Each legislative session I prepare myself mentally for what I know will be an extremely frustrating and contentious few months, depending on who I am interacting with.
I feel obligated to do all that I can to make Connecticut better, more inclusive, more just, more humane. What makes social justice work in Connecticut a heavy lift is the fact we are a deeply segregated state and its presence is felt quite a bit while attending and testifying in public hearings.
In certain hearings the tension can be cut with a knife. Much of my experience has been in Judiciary Committee hearings. Government Oversight, a newly established committee and the Executive and Legislative Nominations Committee have been rather pleasant hearings to attend. The membership of the group determines whether I feel seen and heard or dismissed.
In certain hearings I feel like I’m walking into a warzone. I hate it. I am quite aware that not everyone in Connecticut politics wants to see change happen and the resistance is deeply felt in words, dismissive looks, low energy and body language. While many seek dismantling this unjust system, others wish to maintain the status quo at all costs.
This is how the dance goes during each session. Two steps forward and three steps back. By the end of each session I tell myself, “This is it, I can’t do this anymore, the space is too toxic,” yet I continue to show up for the next dance session because I refuse to give up on justice, on the most vulnerable in our society and especially our youth.
My job is not to save the world. It is to break the mold of racial injustice beginning at the roots. Today was one of those days. I have been fighting to transform our carceral system into one centered on humanity and justice. With every policy proposal submitted comes resistance from those who are fine with a carceral system that leaves people broken in spirit, body and mind.
Although countless voices show up to tell painful stories of deep trauma suffered within the jails and prisons in Connecticut, many feel their words fall on deaf ears and cold hearts. The worst part is doing the heavy work to codify humanity and justice into law only to have the laws violated without consequence.
The PROTECT Act was passed in 2022 ushering in policies like ending isolation which granted more freedom from the cages that housed people for decades. The resistance began soon with “staff shortages.” Currently there are more 24-hour lockdowns now than ever before. Families travel far to face a locked down facility.
For the past two years we have been struggling to end degrading, dehumanizing and humiliating strip searches without probable cause. Some decided to utilize video visiting to avoid the searches. A new policy initiated in one facility thus far stating that the search will continue even with video visits. The claim from DOC is that the searches are about safety and security; keeping contraband from entering facilities so what is the justification for performing them after a remote visit?
A 2024 Department of Correction report stated over 350,000 searches were performed in that year alone. That begs the question, how many searches produced contraband? Advocates are seeking a change in policy now to significantly reduce the searches while the department looks into body scanners for the future. A 31-year-old man was beaten to death inside Garner Correctional Institute due to his refusal to submit to what many call state-sanctioned sexual violence. Resistance is high.
An acknowledgement has been made that searches need to end sooner rather than later due to the lasting psychological harm they have and are causing. Still the discussion centers on purchasing body scanners in the future. Since DOC violates the law with impunity, we are again doing the dance, one step forward and two back.
In June I’m sure I will again feel drained and making a claim to end this work and yet I’ll likely be preparing for the next session (or not).
Barbara Fair lives in West Haven and is a member of Stop Solitary CT.