The women also felt that, even when judged against the standards of
male institutions, the regime at Edmonton was unduly restrictive. The
women were not allowed to move outside of their cottages and the attached
patio except for the purposes of going to school, work, or for some institutionally-approved
purpose. For example, they could not in the evenings walk along the pathways
connecting the various cottages, either just to go for a walk or to spend
sometime with one of their friends. The designated time for association,
outside of work or school, was in the evening from 6:30 to 9:30 in the
recreation and games room where all of the women congregated together.
What this meant was that if a women was in crisis, or just wanted to talk
with someone outside of the cottage in which she is living, the only time
to do that was in the recreation room in the presence of all the other
women. None of the women could understand why there would be any problem
with allowing them to walk in small groups, or even by themselves, within
the compound along the paths connecting the cottages. Because there was
no inter-cottage visiting, this meant that they were limited in confiding
with each other to those with whom they lived, and that did not necessarily
correspond to their closest friendships or their support networks. This
restriction on private association they felt was far worse than what they
had experienced at the Prison for Women where they had far greater access
to each other. The paradox was that in the so-called open environment
of Edmonton they felt a greater degree of segregation from each other
than they did in the fortress of the Prison for Women.
Another part of the regime which the women resented was the half-hourly
checks that were made in every cottage by two officers. This involved
the officers coming into the house, checking who was there, and looking
into the individual bedrooms. The women said that they felt invaded by
this constant surveillance and physical presence of staff in what, under
the new philosophy of Creating Choices,
was supposed to be their homes. The issue of personal intrusion into the
women’s space was particularly acute in the case of the medium-security
women who were subjected to strip searches following their visits. This
was not based upon reasonable cause, but was a standard procedure which
was deeply resented by the women who had not experienced this at the Prison
for Women. One of the women said that being strip searched each time after
her common-law husband came to visit amounted to a level of violation
that she would never have believed she would experience at an institution
supposedly built upon the framework of Creating
Choices. The ‘choice’ it gave her for being appreciated as a woman
for the duration of the visit was to be immediately devalued as a prisoner
when she had to submit to the strip search thereafter. This was not just
limited to visits with friends and families. Edmonton Institution, as
part of its "partnership with the community," had introduced a mentoring
program in which volunteers come into the institution and worked one-on-one
with women to provide them with help and support in planning for their
return to the community. The mentor program was organized through a variety
of women’s organisations, including a women’s business group and a church
group. The mentors all received enhanced security clearance and therefore
there was no suggestion that, unlike friends and family, they might be
introducing drugs or other contraband into the institution. Yet, even
after the medium-security women have visited with their mentor, they were
subjected to strip searching. One of the women had given up her mentoring
relationship primarily because she was not prepared to undergo the indignity
of the strip search.
One of the major concerns of the women was that there was a degree of
arbitrariness in the operations of Edmonton, that had not characterised
the Prison for Women. They were not talking about the arbitrariness associated
with the segregation of the women involved in the incidents that had led
to the Arbour inquiry itself, but rather the day-to-day inconsistencies
they saw in the application of rules and policy. They lived in a constant
state of uncertainty that their actions, condoned by some staff, would
be condemned by others. There was also the arbitrariness in some of the
rules regarding what women could have in their houses. Earlier in the
morning, Task Force members had visited with several of the women in one
of their cottages and they had told us that they were not permitted to
have any glass utensils; all of their cups, mugs and containers were plastic.
The theory behind this was that glass could be used for self-mutilation
or as a weapon. However, as we sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee
out of plastic mugs, the women pointed out that the room was lit by the
glass light bulb shining down on the table; a light bulb that was as accessible
for self-mutilation as it was for illumination. They also pointed to the
array of steel kitchen knives in the rack beside the stove; these, were
the women so inclined, would make far more formidable weapons than any
glass container. In terms of security concerns, the restrictions made
no sense.
The women’s stories revealed a further and more pervasive restriction
on their institutional liberties that went beyond the limitation on their
association, freedom of movement, and what they viewed as arbitrary security
measures. All of the women felt they lived under an ultimatum both explicit
and implicit, that they should not speak out about any problems they experienced
at the institution to outsiders or the press. They had previously told
Kim Pate that they were reluctant to use the grievance process or even
to phone her for fear they would be labelled as troublemakers and shipped
to Saskatchewan Penitentiary as maximum-security prisoners. This had been
made quite clear to one of the women when she first came to Edmonton from
Saskatchewan Penitentiary. She was told, "You have two choices. You can
do as we tell you or you can go back to Prince Albert." The degree to
which the women’s’ freedom of expression had been chilled was revealed
when I requested that they write to me about their experiences. They immediately
expressed a concern that they were required to give their letters to staff,
unsealed. This was to enable the letters to be inspected for contraband,
but the women were quite convinced staff actually read the contents and
they were fearful that any letters that documented their concerns would
centre them out as troublemakers and might result in their transfer. Having
been in male institutions at every level of security, I had never experienced
from prisoners as great a climate of fear of making what were clearly
legitimate criticisms of the institution as I observed in 1996 at the
Edmonton Institution for Women. I should make clear that these were not
women who were afraid to speak out and, indeed, some of them had been
very vocal when they had been at the Prison for Women in making their
complaints public. However, here at Edmonton Institution, in the post-Arbour
correctional climate, their voices had been chilled as they had never
been at the Prison for Women.
The meeting with the four women was deeply disturbing. The meeting took
place in a pleasant room, and from where I sat, I looked out the window
through the chain-link fence to the highway. As the women talked, there
was a constant stream of traffic reflecting the arterial pulse of the
outside community. This was a very different picture women would have
experienced from within the Prison for Women in Kingston, with its high
granite walls designed to cut off any glimpses of life outside the prison.
Yet the more the women talked, it became clear that the degrees of separation
they experienced at Edmonton Institution were as bad, if not worse, than
at the Prison for Women. When I articulated the public’s perception of
the Edmonton Institution as being a vast improvement on the Prison for
Women, as evidenced by its cottages, its modernity, and the absence of
high prison walls, the three women who had been at the Prison for Women
all expressed, painfully, that with all its faults, they would rather
serve their time at the Prison for Women than at Edmonton. They felt they
had a greater degree of association between themselves, a greater consistency
in the application of the rules, and a far greater sense that their voices
could be heard.
The distress with which these women described their experiences at Edmonton
was manifested by Anita Hunt. Ms. Hunt, after being released from the
Prison for Women on parole, re-established herself in Edmonton, which
was her home town. While on parole, she had worked with the warden on
the planning committee for Edmonton’s Institution during the period it
was being built and the programs were being designed. She had thrown herself
into the task because she believed the Correctional Services of Canada
was serious about improving the situation of federally sentenced women
and implementing the vision of Creating Choices.
Subsequent to her work on the planning committee, she had been charged
and convicted for another offence, for which she received a two-year sentence.
She therefore found herself now a prisoner in the institution which she
had helped design. However, instead of implementing a vision of empowerment,
it had turned out to be more repressive than the Prison for Women, for
which it was intended to be a counter-point -- a new start, a new philosophy.
For Anita Hunt, what she was now experiencing, was, as she put it, "a
violation of trust." She had dared to believe that things could be different.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, and with her sisters comforting
her in a quiet demonstration of what peer support is all about, Anita
Hunt cried out to us, "I don’t want to leave another Kingston to anybody." Page 2 of 2
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