Leroy Smith has seen several facets of the criminal justice system. In 2010, the 50-year-old Gary, Indiana, native’s most recent — and, he says, his final — stint in the Marion County jail system came after being in “the wrong place at the wrong time.” Smith, an already convicted felon, was hanging out with a group of men when police approached. A pipe belonging to one of them, which he says contained less than a nickel’s worth of crack-cocaine, landed near his feet. He took a plea for the Class D drug felony charge and spent 90 days in a place he’d come to know — Marion County Jail II.
“Being in the county jail is worse than being in the prison system. One reason is because you have no movement. It was hard being in there. … You’re stuck to one place. You picture a warehouse that’s caged up with bunk beds. That’s how they house men. It’s like cattle, like putting a herd of cattle in a pen,” said Smith.
Day in and day out, he said, all activities from meals to showers and everything in between took place there.
“There’s nothing there for (inmates) to be rehabilitated. You have overcrowded county jails, they don’t have programs. They’re basically just spending time there,” he said. “Because of that, it’s really screwing the system up and (screwing) our communities up. If I go in some place looking for a change and don’t get it, I’m coming out the same way.”
After being released from jail, Smith spent a year on probation while enduring bouts of homelessness and joblessness. Smith said it was hard.
“I had to find a job, and if I didn’t (the court) would violate me. I had to go to classes, and if I didn’t go and pay those fees, they would violate me (for that), as well.”
Smith said he was responsible for paying more than $100 each week over the course of nearly two months for mandatory classes, in addition to probation fees and paying out-of-pocket for his court-mandated drug screenings.
“Once you’re in the system and labeled as a felon, it’s hard to survive out here. And also being a Black man in America, it’s hard,” he said. “We shouldn’t commit crime. I’m a firm believer in that and have learned that over the years, but how are you gonna tell someone not to commit a crime when they don’t have food to put on the table, clothes on their backs … they don’t have four walls to get out of the different weather environments?”
Smith said he believes more solutions are needed outside of the criminal justice system to help people. On the other side of his own incarceration experience, Smith — with the help of his pastor James Jackson of Fervent Prayer, wife Rosie and children — found a new lease on life. He found a way to influence others who have gone through similar situations. After a fateful meeting at a fast-food restaurant shortly after his release, a then-homeless Smith met David Sherron of Unto Him Ministries. Since then, Smith has done volunteer work and street ministry. Recently, the group fed 1,000 homeless Indianapolis residents. “I’m giving back what somebody didn’t give me,” he said.
“One of the things that I believe is that incarceration is not the answer all the time. … We need programs for individuals to come out and be able to change their way of living. I think that these leaders need to come out from behind their offices and into the battlefield with us to pull these people out of the gutter.”
Looking beyond lockup
In his inaugural State of the City address, Indianapolis Mayor Joe Hogsett announced a comprehensive plan for criminal justice reform.
The proposed plan, which includes initiatives to decrease the numbers of arrests through specialized mental health and addiction services, crisis intervention training for law enforcement and first responders, pre-trial support, bail reform and pre-arrest diversion, among other elements, has been lauded by a number of city officials.
City-County Council President Maggie Lewis said the plan is better than those presented in the past due to its focus on reform and community impact rather than just facilities.
“It’s a better approach, because it gets to the root cause of why folks end up in the criminal justice system,” she said.
According to data from the Marion County Sheriff’s Department, more than 900 of the county’s inmates at any given time suffer from mental illness, and the number of inmates dealing with opioid addiction has drastically increased in recent years. The cost of detaining those with mental illness is an estimated $8 million per year.
Lewis, who worked for several years in the social services sector, said the goal is to reduce these numbers.
“If it was just about building a new jail with more beds to lock people up, I wouldn’t support it,” she said.
The city’s plan intends to intervene in cases involving mental illness and addiction before arrest happens, by referring people to a new Assessment and Intervention Center (AIC) run by the Marion County Health and Hospital Corporation.
The AIC will be housed on the Community Justice Campus on the city’s southeast side at the site of the former Citizens Gas and Coke Utility Plan. The county’s criminal, juvenile and civil courts will be relocated there, as well.
