting impacts of such treatment remain troubling.

Gee’s recent decision mandates that the government must obtain consent or a court order in order to administer psychotropic medications to children, barring an emergency. She also ruled that officials must tell children in writing why they are in a secure facility.

Migrant children walk in a line outside the Homestead Temporary Shelter for Unaccompanied Children, a former Job Corps site that housed them on June 20, in Homestead, Fla. (photo by Brynn Anderson/AP)

Her ruling was in response to a lawsuit launched by the Centre for Human Rights and Constitutional Law. According to the lawsuit, the medications serve as a “chemical straitjacket.” In other words, officials were sedating children who had no existing psychological conditions.

According to several reports, children at Shiloh Treatment Facility in Texas have been given up to 15 different pills a day. Those who refused were threatened with further time in confinement. Moreover, children in other locations who complained about missing their parents, begged to leave or who staff deemed to be a “problem,” were sent to Shiloh to be medicated.

Detention drugs lead to street drugs

Sadly, we’ve seen this dynamic in the past. Detention centres are infamous for overly medicating incarcerated individuals in order to obtain their co-operation.

Ethnographic studies of American prisons, from the 1940s up until the present day, reveal the misuse of medications by detention staff as a common problem.

In a milestone case, Walter Harper sued the Washington State government arguing that they could not medicate him without his consent. This led to the Washington v Harper Supreme Court ruling in 1990 that allows detention centres to medicate incarcerated individuals.

While conducting fieldwork with incarcerated young women in southern California recently, we discovered a similar pattern. Officials in detention centres were dosing women in their care.

These young women were diagnosed with mental health disorders and compelled to take drugs while in detention. They became chemically dependent. Upon leaving prison, they were barred from access to the medications they had in custody, leading them to take street drugs, drink and engage in other high-risk behaviours.

Most young women reported feelings that prison staff prescribed psychotropic medication to regulate their actions, behaviours and personal freedom. In other words, these detainees, many of whom were Latina, were fitted with the same “chemical straitjackets” used on migrant children today.

Medication of detained children must stop

It is imperative to limit the detention of migrants and to immediately end the use of psychotropic medications on children.

Furthermore, qualified medical staff must be present in centres where children are housed.

Detention centres, funded by tax dollars, must be open to public scrutiny. As the public continues to bear witness to new images of imprisoned children, people should examine the misuse of medical technology that confines not only the bodies but the minds of those made to inhabit these places.

Additionally, we need to stop incarcerating children.

Jerry Flores is an assistant professor of sociology at �山ǿ�� Mississauga. Kati Barahona-Lopez is a PhD candidate in sociology at University of California, Santa Cruz.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons licence. Read the original article, including their disclosure statements.