:
Good morning, colleagues.
[English]
Welcome. This is meeting number 10 of the Standing Committee on Public Safety and National Security, on Tuesday, November 1, 2011. Again today we're continuing our study of drugs and alcohol in prisons.
For our guests, we are studying a number of components of that. It's not just drugs in prison. It's a study of how drugs and alcohol enter our prisons and the impacts they have on the rehabilitation of offenders, the safety of correctional officers, and basically on crime in general within our institutions.
This morning we have two witnesses who have travelled from the Yukon to testify before us. Our committee appreciates very much the time and effort our witnesses have already spent to be with us here today. Your committee is proud to have an in-person testimony by witnesses from one of the more remote parts of our great country.
Tony Van De Mortel is a correctional officer at the Whitehorse Correctional Centre.
Ken Putnam is a retired member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police following 33 years of service. He then worked as an investigator for the Yukon Safer Communities and Neighbourhoods units, which focused on illegal drug dealing, prostitution, and bootlegging operations. He continued to work with SCAN, which expanded its role to conduct inspections and standards of the Whitehorse Correctional Centre.
Again, your committee is grateful for your long service there and on this issue.
I would invite each of you to make your opening statements before we turn to questions from members of our committee.
Perhaps we will begin with correctional officer Van De Mortel, if you wouldn't mind.
Welcome.
:
Mr. Chair, my name is Tony Van De Mortel. I am a corrections officer at the Whitehorse Correctional Centre in the Yukon. I have been a correctional officer for three and a half years. The Whitehorse Correctional Centre—from this point I'll call it WCC—is the only territorial correctional facility in the Yukon, and it is a multiple level facility. WCC holds both male and female inmates and, as noted, will hold federal sentence prisoners for brief periods and for a variety of reasons. The facility also acts as a remand centre for people awaiting trial.
Mr. Chair, I understand the committee is studying the topic of drugs and alcohol within the federal correctional system. I'm here to share a personal experience that I hope will provide a unique viewpoint that may help you in your understanding of this topic.
On October 10, 2009, just 45 minutes into my shift, I responded to a disturbance in the central cell block unit of the facility. Inmates in cell six were engaged in a fight with fellow officers working the shift with me. When order was re-established, two of our officers had been choked from behind and I stood with a broken nose, the bone protruding through my face, and a broken leg.
The event was a result of the inmates consuming a brew they had crafted and hidden over a two-week period. That night I was taken to the hospital, undergoing surgery to reconstruct my nose, and ended up in a full leg cast. I was in a nose cast for four weeks and the leg cast for seven and a half weeks. It would be six months before I returned to modified work duties. I have never been able to return to duty in my full capacity, and I have endured countless hours of painful and tiring physiotherapy. I can only be on my feet for about 40 minutes and can't sit for long periods of time either. I take Advil or Tylenol 3 a couple of times a week to deal with the ongoing pain that never truly subsides. The specialists tell me this is as good as it will ever feel and nothing more can be done to improve my leg. The cartilage will always be uneven over the fracture and the bone is indented at the joint.
Mr. Chair, those are the physical scars, but there's more to this story. It was and continues to be very difficult for my family. I have a special needs son who wouldn't come near me while I had the cast on my face. My wife had to drive me everywhere and do everything around the house, including shovelling the snow. As you can imagine, Mr. Chair, that can pile high in the Yukon. I can't share in some of our favourite times together, like long hikes and other outdoor activities that keep me on my feet. Returning to work has my family often afraid for my safety and is a continued source of stress for them. I get frustrated because I am always tired, sore, and in pain.
Mr. Chair, there is another side. My co-workers and my clients, the inmates at WCC, were impacted by this. These kinds of events impact both staff and inmates' sense of security and trust. Front-line staff are the most significant influence of pro-social behaviour and motivators of positive behavioural change within the institution. This is because correctional officers spend the greatest amount of time with the inmates on a day-to-day and 24-hour basis. In our facility, staff work under a direct supervision model, which has the staff working directly in the living units, working with inmates, attending programs with inmates, and assisting them with all sorts of daily routine and learning activities. Direct supervision living unit officers maintain progress logs and help manage inmate case files directly related to their institutional plan.
As you can imagine, Mr. Chair, events where staff are assaulted negatively impact a fragile and critical relationship between staff and inmates. This is to the detriment of both. I can assure you, Mr. Chair, that the vast majority of inmates understand both the physical and the trickle-down impacts and dangers of brews within the correctional facility.
I recommend to this committee that efforts to support the help, hope, and healing of inmates, the safety of staff, and the recognition and understanding of the critical relationship between staff and inmates take into account the absolute need to keep prisons free of brews.
Furthermore, I can't underscore enough that while programs to deal with substance abuse and addictions are critical, front-line staff are the most significant and influential people in the life of inmates and stand to be the best source of positive behavioural change and demonstration of pro-social behaviour, and they must be provided with the tools, training, equipment, and support to keep illicit drugs and alcohol out of this environment in order to interact with limited barriers or fear for safety.
