"Not This Court's Concern"
It was my first day observing the city court of Poughkeepsie. After hearing many cases of people coming to court to pay for their tickets and fines, one case soon caught my eye: a defendant walked into the courtroom in an orange jumpsuit and chains alongside two police officers. Her face was very pale, her whole body in a defensive and fearful gesture. The defense attorney soon approached his client and whispered something in her ear, apparently explaining what to expect and asking her to remain calm. Due to the height difference, she had to look up at him and nodded frequently, repeating “yes, sir” in her mouth.
It turns out the defendant was coming close to her time served in jail, and the judge at first advised the attorney to release her back to her home under electrical monitoring. However, the judge seemed reluctant to discharge her from jail because of her mental health. The probation officer suggested having the jail doctor evaluate the defendant before determining whether or not she needed to be hospitalized; her defense attorney requested that his client be taken directly to the hospital.
From the little information given, the defendant was under constant supervision at the jail. Constant supervision involves assigning a correction officer to be present at all times in order to prevent an inmate from harming themselves or others. Defined by 9 NYCRR §7003.2(d), it says that the officer has to possess "the ability to immediately and directly intervene in response to situations or behavior observed which threaten the health or safety of prisoners or the good order of the facility.” Though the intention behind such supervision is to “save lives,” it seems like it would be better for inmates suffering mental distress to be transferred to a facility with trained professionals who actually treat mental illness. It seems that here the constant supervision is a little hypocritical to only be used to prolong one’s life to fulfill the terms that one is assigned in the jail and maximize their labor potential in the jail.
Back in the courtroom, the judge ordered the defendant to be examined by a jail doctor first. However, the jail officer could not promise that the doctor would be at the jail this week to assess the defendant in a timely manner. Because the jail outsources their medical treatment, the defendant might have to wait in jail for another two weeks before a doctor could see her. This situation is not particularly friendly to the inmates who really need medical help and assessment. In fact, in a 2018 report, the New York State Corrections Department identified the Dutchess County jail as “one of the five worst in New York,” in large part due to the fact that the commission found there was “inadequate medical care [provided] by Correctional Medical Care.” There were a couple cases of inmate suicides investigated indicating inefficiency, ignorance, and a failure to refer inmates in need to proper physical/mental health services.
As everyone was discussing her case, the defendant stood in the far left corner of the courtroom, chained and supervised, murmuring to her attorney: "What about my job? After I get out, I won't have a job." I was struck by her facial expression, which appeared to be very scared and confused about what was going on. The attorney did not handle her emotions very well; instead, he briefly summarized what was argued on both sides and simply said what she was asking about was "not of this courtroom’s concern today." I don't know if this court commonly deals with people who need mental health support in this way, but it was uncomfortable to witness the court treating her like an object and a child-like patient. The needs of the court and the needs of individuals are phrased as a dichotomy here when ironically the court serves those individuals. Both the court and the county jail should highly pay attention to and aim for a more humane and timely response to people in need.