Episode 4: Diversions and Excess Scourges

In Episode 4 Myra takes the listener along as she navigates mental health court in support of her brother. She critiques diversion courts, emphasizing their role in expanding the criminal legal system rather than reforming it. Along the way, she shares personal anecdotes about struggles with housing and mental health services, as well as her own experiences managing her husband's medical needs within the prison system. The episode includes a satirical commercial break and a candid glimpse into a nonprofit gala, highlighting the disconnect between affluent donors and those with lived experiences. Myra ends the episode reflecting on the constant anxiety of having a loved one in prison, leaving listeners with a poignant reminder of the emotional toll it takes. 

CREDITS

Intro voices In order of appearance: 

Lex Ward

Kassandra Voss

Joellen Terranova

Davonna Dehay

Episode: 

Myra: La Tisha Conto 

Concerned Listener: Davonna Dehay

Dramatic Legal Show Voice: Nathan Keyes

Commercial Voice: Benita Robledo 

Police Brewtality Barista: Nathan Keyes

Donor Bob: Will Bire

Judge Mowder: Nathan Keyes

Transcript

Intro 

Myra: 160 days until my husband comes home. 

Myra: Last week I received a comment from a listener who said -

Woman voice: I like the show but it’s too much about prison. Surely there must be more to you than just being a prison wife. 

Myra: Well listeners, she’s right, there is a lot more to me than just being a prison wife. So, today, for this listener’s pleasure, I am coming to you from my car but I am not outside Theirway Heights. Instead I’m coming to you from 'up the street' which is the location my brother described when I agreed to take him to a friend's house to grab his phone charger.

Myra: It's just smart of my brother to say up to street. It's a strategy deployed often by people who have to rely on others to get basic shit done. Once we’re in the car and halfway to the destination that’s when they spring on you that up the street does in fact mean across town. Better to beg for forgiveness then ask for permission right. 

Myra:  I digress. But as I said before the listener is right. I am not just a prison wife, I am also a prison sister, a prison daughter, a prison niece. It means I have many interactions with the system, and see it in its various forms of terror. On today’s terror docket? Mental Health Court. To recap. 

Dramatic Legal Show Voice: Last time on mental health court. 

Myra: Ms. Caseworker if you don’t verify he’s homeless we can’t get him into this housing assistance program. The deadline is tomorrow. 

Caseworker: I don't’ know that he’s homeless.

Myra: The police report says he’s homeless. 

Dramatic Legal Show Voice: Viewers, we all know he’s homeless. Instead of giving up Myra turns to her colleague, who doesn’t work in housing but actually cares about people. They forge the homeless verification form and Myra’s brother gets into housing. And they all live happily ever after. 

Myra: O-kay, well thanks for the upbeat recap on the sad state of my brother's affairs. 

Myra: Mental Health Court runs on for a year. The quick and dirty is they hold your charges while you complete all these obstacles they put in front of you for mental health court. You have to show up every week for four to eight weeks, then every other week for a few months, then monthly. Guess which leg of the journey most people in the mental health court fall off at. Yes, the weekly visits. Showing up anywhere every week for anybody is difficult, but if it's during white collar business hours it is especially difficult for people who are tasked with showing up to mental health court. I mean, there is a myriad of reasons they don't make it – childcare, jobs, transportation (you know, take me up the street) money – it costs money to park in the general vicinity of the courthouse, and most people in the US don't have sick days or vacation days to cover the time they miss from work. 

Sound: Notification on phone

Myra: Hold that thought for me, That's a JPAY notification. Prison mail, private company gouging families for email. Another story for another time. But, my husband just emailed. He needs to go to the doctor and needs money on the spendable account to pay the copay. Hold one second because I have to send this quickly. 

Myra: I’m back. Done. Still waiting on my brother who was just running in real quick to grab his charger, twenty minutes ago. So, I was able to put some money on my husbands medical account. Guess how much his copay is? Just take a guess. Remember my husband makes .42 cents an hour – capped at 50 dollars a month. Minus 60% to taxes, and then has to supplement food and hygiene items. 4.00 dollars. Which is roughly 8% of his wages for one doctor visit. That doesn't even include prescriptions – another 3 to 4 dollars. 

Myra: Just like people out here, Having to pay so much for medical just means that most incarcerated individuals avoid medical at all costs. It's how my husband has ended up performing minor surgeries on himself and others. Most of it’s pretty routine - stiches, pulling teeth, but he did remove a bullet piece out of a friend’s back once. He is most proud of that surgery, and I am most horrified about it.

Myra:  if you’re outraged call your legislator – actually email them so you have a record of reaching out. Tell them that you think it’s outrageous that incarcerated people are asked to pay their own medical bills, when they have no control over their food, living conditions, or working conditions – all of which cause their health issues. Okay, my brother is coming and we need to go. I will report back after court. 

Myra: Okay, dear listeners, it’s 10:30am and I am now as always, coming to you from my car but now I am outside my legal aid organization office. I work a full time job in addition to case managing my brother, and helping out family, and my husband. Most of us who have a loved one incarcerated have full time jobs, parent children, and then also do all the necessary things that come with being an activist. I’m not talking hashtagtivists either. Yes, posting on social media is helpful, but the ones down here in the trenches are the ones who are working on the ground to ensure people’s needs are met, while also trying to abolish the system, which means lots of meetings, public records requests, investigations, events, panels, and so much more work. All unpaid. And it’s exhausting – designed to be exhausting by the powerful so we get tired and give up. We’ll never give up. But there are days – like today where it feels like the easiest thing to do because I just had to drop my brother off at his apartment by himself even though I know he’s having delusions, because I have to work today. Sometimes he can stay with me, but when he has delusions about the government coming after him, the last place that is safe for him is a legal aid office full of noise and people running around in suits. 

Myra: Court was… well, court. I wasn't able to record so I’ll have to do a dramatic reenactment for you. But first I was thinking about how I say things that seem very normal to me and maybe people outside of the carhort might not know what I am talking about. I think some things are fine for you to do the research on yourself and google, but I do think something like diversion court requires some context and notes – so I am happy to step into the professor role for the next couple of minutes while I explain diversion courts. From my perspective – which is to say an abolitionist's perspective on what diversion courts are and how they actually grow the criminal system. 

Professor Myra: Professor Myra here, welcome to criminal punishment system 101 where we’ll take a shallow dive into some of the legal system’s methods for expanding their budgets and torturing people in the process. First what is a diversion court, I think the Wikipedia page works just fine for what it is. I know, I know, professors generally try to dissuade you from citing Wikipedia but keep in mind those same professors cite fox news as a reliable source so we’re just going to go ahead and use it. 

Professor Myra: A diversion program, also known as a pretrial diversion program or pretrial intervention program, in the criminal justice system is a form of pretrial sentencing in which a criminal offender joins a rehabilitation program to help remedy the behavior leading to the original arrest, allow the offender to avoid conviction and, in some jurisdictions, avoid a criminal record. The programs are often run by a police department, court, a district attorney's office, or outside agency. Problem-solving courts typically include a diversion component as part of their program. The purposes of diversion are generally thought to include relief to the courts, police department and probation office, better outcomes compared to direct involvement of the court system, and an opportunity for the offender to avoid prosecution by completing various requirements for the program. These requirements may include:

·       Education aimed at preventing future offenses by the offender

·       Restitution to victims of the offense

·       Completion of community service hours

·       Avoiding situations for a specified period in the future that may lead to committing another such offense (such as contact with certain people).

Professor Myra: Diversion programs often frame these requirements as an alternative to court or police involvement or, if these institutions are already involved - spoiler alert they almost already are - further prosecution. Successful completion of program requirements often will lead to a dismissal or reduction of the charges while failure may bring back or heighten the penalties involved. 

Myra: That's from Wikipedia. There are all kind of diversion courts across the country. DUI, drugs, mental health – and they all kind of operate on the same premise – a charge is diverted while they jump through hoops convincing the court they are actually good people and removing them from their home to serve time would negatively impact them. 

Myra: DUI diversion courts are very popular because white, rich, and powerful people get lots of DUIs and the courts need to make sure they don't get sent to prison - because that would be devastating for them. 

Myra: Diversion courts are generally held up by  criminal justice reformists as their prized win in the fight against incarceration, but all the diversion courts succeed in doing is stressing people out, growing the system, and keeping some jail and prison spots open for more people. Think about how many times you’ve heard of a school, library, or some other public good closing. Now ask yourself how many times in your life you've heard of  jails and prisons closing.

Myra: You rarely do. Jails and prisons, and courts, are big business, and diversion courts are no exception. Diversion courts with their court ordered treatments, frequent drug tests, and ankle monitoring – all paid for by the charged individual, are also big business. It's the Prison Industrial Complex to be exact. There's this great quote from abolitionists 'if you build it they will fill it. It's truth. Or what's the sayings, when a door closes another one opens, but it's more like when one library door closes, another prison door opens. I think it helps to think of the criminal legal system as a house, and diversion is a mother in law suite they built over the garage. It doesn't mean you have less guests over to the house it means you accommodate more. Or, every time I get a bigger purse, I find a way to fill it with even more shit. So that's what it is. There’s diversion court to reroute some people so they can fill the jails and prisons with even more people, and I promise once you’re ensnared in the net they keep you there for a long time. And it has nothing to do with public safety.  

Myra: Okay, I know that was a lot. But now you’ve been primed. Without further delay. A day at Mental Health court with my brother. A dramatic retelling with narration and voices by me, and some helpful exposition from a report by our friends at Court Watch, read out loud by a computer. Bless the volunteers at court watch, because without them we wouldn’t know about all the truly awful things that happen in court rooms every single day. 

Myra: So, here we are at the metal detector, the first hurdle to getting into the courtroom. My brother’s agitation level is at about a 2. We get through the metal detector fine and head upstairs. This is my brother’s 7th visit in as many weeks to this courthouse, so we know that court is upstairs. And we’re lucky in this way - because many people are lost, and anxious, and the volunteers at the desks are pretty confused themselves. When we get to his courtroom, the one listed on the sheet outside, there aren’t any prosecutors or defense attorneys, or case workers and my brother is getting agitated. He has delusions so he believes that two FBI agents followed us into court today, and they are sitting In the courtroom. I know these are just two people who are also having to appear in court – because they are here every week with my brother, but that just confirms the suspicions. 

Myra: I notice right away that something is odd. It’s 10 minutes to 9 and the only people in this courtroom are the ones charged with crimes. 

Court watch: Court Watch report number one thousand two hundred four. Today in mental health court, courtroom four’s docket was changed after the printed docket was already hung on the door. This led to much confusion and stress by the individuals who were not alerted to the last minute change. At 9:00am several individuals waiting in court room 4 were alerted by the loved one of a mental health court participant that they needed to go to courtroom 8. Court watch notes this is the nineteenth occurrence of staff printing and posting dockets the night before resulting in confusion when the court rooms are changed. 

Myra: They’re right, it happens all the time, they make a late change and they forgot to reprint the sheet. Oh well, it’s just people living with mental health issues, who cares if things are a little bit hectic. Right? And yes, I was said loved one who alerted the rest of the room, even the FBI agents. And my brother wants the record to show I am a loathed one, not so much a loved one. 

Court watch: Court has already started by the time we move court rooms. When we entered individual name redacted for privacy was standing before the judge reciting an essay. 

Myra: Couple of things here, because court watch has to be diplomatic, because their report will be scrutinized, I don’t have to be. So, the courtroom is set up like a baseball diamond. Picture this – the visitors dugout is a long wooden table flanked by the public pretenders and case managers. Lots of NPR tote bags, TJ maxx pant suits for the lawyers, and jeans and blouses from Ross for the case managers. A thousand well worn manila folders are stacked so high around them it feels like theyre hiding. To the right of the batter’s box, is the home team – complete with home field advantage. The prosecutors, bunch of white men and women wearing brooks brothers suits, typing away on their government issued dell laptops. On the mound? Pitching, for the home team?  – none other than the judge whose decided slumming down in the diversion courts is a great way to get on the radar of the liberal governor who is going to select a supreme court justice soon. I mean, she cares. A lot… about upward mobility. Her own. Standing in the batter’s box fielding pitches from the judge is name redacted for privacy, batting 0 for 2 in mental health court. Today’s essay is his last attempt to stay in the program and avoid his charges. He’ll plead his case in front of a rowdy crowd, already fired up about the delay of court. 

