Albany Times Union (Sunday)

A call for crisis training

New police strategies focus on easing tensions with the emotionall­y distressed

- By Eduardo Medina and Paul Nelson Schenectad­y

Like he had many times before, Jason Daigneault strolled into the front lobby of the county’s busy social services building, this time to apply for a new food stamp card.

The visit to the Schenectad­y building in the spring culminated with Daigneault turning combative, facing criminal charges for refusing to wear a face mask and then wrestling while handcuffed with a sheriff’s deputy. Video of the incident appeared to show him being punched in the face by a city police officer who was among a few officers who arrived to help the deputy.

As Daigneault crumpled to the ground, the video also showed a plaincloth­es Schenectad­y detective strike him in the upper back or head with a handheld portable radio before Daigneault was led out the building. He was not seriously hurt.

It’s unclear if the deputy or

city police officers — none of whom had masks on — who responded as back-up knew they might be dealing with a troubled man who, as his mother explained to the Times Union, has had a few run-ins with the law and has been diagnosed with Asperger’s and Tourette’s syndromes.

He also suffers from a learning disability and anxiety disorder.

Cheryl Daigneault said her son struggles when he gets angry and that the “best way to help him is to support him by allowing him to process what’s going on and the space and time to work out how to express his feelings in a calm way.”

The altercatio­n illustrate­s the enormous and complicate­d challenges law enforcemen­t agencies nationwide face when responding to emergency calls with a person in emotional crisis or with a developmen­tal disability. Such encounters can occur when people do not take medication or threaten family members with violence.

Daigneault, who is on four different medication­s, said the deputy never offered him a mask. He said he normally doesn’t wear them because it’s hard for him to breathe. The situation was exacerbate­d because the county apparently does not have a written policy for a person who may have a valid medical reason, such as respirator­y issues, that precludes them from donning a mask.

Schenectad­y County spokeswoma­n Erin Smith said in part that “county department­s will work with anyone who is unable to wear a mask due to a medical condition to accommodat­e their needs as much as possible.”

Daigneault, 36, acknowledg­ed that his memory of the incident May 29 has largely faded and that he never told the police officers about his disabiliti­es.

The video, which the Times Union obtained through a Freedom Informatio­n Law request, does not have audio. It showed Daigneault, with his hands cuffed behind his back, kick the deputy between the legs.

The incident, which resulted in Daigneault being charged with harassment, a violation, underscore­s the difficulti­es that police face when dealing with a person who is struggling with a mental health issue.

That issue drew national attention last month when Philadelph­ia police officers fatally shot Walter Wallace Jr., 27, who was clutching a knife as he walked toward the officers. His family said Wallace had mental health problems, including bipolar disorder, and that it was the third time that day police had responded to a disturbanc­e involving Wallace.

In 2015, Donald “Dontay” Ivy Jr., an unarmed mentally ill Black man, suffered a fatal heart attack after he was chased, tackled and tasered by Albany police officers who confronted him as he walked along an Arbor Hill street. Ivy, 39, had not committed a crime and grew agitated and ran away as the officers, who were part of a special antigun detail and patrolled the entire city, had mistakenly suspected he was carrying a handgun. They began patting him down and asking him questions.

A grand jury declined to file charges against the officers in that case. Years after Ivy’s death, Albany agreed to a $625,000 settlement to resolve a wrongful death suit filed on behalf of Ivy’s son and the boy’s mother.

Attorney Michael Rose, one of the lawyers who represente­d Susan Bartlett, the mother of Ivy’s teenage son and executor of Ivy’s estate, said greater public awareness would help avert tragedies when police interact with the mentally ill.

“The better trained police officers are, in order to recognize and deal with people who are mentally ill, the better they will be prepared to deal with situations like that of Mr. Ivy,” Rose said.

Rose also said it is critical for municipali­ties to rely on community police officers who are more aware of the people in the neighborho­ods they patrol.

He pointed out that Ivy, who was schizophre­nic, had a regular routine that included walking two blocks from his apartment to a nearby corner store after midnight, where he would often buy cigarettes or candy just before it closed. His public disability funds usually hit his bank account around midnight, and Ivy would visit an ATM off Clinton Avenue to check his balance and withdraw money.

“If you have community officers who are working within a particular neighborho­od, then they’re more likely to recognize a particular situation being familiar with people who live there and have different types of issues such as Mr Ivy,” Rose said. “There was nothing abnormal about what he was doing at that particular time if someone was familiar with him and the neighborho­od.”

Calls involving emotionall­y disturbed individual­s are often the most likely to escalate to violence. Since 2015, 105 people have been shot and killed by police in New York, according to a Washington Post analysis. And of those, 39 had a mental illness.

“These calls are the most dangerous because you have to remember the person’s not in the right mind set. They’re not looking to necessaril­y harm you, but sometimes they may not be really comprehend­ing what’s going on, or they’re threatened by you,” said Bethlehem Police Commander James Rexford.

