桃子视频

鈥淵ou鈥檙e on the list.鈥�

It took a few seconds for Chalana McFarland to grasp what was happening. Her name was one of just a few on the list of people who would be released from prison early due to COVID-19. Behind her stood a line of dozens of other women waiting to see if they made it. Only some of them had. But as Chalana received the news, they started cheering, and caused such an uproar that the correctional staff had to reprimand them. That鈥檚 when it finally clicked for Chalana 鈥� after 15 years in prison, she was finally going home.

Chalana immediately contacted her daughter.

鈥淚 was watching a movie with my roommate when I got the news,鈥� says Nia, who is 19 and lives in Tallahassee, Florida, where she attends university. 鈥淎t first I was like, 鈥榃hat?鈥� I didn't think it was real. Then I just fell over crying. I couldn鈥檛 even talk. Later, when we talked on the phone, I could hear the happiness in my mom鈥檚 voice that this was all finally going to be over.鈥�

A number of prisons and jails across the country have begun to release people who are vulnerable to COVID-19 due to age or underlying health conditions, or people who are incarcerated while awaiting trial. This is the result of pressure from public health officials, advocates, and corrections officials. But the coronavirus poses a threat to all incarcerated people. It can spread rapidly in jails and prisons, where social distancing is impossible, access to hygiene is lacking, and medical care is inadequate. If even one person becomes infected, the potential outbreak could be devastating. There are already more than of COVID-19 in state and federal prisons and jails combined, and this is despite the fact that testing is impossible in most facilities. Facilities including , Oakdale federal prison in Louisiana, have already seen deadly outbreaks.
Chalana knew that as a Black woman with asthma, high blood pressure, and sickle cell trait, she was at a higher risk. She feared that her 30-year sentence in federal prison for mortgage fraud would become a death sentence if she remained in prison.
鈥淢y greatest fear is to die in here,鈥� she told the 桃子视频by phone from the prison. 鈥淲e try to stay away from each other so as to not pass it,鈥� but there is only so much they can do.

The FCI Coleman facility in Florida houses roughly . Chalana describes their quarters as tightly-packed cubicles with three walls and no ceiling 鈥� about the size of a walk-in closet. Each cubicle contains a bunk bed, but because many of the women are elderly or have medical conditions that impede mobility, the bunks are often cut in half and laid side-to-side, taking up almost all of the floorspace.
鈥淥nly one person can move around at a time,鈥� says Chalana. 鈥淵ou can look over the wall and see the person next to you. So if someone gets COVID-19, they're going to give it to the next person and probably the person on the other side of the wall as well.鈥�

The women at Coleman have already suffered other infectious outbreaks this year. In the winter, flu and , hospitalizing several women and overwhelming the prison鈥檚 already-overstretched medical staff.
鈥淪ometimes you had to wait if you had to vomit or had diarrhea, because all the toilets were full,鈥� remembers Chalana. 鈥淎ll night long it sounded like a TV war because people were just coughing, coughing, coughing. It was horrible.鈥�
Approximately 40 percent of people in jails and prisons suffer from at least one chronic health condition, and jails and prisons tend to have , even on a good day. Often, there are simply not enough medical staff to treat the hundreds or thousands of people living in the facilities.
鈥淚t鈥檚 not humanly possible to treat the number of people they have,鈥� says Chalana. She says that if someone feels they are sick, they need to fill out a slip and give it to the prison鈥檚 medical staff, who then determine whether they need to see a doctor 鈥� without examination. Those who are selected can wait up to two weeks to actually see the doctor. The procedure is no different for people with COVID-19 symptoms, who are sent back to the dorms while they await care. 鈥淚t鈥檚 like Russian roulette,鈥� says Chalana. (The Bureau of Prisons did not respond to a request for comment on the care provided at Coleman.)

鈥淭he longer you're here, the more you realize that you have to take care of yourself and the others around you as much as possible, which means that when someone's sick, we all pull together to see what kind of over-the-counter medicines we have to help the person,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e make tea. We make chicken soup. We do what we can to try to help each other, but when it's something that's viral like the coronavirus, there's nothing we can do about it.鈥�
The threat of COVID-19 came to light gradually at Coleman. Most of the women learned about the virus from friends and family members on visits or phone calls.

鈥淥nce we saw the news about the county jails, and what was happening at Oakdale, that鈥檚 when the alarm went off that we were really in danger,鈥� says Chalana, referring to the where the COVID-19-related death toll is rising.
鈥淵ou feel helpless,鈥� Nia tells the ACLU. 鈥淭here's someone that you love and care about so much, and it seems like no one else really cares about them. So I was just praying, hoping, and waiting because there was nothing I could do.鈥�

Inside Coleman, Chalana was concerned about her family鈥檚 safety, too. 鈥淲e worry about them just as much as they worry about us,鈥� she says. 鈥淢y parents are both 76 years old, and I worry every day that they're going to go to the market and contract COVID, and I won't get to see them while they're still alive.鈥�

Nia was only four years old when her mother, then an attorney, was sentenced to 30 years in prison for mortgage fraud, a first-time offense.
鈥淚 came to understand that justice and fairness can be incongruent,鈥� she says. 鈥淎s an attorney, wife, and mother of a 4-year-old, my life as I knew it came to an end.鈥�
Nia was too young to remember. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 have a lot of memory of my mom not being behind bars,鈥� she says. 鈥淢y whole life I鈥檝e always imagined what it would be like to have my mom actively present in my life. I didn鈥檛 expect that to happen until I was in my 30s.鈥�
For the last 15 years, they have stayed connected as much as they could through letters, video calls, and regular visits. Chalana would mail Nia items she made in prison, like bags she knitted for her to take to dance class and folders she decorated for school.
鈥淚t was like cool, customized stuff that nobody else had,鈥� says Nia. 鈥淎nd it made me feel like she was there, even though she couldn鈥檛 physically be there.鈥�
Still, there were always significant barriers between them. They have never been able to spend more than a few hours together at a time, and that time is always shared with others. Chalana has never seen Nia dance or play basketball, and she missed her baptism. She鈥檚 missed every graduation since kindergarten, including Nia鈥檚 high school graduation, where she delivered a speech as senior class president.

Nia鈥檚 speech was about her mother.

鈥淚t was about not letting your circumstances define your destiny,鈥� she tells the ACLU. 鈥淛ust because you鈥檝e been dealt certain cards in life doesn鈥檛 mean you can鈥檛 change and be a successful person on your own.鈥� She wrote the speech with Chalana鈥檚 help and read it to her over the phone for practice.
Now Chalana hopes to see Nia鈥檚 college graduation. But most of all, she looks forward to spending time with her daughter without any barriers between them.
鈥淚鈥檒l finally get a chance to know who my daughter is,鈥� says Chalana. 鈥淭o just snuggle on the couch with her and find out whether she's as much of a Star Trek fan as I am, or if she doesn't like asparagus or something like that.鈥�
The upcoming release 鈥� any day now 鈥� is hard for Chalana to talk about without getting emotional. Her reunion with her family was always going to be momentous, but amid the COVID-19 pandemic, there is an added element that perhaps wouldn鈥檛 have been top of mind under different circumstances: their health. Chalana knows she is also lucky to be able to reunite with her family while they are all still healthy.
Though Chalana made the list of releases, her fight to get out of prison isn鈥檛 over. Today, she鈥檚 sifting through a mountain of paperwork to leave Coleman 鈥� which is much harder than getting in, she鈥檚 realized. She still doesn鈥檛 have a release date and the thought of it is still surreal: 鈥淚t鈥檚 sort of like, 鈥極kay, God, please let this all be real.鈥欌��
The world Chalana returns to will also be far different from the one she left behind 15 years ago. She鈥檚 returning to a pandemic-stricken world where people are staying six feet apart and wearing masks in the street, where stores and restaurants are shuttered and whole cities and states are required to shelter in place. But she鈥檚 not worried about what life will be like under quarantine.

鈥淓very day people are saying how frustrated they are being quarantined and how they're going stir crazy inside,鈥� says Chalana. 鈥淲ell, that's our lives every day. Just imagine what you鈥檙e going through now on quarantine, but you can鈥檛 control what time you go to bed, eat, or shower. There's no TV, no internet, no computers. That鈥檚 a small taste of what our life is like in prison.鈥�
Chalana knows that some people will say 鈥測ou did the crime now do the time.鈥�

鈥淚 get that,鈥� she says. 鈥淏ut at the same time, we鈥檙e people too. We鈥檙e your mothers, your daughters, your neighbors, your friends ... I don鈥檛 deserve to die in here, and none of these ladies do.鈥