Myra: You get it though. He fucked up, and so now they make him write an essay, a very difficult thing to do for anybody, but to top it off they make him read it out loud in front of everybody. Nerve wracking, right? And it’s not like all eyes are on him or anything, no the Public Pretenders and Prosecutors are talking amongst themselves, calling up clients to go over details about their cases, a service dog keeps barking every time somebody walks in or out of the courtroom. It’s chaos. There is nothing soothing, calming, or peaceful about this environment, and honestly this whole sham is so that cops can still arrest people for things like sleeping on a sidewalk, and then tell people it’s cool because they’re getting services. Services. Services. Let’s talk what those services actually are. 

Court Watch: The court calls name redacted for privacy next. Name redacted for privacy states that he hasn’t been able to find any counselors who will accept his Medicaid insurance. His case manager rises and assures the court they are working on a plan, and that recently they were able to get him into a program for unhoused individuals. Case manager proudly states that individual is living in an apartment on his own for the first time in over 5 years. 

Myra: Of course this fucking case manager is up there acting like she’s the one doing all this shit for my brother. But can I say anything? Of course not because I need my brother to get through this program. 

Myra: Of course the judge praises the case manager, and relays her concern that my brother get connected to services. I scream ‘pamphlets aren’t services, and pamphlets are all you motherfuckers offer.’ Okay I don’t, but I want to. What I really want to scream is that my brother, who by the way fucking loves plants, and landscaping and anything green because it soothes him is not able to be around plants, and gardens, because the only housing they’ll approve for him is something near services, which in most cities means downtown. For him – the noise of the cars, the motorcycles, the people, the sounds of the city, are aggravating. But nobody ever asks him what he wants, and so much like the plants he had to leave behind at his trailer when he got arrested, my brother lacks basic nutrients and care that would have helped him thrive earlier in life, and now he’s just trying his best to survive in a harsh environment not suited for him. 

Myra: And now a break. Because lord knows I need one. 

Commercial Voice: Police Brewtality. A new way of doing your morning coffee run. We’re serving up the cold brewed facts about law enforcement – one cup sleeve at a time. New facts served daily, that’s 365 facts a year, one on each cup of coffee. Yesterday’s fun fact? Families who have law enforcement officers in their household have 2 to 4 times the average of incidents of interpersonal violence incidents. Stop by the pop up stand locating directly outside the court house for your free cup of steaming hot coffee, and cold hard realities. Police Brewtality. Remember kids, don’t call the cops. Call the cops acab. 

Myra: Hey can I get a cup of that. 

Barista: Hey Myra, Hey Myra’s brother. Two cups for two of my favorite people. 

Myra: You going tonight? 

Barista: To the ‘oh it’s optional’ but absolutely mandatory mingle with the richies? Unfortunately. 

Myra: Me too. 

Barista: alright, see you then. Come get your hot brewed coffee with some cold hard facts. Police BREWtality. The coffee and facts are free, the ignorance you pay for. 

Myra: So I am taking you with me listeners, we’re going out on a little date. Myra’s got to do a little song and dance to keep her job. Some of you were quite angry with me after last week’s little light roasting of the nonprofit industrial complex. Seems some of you don’t see how nonprofits work to expand the prison industrial complex. For starters, who do you think is contracting with the courts and the prisons to perform a lot of these services? Treatments, drug rehabilitation, workforce development, so on so on. The state makes money from the incarcerated individuals and so do the nonprofits. So am I an asshole for working at one? Absolutely. We’re all propping up these horrible systems and institutions in a myriad of ways. Some of it we can’t even control – individually. All we can do is work to burn it down and make it better for the youth coming up behind us. But do we all want to burn it down? Fuck no. And that’s the fucking problem. 