In effect, Mr. Chair, the officers are the program.
I thank you for your time and am willing to answer any questions you may have at this time.
:
Thank you, and good morning, Mr. Chair and committee members. I thank you for the opportunity to meet you here today.
I understand the committee is studying the impact of drugs and alcohol in federal prisons. And while I have never worked in a federal prison, I think my personal and professional experience may lend a very different perspective that I hope will add a fullness to your research that you may not have anticipated.
Mr. Chair, drugs don't enter the institutions of our nation without having first existed on our streets. Drugs are coming in, not out. Starting with that premise, then, you will start to understand where both my working life and my personal life may prove to give you insight for the important task at hand.
Mr. Chair, as you mentioned earlier, I am a retired member of the RCMP. I served 33 years in Alberta, the Northwest Territories, Nunavut, and Yukon. I retired at Whitehorse Detachment in 2005 as a watch commander.
My entire service consisted of front-line policing. Throughout my career, I have been involved in drug investigations and have witnessed first hand the impact on individuals, families, and communities. Mr. Chair, from that we must remember that a correctional centre is a community.
After my retirement, I worked for the Yukon government in a new program called Safer Communities and Neighbourhoods. The new act focused on closing down drug houses and bootlegging operations. Our unit closed down the most notorious crack cocaine den in Whitehorse, which had been in operation for over 20 years.
With the introduction of Yukon's new Corrections Act, I was tasked as an investigator to review critical incidents at Whitehorse Correctional Centre. These included serious assaults on staff, such as Mr. Van De Mortel just spoke of, stabbings, and other serious occurrences, including those involving drugs.
To say that my experience with drugs getting into a community and out of it into a correctional centre is limited to my experience as an investigator would be an accurate assumption. However, there is more to my story.
At 7:14 a.m. on January 14 this year, my wife, Lana, called me at work. There was absolute fear in her voice. Lana begged me to come home immediately. Lana said, “Ken, our lives are over.” I rushed home and found my wife frantic on the front porch. She said, “He's downstairs. Hurry.” I ran downstairs and found our 22-year-old son Christopher dead, hanging from a Bowflex machine.
As a policeman for 33 years who had seen it all, nothing in my experience prepared me for this. My son had struggled with alcohol and drug abuse for six years. Christopher had been in and out of jail seven or eight times and had attended five rehab centres.
There are a few points I need to make from this experience, an experience no parent should have to live through.
Lana and I never rested in our efforts to support and seek help for Christopher. We spent at least $100,000 seeking out treatment programs, from Montreal to Vancouver to Alberta, and yet the safest we ever felt was when Christopher, sadly, was in jail. I say this for a number of reasons. The staff in the Yukon understood that they worked inside a community, with people, not inmates, who were part of a greater community outside the facility. As Christopher's parents, we knew being in jail was the best opportunity for Christopher to avoid temptation and easy access to drugs. In short, we knew he would be sober, clean, and safe there, and that was a good thing.
This, of course, is not to say that there are no drugs, pressures, debts to be paid, violence, intimidation, and bullying within an institution, but they are reduced. They were and are reduced because of the continued and conscious effort of staff to keep drugs out and to keep violence in check.
This must continue to improve in order to provide the greatest hope for treatment and recovery for inmates who are wanting to, and ready to, change. I believe, Mr. Chair, this is something most inmates want as well.
On that note—what the inmates want—I've dealt with hundreds, thousands, of people who have been addicted. They've been in and out of jail, and of course they look at me as maybe the guy who put them there. I always had a fairly congenial relationship, if you could call it that, with people I dealt with on the street. Over the last 20 years, I've had people come up to me after they hadn't seen me for five or six years. They're a little bit uneasy. They'll say, “How you doing?” I say, “I'm doing great. How are you doing?” The very first thing that comes out of their mouth is that they quit drinking five years ago. They want me to know that. They want me to realize that they're not a complete lost cause. I've had quite a few people say that to me, so when I say most inmates want this, I believe that to be true.
To carry on, there are those who are addicted and those who feed the addictions through clear and conscious criminal choice. Those who struggle with addictions clearly need front-line staff support and effective treatment programs, and of course the absolute will to make the change and to take on a tremendous challenge.
The existence of drugs weakens those difficult efforts. It weakens them through the direct pressure on the inmate population, but it also detracts from the correctional officers' ability and time to focus on what they do best—providing positive leadership, guidance, and role modelling. It pits inmates against officers, and those who provide the drugs alienate, bully, and assault the inmates who welcome positive staff support. I know this from Christopher's direct experience. I could never share this story before because the “inmate code” transcends prison walls and creeps dangerously and continuously throughout our community, which would have made life for Christopher harder on the inside and the outside.
I often wonder if I should have spoken up sooner and louder. I applaud Corrections Canada's goal to have a drug-free system. However realistic one may believe that goal to be, the standards must be set high because the consequences of half-hearted measures can be deadly.
This may be a sad commentary, but the longer Christopher was in jail, the longer he was sober and the more focused his life became. This, I am certain, is a testament to the influence of the quality care and dedicated staff who work in an environment under circumstances most Canadians are unaware of. Behind those walls and under the right conditions, I firmly believe there is an opportunity for help, hope, and healing.
What lies ahead? I wish I had all the answers, but I don't. Lana and I wish we had Christopher here to tell you this story himself…but we don't.
Mr. Chair, I respectfully submit the following recommendations on Christopher’s behalf.
The first is that the government support Corrections Canada in its goal to rid the correctional facilities of drugs. It is what the inmates want.
The second recommendation is that the government support transitional services for inmates upon their release, with continuation of treatment services and other avenues of support to enhance their chances for success.
Third is that the government consider regulations and controls over treatment facilities to maintain integrity, consistency, and control over groups profiting from addictions services. It is not just the addicts who are desperate for change; families are vulnerable to fraud as they try in vain to help support their loved ones.
About five years ago, we sent our son to a treatment facility just outside of Montreal. It was a 90-day program. My wife Lana did all the work on the telephone, talking with the people at the centre. About 30 days into it, Christopher called us and said the place had been busted. I asked him what he was talking about. He said they had done a drug raid. I didn't believe it. He told me to Google it, and that it was in the news, so I did. The place itself had not actually been raided, but the owners, the director, and the people of this treatment facility were well connected to a gang out of Montreal--I believe it was called the West End Gang--who were charged and arrested, and 22.2 tonnes of hash that they had transported from Africa were seized from this gang in Montreal. It was a joint effort between the Quebec police and the RCMP.
I tell that story because when people are dealing with treatment facilities, they're phoning, they're desperate, they're crying, and they want help for their child or their spouse. A lot of times, the people they're talking to on the phone are the salesmen or saleswomen. They are the people who are selling you the goods. People have to be very, very careful in how they go about choosing appropriate treatment facilities. We had some good ones; we had some not so good ones.
The fourth recommendation is that the government continue seeking out the best treatment programs for the inmate population, and they include front-line correctional staff in the day-to-day support of inmates, because it is the front-line staff who have the greatest influence on the clients they interact with 24/7.
The fifth recommendation is that, as with treatment, the government support integration between law enforcement agencies in order to freely share information and support. Currently, information systems and independent investigations limit effective approaches to the cross-jurisdictional activities involving drugs.
Thank you. Merci.
:
I want to join my colleagues in saying thank you so much for coming today, and for sharing your stories and these real-life experiences, which we are already learning from—I most certainly am.
If I may, I'll share with you some of the testimony that we've heard from various witnesses. I'm going to pull various threads and themes that we've heard. I want to reassess those themes with you to see if you agree or disagree with them.
We've heard that 80% of the people who become incarcerated, at the time of their crime, were under the influence of drugs and alcohol. That was a significant influence on them, which is why they were involved in that crime.
We've also heard that upon entering the facility.... The Conservative government approved $122 million in additional funding some three years ago, which has contributed to the possibility of these drug prevention programs, as well as the health assessments and mental health assessments that are now going on within 90 days of the inmate's incarceration.
We've heard from the head of Corrections that this has resulted in a decrease in inmates participating in drugs and alcohol within prison, from 12% of testing to 7.5% of testing.
We've heard that the prisons have now become a target—the men's prisons more than the women's—as a hub for criminal activity, as Mr. Putnam was saying.
We have also heard that the inmates want treatment, and in some cases they even want to stay to complete their treatment. Whether it's because of a transfer they're coming up against, or because their time is up, they would actually prefer to stay that extra couple of weeks or a month, or whatever it takes, to complete their treatment.
Would you agree with some of these things that we've heard? Has that been your experience?
Thank you, Mr. Putnam and Mr. Van De Mortel, for coming here and telling your stories.
Mr. Putnam, I think your son would be proud of you for being here today, as would yours, Mr. Van De Mortel. You've done us a great service by coming here. Thank you also for what you've done and what you do to keep our society safe, as a former RCMP officer, Mr. Putnam, and as a corrections officer, Mr. Van De Mortel.
It's particularly important to have you here today, because often the witnesses who come to see us, even though they have some real-life experience in the area we're studying...sometimes we are witness to some very theoretical briefs. It is sometimes really hard to get a good detailed image of what's really going on, on the ground. That is why our visits last week to Collins Bay and Joyceville were so instructive.
Mr. Van De Mortel, the incident that occurred the night you were injured was the result of a brew. We've been told all along that these are not particularly appetizing drinks, that they're made out of things you could never imagine could be used to make a brew.
How do we prevent these brews from being made? Is it possible? Are inmates, just by virtue of the fact that they have access to food and what have you, always going to be able to make these brews?
In answering that question, could you refer to a point either you or Mr. Putnam made about how it will no longer be just a matter of having blinds in front of the windows on cell doors, that there will be, and I forget the term that was used, more direct supervision. Will that prevent brews from being made? What does direct supervision mean, actually?