Additionally, Marion County jails I and II will be consolidated into one facility housing 2,600–3,000 beds. Having everything accessible in one area, Lewis said, will help those in need better navigate the system.
Sheriff John Layton agrees. “It’s imperative to me, and I think any sheriff, that these facilities are co-located,” he said.
Having all county courts in one area, along with a new pre-trial services agency, could potentially decrease the number of inmates who are incarcerated again due to issues like failing to appear in court or lack of access to post-incarceration resources. The agency will employ navigators to assist in this process.
Though facilities improvement is just one small part of the multilayered plan, the sheriff was careful not to downplay its significance.
“(The Marion County Jail) is a fossil. It is outdated,” he said. A new facility, he noted, will make the job of deputies more efficient and keep inmates safer through the use of wristbands to track inmates’ whereabouts, as well as the addition of 300 beds set aside in a separate therapeutic unit specifically for inmates with mental illness.
“This is about three to four years away, and this sheriff will never sit in the seat of running it. … This new jail will be able to service the community for many generations to come. It’s a much better situation than where we are now,” he said.
Scrutinizing the system
Recently, the City-County Council approved the allocation of $20 million to the Hogsett administration for the design and planning of the campus. In total, the project is slated to cost $575 million. The administration has been adamant in stating it will not require any additional tax dollars to complete, and funds will accrue through efficiencies found in consolidating jails and other facilities, as well as cutting personnel. Closing Marion County Jail II, which is owned and operated by private company Core Civic, is expected to save the city $16.5 million each year.
Though the measure passed by a vote of 17–7, some councillors, like Republican Marilyn Pfisterer, voiced their dissent. Pfisterer pointed out the “uncertainty” of Medicaid funding to cover the costs of mental health treatment due to the not-yet-resolved fate of the Affordable Care Act.
“$20 million is a lot of money, and there needs to be scrutiny. The councilors need to ask tough questions. It forces the administration to go back and make sure that their numbers actually make sense and that they are doable,” said Lewis, adding that the council is not losing sight of other important issues in the city like food access, infrastructure and raising wages for City-County employees. “Trying to find that balance is important.”
Lewis noted that getting “buy-in” from the Twin Aire neighborhood, where the facility will be located, was of utmost importance.
“When you talk about making neighborhoods better and improving quality of life, no one is coming out the gate saying, ‘Build a jail in my neighborhood.’ That’s not the first thing that comes to mind,” she said. “(City leaders) had conversations early on about what they wanted and didn’t want to see. We didn’t want this to just be our plan … because these people who are going in and out of jail are coming back to our communities, and we all want them to be successful.”
Erin Marshall, a member of Decarcerate Marion County and the No New Jail Indianapolis Coalition, feels that despite the plan’s promised benefits, several irredeemable flaws persist.
“I don’t want to see an expansion of incarceration in my state,” she stated. “Incarceration, jails and prisons are used to deal with problems that should be dealt with through mental health care and general health care for people.”
Marshall shared that her first up-close experience with the criminal justice system came during her time running a food pantry in Bloomington, Indiana. Seeing, in her mind, a direct connection between incarceration and poverty caused her to act. In 2008, Decarcerate Monroe County was formed and Marshall joined. Their initial action was to oppose the building of a justice campus in Monroe County.
The plan for Indianapolis, she said, is, “similar to proposals that are popping up around the country in that it’s liberal expansion of mass incarceration. It’s interesting because in the proposal they acknowledge that mass incarceration exists and it’s a problem that we disproportionately incarcerate poor, mentally ill and people of color,” said Marshall. “The thing about it that blows my mind is that they recognize all these things, but the solution is to expand incarceration. I think that in a lot of ways they have good intentions and understand the problem, but they’re trying to fix the problem with the wrong tools.”
Marshall said she has read the city’s proposal and after speaking with service providers and mental health professionals, she is not convinced the intended outcomes are plausible.
“We need more money for education. That’s one way we can decrease reliance on criminal justice. But that money comes out of different funds. I think the city feels like there are only certain things they have the power to influence,” she said. “They don’t have power over IPS closing, but they can build a justice complex. I get that that’s their goal, and I appreciate where they’re coming from, but I think they’re wrong. The plan is flawed.”
Leroy Smith