Myra: See what you need to know about nonprofits is that the people working in them are made up of the affluents and the lived experiences. The power in the orgs always goes to the affluent, but the face of the orgs and the photo ops and poverty porn it's always handled by the lived experiences. Look, the affluents absolutely believe in the work they are doing and then they go home to their spouses who more often than not have a very high paid position in finance and feel like they have done their part. These are mostly white women, who are basically the middle management of the nonprofit world. They love the galas because it’s the place they feel most comfortable. Pretty dresses, pretty food, and they get to celebrate how much they are doing. The people who have lived experienced hate these things because all we see is the immense amount of wasted money. The lived experiences  are the  people who actually come from the environments that they are trying to help. They hate nonprofits, but are trying to do the best they can with the system that they work in, and usually are part of mutual aid and movement collectives in their ‘free’ time. and it's all free time - because they do more actual volunteer work then affluents. Way more. The lived experiences are also  the people who break the rules to actually get some help to people - like my colleague who did the paperwork for my brother to get him into housing. 

So, at the gala tonight I am going to be expected to delight this boring as fuck tight ass crowd with stories from the inside because though it’s legal aid, most of these fuckers have never set foot inside a prison outside of a client visit. When they go in to visit they’re chummy with the cops, and they’ll come back to the office and lie about how much they hate being nice to cops but the reality is they identify more closely with the cops then with their clients and that’s just the truth staring you dead in your pretty face. And they have no fucking clue what it’s like to actually support somebody whose incarcerated. Alright let’s get this show over with. - not this show, I like this show. I mean the show inside. 

Donor Bob: Myra, Myra, Myra. Speak of the devil’s advocate’s devil. 

Myra: Cutting in – Did I illegally record audio? Meh, its murky, I am not sure there is an expectation of privacy at a crowded gala that is being recorded. I mean sue me if you want to find out. The guy talking is a board member of redacted, my org. Obnoxious, rich as fuck, born with money, but likes to talk about how he relates to people experiencing homelessness because one summer he kicked around Mexico and wanted to try to heroin. 

Donor Bob: I was just talking to Judge Mowder here about this revolutionary court where people with mental health can go and get help. 

Myra: Yeah, my brother was there this morning. 

Judge Mowder: Oh, then we shouldn’t be talking. 

Myra: Right, wouldn’t want the whiff of conflict of interest. You just run along and mingle with all the prosecutors and defense attorneys and case workers. 

Judge Mowder: Always a pleasure Bob, say hello to your dad. 

Donor Bob: So Myra, now that I’ve got you alone, tell me all the deep dark secrets of redacted that I'm not privy to, 

Myra: Would love to Bob but I have to keep my health insurance. 

Donor Bob: You’re no fun. Fine, tell me about this mental wellness court. 

Myra: Mental health Court Bob. It's funny how they just love to talk about it here at galas, and election fundraisers but they never ask me or my brother to sit on panels when they talk about it in community meetings and conventions. In fact, they almost never have anybody who has actually been through mental health court talk about it. 

Donor Bob: Seems suspect. 

Myra: Exactly Bob. Now if you’ll excuse me, my husband is due to call and you know I can’t miss that.

Donor Bob: Hey tell the big man I said hi and I’m looking forward to  that chess game when he gets out. 

Myra: Will do. 

Myra: So yes, my husband is my get out of any conversation I no longer wish to be in card. The benefits  of working at a legal aid org is that everybody knows my husband is incarcerated so I don’t have to keep that secret. Which is a privilege, because a lot of prison spouses do. Everybody I work with knows I can't miss his call so it's fine if I run out on conversations. What's worrying me now is he was supposed to call 2 hours ago. I am not super worried... yet. If he got to medical he may be there overnight for observation, or maybe medical gave him a sleeping med, or he couldn’t get a phone, or the phones are down, or they are locked down, or he just fell asleep, or he’s dead. I know, I shouldn't go down that road, but imagine that every week, at least one day during the week you’re loved ones don't come home when they say they will, or you can' get ahold of them for a few hours when they should be available,  and you have no way of contacting them. It’s terrifying. You get used to it, but the anxiety is always there, and I'm not sure that's a good thing for the body. 

So we're just going to leave it at that for this week. Tune in next time where I will probably either be a mess because something bad has happened or be completely fine because he was okay. As always, you’re welcome and I’ve been great.