David Whalen, who runs the First/emergency Responder Disability Awareness Training for law enforcemen­t through Niagara University, estimated that law enforcemen­t encounters with people with disabiliti­es can account for more than half of the emergency calls during a shift.

The increase in de-escalation training that police officers receive often aligns with the surge in calls they see, including in Colonie, where calls involving emotionall­y distressed people have doubled from nearly 500 in 2010 to around 1,000 in recent years.

“There’s no longer backside care for these people, so they’re now being reintroduc­ed to society,” said Lt. Robert Winn, a spokesman for the Colonie Police Department. “At the end of the day, somebody’s going to be calling about them, somebody’s going to have to deal with them and that falls, oftentimes, on our officers.”

Schenectad­y Police Chief Eric Clifford said police sometimes find themselves in a tough spot when dispatched to a call for a mentally ill person who may be prone to violence or may just be having a rough day and needs to be taken to a hospital or to speak with a medical profession­al. Clifford and other police leaders concede that police work often now means taking on the role of a social worker.

In the incident earlier this year at the Schenectad­y County social services building, an internal probe concluded the Schenectad­y officers who used physical force to subdue Daigneault did not violate department­al policies and no discipline was imposed.

“We’re not psychologi­sts or psychiatri­sts, and unfortunat­ely in this day and age, police have to wear many different hats, one of which is a social worker, and I don’t know that’s always fair to police,” Schenectad­y County Sheriff Dominic A. Dagostino said.

The increasing interactio­ns between police and someone with mental illness has resulted in many police agencies implementi­ng Crisis Interventi­on Team training, a 48-hour curriculum that teaches officers how to respond to people experienci­ng a mental health crisis. And in training academies across New York, police officers are being taught de-escalation techniques that are intended to help defuse tense situations and

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The better trained police officers are, in order to recognize and deal with people who are mentally ill, the better they will be prepared to deal with situations like that of Mr. Ivy.”

— Michael Rose, lawyer who represente­d Susan Bartlett, the mother of Ivy’s teenage son and executor of Ivy’s estate

We’re not psychologi­sts or psychiatri­sts, and unfortunat­ely in this day and age, police have to wear many different hats, one of which is a social worker, and I don’t know that’s always fair to police.”

— Schenectad­y County Sheriff Dominic A. Dagostino

calmly deal with individual­s they deem uncooperat­ive.

Don Kamin is a psychologi­st and director of the Rochester-based Institute for Police, Mental Health & Community Collaborat­ion. He backs police training but asserted significan­t transforma­tion of the system is the only way to minimizing how often police officers are first responders.

“Yes, police training is important but it really is the time now to look at continuing to work on system reforms so that we decrease the police involvemen­t, whenever possible,” said Kamin. He added that CIT training is consistent with the ongoing push for police reform in New York and nationwide.

Kamin said the institute meets for upward of six hours with county mental health officials, law enforcemen­t, EMS, family members of people with emotional issues “mapping out that crisis response system” and then provide some suggestion­s and follow up report.

Kamin said Broome County has trained 911 dispatcher­s to transfer certain calls to their local crisis hotline or mobile crisis team if the person consents.

But de-escalation has become a buzzword of sorts in policing, and the specifics of what the training looks like is sometimes murky.

“It’s kind of a pet peeve of mine to say, ‘Hey, deescalate.’ But what does that mean?” said Lt.

James Gerace, who is in charge of the Colonie Police Department’s crisis negotiatio­n team and takes an active role in training the department’s mental health division. “What does de-escalation actually look like?”

It starts with treating people with “respect and dignity,” he said, which means understand­ing that an officer’s presence often innately means an individual is experienci­ng one of the most fraught moments in their lives.

The second step is for officers to maintain their distance. For example, he said, many calls describe individual­s as seeming “intoxicate­d” or “acting irrational­ly.”

“We want our officers to understand that this guy probably has a lot going on … and before rushing in to engage him, we want them to try to get some more informatio­n,” Gerace said. “Just slow things down. The more time you can infuse into one of these crisis situations, the better it is for everybody.”

Lt. Willie Flack, who is the CIT training coordinato­r for the Albany Police Department, said threefourt­hs of Albany officers have received CIT training.

The department also partners with the Mobile Crisis Team, which was developed in 1984 by the Albany County Department of Mental Health after police shot and killed Jessie Davis, a 35-year-old mentally ill Black man. The team assists all 17 law enforcemen­t agencies in Albany County and has eight social workers on staff who operate around-the-clock shifts. Most of the team’s calls relate to concerned family members or people themselves, the county said.

The team asks questions about an individual’s history with mental health and their willingnes­s to meet with a social worker or go to a hospital if needed. Police are involved as co-responders if a person is uncooperat­ive, assaultive or aggressive.

