“Not for Human Consumption”
By: Famm Foundation
Tags: Food, Criminal Justice Reform, Prison, Famm, Prison Reform

Credit: South Carolina Advocacy for the Incarcerated

By Ann Espuelas

Prison food stinks — literally. “Imagine eating bologna that smells like fish, for 18 years,” says Lillian Coppess. Her husband, Wes, is in an Arizona state prison — but Arizona is not alone. A common theme across all state and federal prisons is the horrible food, from moldy bread to rodent feces on food trays and raw chicken.

It’s not just food quality; quantity is also an issue. “Only two meals are served on the weekends — an ‘enhanced’ breakfast and then nothing else until a dinner tray 10 hours later,” reports Claire Tate, a criminal justice reform advocate. “If someone is indigent with no funds for commissary, they go hungry. By the time dinner comes around, the portions are considered by most to be inadequate for a grown person — if they are edible at all.”

“My son needs food,” says H.L. , an affected family member. (H.L. and others in this story fear retaliation and poor treatment by prison staff if they report problems and are reluctant to share their full names.) “The food trays have 7 slots, and often only 3 or 4 of the slots have food. These are full-grown men and women being fed, and a peanut butter sandwich and an apple isn’t enough. Not to mention the water they are supposed to drink has been the color of green tea for the last eight days.”

As FAMM pushes for prison oversight — including more humane living conditions — reports like these are common and disturbing. The old saying about prison being “three square [meals] and a cot” doesn’t hold up: The starch-heavy diet, often including food marked “Not for Human Consumption,” is about as far from “three squares” as you can get.

Credit: South Carolina Advocacy for the Incarcerated

People in prison with families who can help financially often supplement their loved ones’ diets with funds for commissary items, but that’s not an option for everyone. “My son is in solitary confinement in Santa Rosa Annex,” writes affected family member J.D.L. “I just called and did a wellness check on him. I was told by an officer that he checked on him, but my son didn’t come to the door. Then I asked him about commissary. The officer said because my son is in disciplinary, he can’t get food except the little they give them. So basically they are starving people. My son is 6’2” and 180 pounds. What kind of rules allow a person to be starved for months, I asked him. No answer to any of this. So much for the wellness check. I don’t care what anyone did — they should not be starved or be in solitary confinement.”

At FAMM, we’re asking for oversight, answers, and accountability. Edible and adequate food is not a luxury; it’s a right. At the very least, prison systems are charged with providing shelter and food — a pretty low bar, but one that seems at best elusive and at worst deliberately not met.

We believe that every prison system should be subject to oversight by an independent body that has authority to monitor and inspect facilities, address prisoner grievances, and provide recommendations for improving correctional departments — including the food they provide.

“I cannot tell you how many times you would go into the chow hall and a cockroach would crawl off your tray,” says Laurette Philipsen, a former prisoner in the Florida Department of Corrections. “Or the food would be inedible. You either ate it or you didn’t. And if you ate it because you were so hungry, you’d get sick. Yes, I broke the law and I needed punishment, but that punishment didn’t include me being made sick or starving.”

Do you want to help FAMM push for oversight in prisons because you care about basic human rights for everyone? Please go here and see how you can help.

Ann Espuelas is FAMM’s Director of Family Outreach and Storytelling