Mass incarceration is helping no one

America has consistently boasted the top spot in incarceration rates worldwide. We incarcerate 25% of the world’s prisoners even though we house just over 4% of the global population. The intention of the American prison system is to reduce crime and punish. However, I can say with full confidence that we are only succeeding at punishing. At least one in four people who go to jail will be arrested within the same year. Recidivism in the U.S. is at an all-time high, with 82% of prisoners going back to prison within 10 years of their release. This number is abhorrent, but it is also indicative of the uselessness of American prison systems.

I believe in second chances. I believe the best way to reduce crime is to help those who are incarcerated. More often than not, this means providing incarcerated people with an education. I understand this is a controversial take. Many people have issues with prisoners getting an education because they believe it’s their tax dollars paying for prison education programs. However, by providing incarcerated people with an education, taxpayers will save money. It costs $60,000 per year to house an inmate in prison. It costs $5,000 to give an inmate an education.

It is probable that once an inmate is released, they will come straight back to prison. However, inmates who have participated in a GED education program or who have taken a college course in prison are significantly less likely to return. For example, of the participants in the Bard Prison Initiative, just 2.5% of students return to prison. 

The literature is there. The only programs in prison that actually reduce recidivism are rehabilitative. Whether this is an education program, drug rehab or a vocational program, when inmates are given support during their sentence, they are less likely to reoffend. This understanding guided my next steps in exploring solutions firsthand. 

I could sit and tell you my opinions on how beneficial education and work programs are in reducing crime; however, I have never been to prison. So, I set out to speak with someone who has, and I landed at Dismas House, a halfway home in South Bend dedicated to helping formerly incarcerated people reenter society. My experience there provided personal insights into the realities behind the research.

As I’m sitting in the dining room of Dismas House, executive director Andee Huxhold gives me and my cohort a rundown of what Dismas House does. Behind her stands a kind-looking man, Jose Otero. Otero is quiet. He stands in the background waiting for his turn to speak. Eventually, Huxhold introduces him as the director of resident life at Dismas House. Otero explains his role within the community but then begins to tell us about his journey through the carceral system, bridging my research with lived experience. 

Otero was imprisoned for 10 years for a gang-related offense. He had been a gang member since he was young, but it finally caught up to him 12 years ago. 

My first question to him was what programs he wished he had seen in prison. Otero said that the worst thing about being in prison is how deeply isolating it is. He wished mental health services were more widely available to inmates. He said you don’t know anyone on the inside, but more importantly, your connections on the outside wane the longer you are in prison. Otero has a young daughter whom he lost contact with when he was imprisoned, and he said it took a significant toll on him. He wished he had more support on the inside because not only can inmates be cruel, but commanding officers too.

Otero proceeded to share instances he witnessed of people (including commanding officers) abusing or sexually assaulting inmates. The unfortunate reality of sexual assault in prisons is that it goes unreported. While there are laws in place like the Prison Rape Elimination Act, what are inmates meant to do when the perpetrator is an authority figure?

Otero spoke in detail about the trauma of prison. How it dehumanizes you. How it strips you down to one mistake you made. It was jarring to hear a formerly incarcerated man be so open about the toll prison took on his mental health. I couldn’t understand how he survived for 10 years in prison, so I asked him, “What did you do to stay grounded?” 

Otero was honest in his answer. It took him two years just to accept the fact that he was in prison. It took him two years to realize that prison would be his routine for the next eight years of his life. Otero then decided to make the most out of his situation and join an audio engineering program. Otero mentioned that prisoners tended to favor trade programs to maximize their time in prison. Rather than just getting an education and having to struggle to find a job after prison, Otero thought it would be more beneficial to learn a trade and get work experience within prison. Otero mentioned several times that his trade saved him from falling into further gang activity. Audio engineering gave him a creative outlet. It gave him something to change up the monotonous routine of prison. Now, at Dismas House, Otero helps with their “The Dismas Way” podcast.

Visiting Dismas House allowed me to get proximate to an issue very close to my heart. Throughout high school I spent several years researching prison. However, I was never able to get in contact with a formerly incarcerated individual. As Notre Dame students, some of us try to deny that South Bend is embedded in our identity. The University carved its own special zip code into the geography of Indiana, but that cannot erase all South Bend has given the University and all we have taken from South Bend.

I encourage everyone reading this to get proximate to their passion within the South Bend community. I promise there is something for you in this great city. There is a community worth serving in our backyard, and we are failing as Notre Dame students if we do not capitalize on these connections waiting to be made. Dimas House offers family-style meals every Monday through Thursday at 6:30 p.m. Don’t just think about making a difference, show up, share a meal and become part of the change South Bend needs.