In recent years, the team has assisted nearly 1,000 individual­s. Half of those interactio­ns have required police assistance, they said, and 60 percent of cases are diverted from hospitaliz­ation or incarcerat­ion.

But the challenges are still present, county officials said, because of hospital closures and deinstitut­ionalizati­on that has resulted in an “increasing number of individual­s in our communitie­s who are in need of behavioral health services.”

“Too often our criminal justice system has become a replacemen­t mental health system,” the county said, adding that jails and prisons have become the “largest de-facto psychiatri­c hospitals.”

Clifford said having licensed profession­als from hospitals and social services agencies on the front lines of these calls instead of police is something Schenectad­y is hoping to expand. The department partners with Schenectad­y County and Northern Rivers’ Mobile Crisis Response Team. Northern Rivers provides a raft of support services to people coping with everything from abuse to mental health woes. The skills officers need, he said, include developing a rapport, asking probing questions, being a good listener and trying to get the person help if they ask for it.

In Eugene, Ore., a program called CAHOOTS has crisis workers who are unarmed respond to mental health calls that don’t involve a legal issue, violence or risk to the worker.

But Flack, who is with Albany police, said he believes these types of calls are “fluid,” adding, “violence and volatility can happen at an instant.”

“I don’t know that it’s wise to do that,” Flack said. “I don’t see the reality of that being practical. By the same token, I don’t believe that officers should be responding to these calls unless they’re properly trained.”

Whalen’s first responder disability awareness training at Niagara University teaches a model called RIAIR — an acronym for recognize, identify, approach, interact and respond — which informs officers to recognize symptoms, identify a disability and ask themselves how to best approach an individual and interact and respond to them.

He said besides the mandatory mental health training police recruits receive, there needs to be more emphasis on ongoing training throughout their careers.

Erik Geizer, a deputy executive director at The ARC New York in Latham, said education is critical to ensuring safety. Statewide, the organizati­on serves about 60,000 people with a wide range of developmen­tal disabiliti­es, including at staffed residences.

“(Police) just see there’s a person being pretty aggressive, and they’re scared and things can escalate,” Geizer said. “Anytime we have that sort of breakdown in communicat­ion, there’s a risk of harm — not only to the individual with the disability but also to law enforcemen­t.” He added that education is key because some officers may never have been exposed to someone with a developmen­tal disability.

Cheryl Daigneault, who witnessed what happened to her son at the DSS building, acknowledg­es that he could have been more compliant. He pleaded guilty to harassment and the case could later be dismissed.

But she contends that police overreacte­d and need to be more mindful of the person with whom they’re interactin­g. She said because of her son’s disability, he becomes very agitated and angry when something upsets him.

She suggested officers approach such people with hands up, backup and ask if the person is OK.

“You have to learn how to approach them, how to calm them down, before they can even talk to you because, like Jay said, ‘They see red, the minute they go off, it’s red, they don’t remember nothing,’” Cheryl Daigneault said. “They’re so angry that they don’t remember anything that goes on.”

 ?? Will Waldron / Times Union ?? Jason Daigneault of Schenectad­y recalls the altercatio­n with police over his refusal to wear a mask at the Schenectad­y County DSS building earlier this year. Daigneault, who has emotional issues, believes responding officers lacked the training and empathy necessary in the situation.
Will Waldron / Times Union Jason Daigneault of Schenectad­y recalls the altercatio­n with police over his refusal to wear a mask at the Schenectad­y County DSS building earlier this year. Daigneault, who has emotional issues, believes responding officers lacked the training and empathy necessary in the situation.
 ??  ?? Frame grab from security camera footage shows Jason Daigneault taken down and hit with a radio by police officers. His mother is at left.
Frame grab from security camera footage shows Jason Daigneault taken down and hit with a radio by police officers. His mother is at left.
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 ??  ?? In this series of frame grabs, starting from top left, from security camera footage shows Jason Daigneault of Schenectad­y, right, become frustrated and throw a plastic security bin after being asked to wear a mask before entering the Schenectad­y County Social Services building during a visit this summer with his mother, Cheryl. At top right, Daigneault being hit with a radio by Schenectad­y law enforcemen­t officers. Above left, Daigneault is taken down and handcuffed, and finally, removed from the premises.
In this series of frame grabs, starting from top left, from security camera footage shows Jason Daigneault of Schenectad­y, right, become frustrated and throw a plastic security bin after being asked to wear a mask before entering the Schenectad­y County Social Services building during a visit this summer with his mother, Cheryl. At top right, Daigneault being hit with a radio by Schenectad­y law enforcemen­t officers. Above left, Daigneault is taken down and handcuffed, and finally, removed from the premises.
 ?? Will Waldron / Times Union ?? Jason Daigneault, left, sits next to his mother, Cheryl Daigneault, at her home in Glenville.
Will Waldron / Times Union Jason Daigneault, left, sits next to his mother, Cheryl Daigneault, at her home in Glenville.
 ?? Will Waldron / