COVID-19 has been tightening the already tight grip of the prison world for 22 months. Designed to keep inmates out, not to keep a pandemic out, prisons protect themselves as best they can from the pandemic — often at the expense of prisoners.
Nicolas experienced this when he entered Bordeaux prison in Montreal a year ago. Arrived in full hatch, he had to isolate himself for 14 days in his cell.
Nicolas then spent 23 hours a day in the same room. He was entitled to only one hour of daily outing and to a minimum of two showers per week – fragile achievements and sometimes impossible to respect, due to the lack of personnel.
“There is no one who will say that being locked up for 15 days is good for the mental health of a human being”, says Nicolas from his apartment in Montreal.
Now on parole, he intends to start a new life. He has a home, a job, a future to build — and bitter memories of his time in prison.
To prevent the spread of COVID-19, almost everything was inaccessible during the first months of his incarceration. Without a gym or school, without a library or books to feed his mind, Nicolas had nothing to do except brood over dark thoughts in the depths of his cell.
“We had nothing to ventilate everything we were going through,” recalls Nicolas. And no one to confide their feelings to either: since March 15, 2020, the families of detainees no longer have access to prisoners, except by telephone or videoconference, for 15 minutes once a week.
During an outbreak, it is also the social workers, who listen to, accompany and supervise the detainees, who lose their right to visit inside the walls.
Alone to prepare for the aftermath
As COVID-19 loves promiscuity, outbreaks are numerous in prisons. Of the 17 provincial prisons in Quebec, only that of Baie-Comeau has not reported any infected inmates since the start of the pandemic. However, all of them had to deal with infected employees.
“We are not able to provide, because we are asked to do the impossible,” explains Mathieu Lavoie, president of the Syndicat des agents de la paix en services correctionnels du Québec. “There are currently 400 vacant positions, to which must be added 350 long-term absences and 176 employees infected with the coronavirus. That’s not counting those who are in isolation. »
Currently, the virus is circulating among inmates at 12 institutions, with notable outbreaks in detention facilities in Montreal and Saint-Jérôme, which have 50 and 126 prisoners positive for COVID-19, respectively, as of January 20. In the Laurentides institution, the outbreak affected 35% of the prison population.
Every time COVID-19 comes inside, prisons close in on themselves. “At the beginning, I had access to meetings by telephone,” explains worker Steve Brouillard, who works for La Boussole, a YMCA program. which helps criminalized citizens in their job search or in a return to school. “Now no one has access to the detainees. They are in a cell, isolated. It goes through a lot in their head. »
Since the start of the pandemic, this social worker, who has worked in prison since 2006, has spent more time working from home than in prison.
All communication must now be done by speedy notes — notes that are badly named, in his opinion. “I have a participant who recently wrote to me, ‘Steve, I need your help to reintegrate into society.’ How do I do that, me, in writing? It will take two to three weeks before he receives my answer. It really limits what you can do. »
“70% of our work is to be there with them,” adds the director of La Boussole, Maryse Paré. People are happy to go out, but it puts them under enormous stress: we were there to support them and connect them with the community, with food banks, with resources that help them find housing. That’s all they lost. »
La Boussole supervised around 100 detainees at Bordeaux prison before an outbreak interrupted its provision of services in December. “These are people who have started the process, but who have not been able to complete them”, underlines Sauphie Fineus, another speaker from La Boussole. “We are the ones who will pick up the pieces afterwards, because we will go back and we will have to start from scratch. »
Mme Fineus cites as an example an inmate who must urgently provide information to enroll in a course. On the spot, she could have solved the problem in the space of a few hours. With the current obstacles, the delays are getting longer and the prisoner risks losing his place, for not having respected the deadline.
“A continuous fight”
“The speakers who come to see us make a difference,” assures Nicolas. When we are with them, we feel much more human. »
Nicolas had to go through a second quarantine during his stay in prison, after a fellow prisoner showed symptoms of COVID-19. Almost 30 days of cumulative isolation weigh heavily on the state of mind, according to him.
“Many people have thought about suicide. There are many people who have committed suicide, too, ”says the former prisoner. Eight prisoners took their own lives in provincial jails in 2019-20. Their number doubled the following year, according to figures from the Ministry of Public Security.
Now on parole, Nicolas finds that the pandemic is also complicating his reintegration.
He had managed to find a job he loved. The Omicron variant hit: his workplace, considered non-essential, had to close, and he had to find another job despite a criminal record, his release conditions and health restrictions.
“It was a prison fight,” he recalls. Coming out, it still continues to be a fight. »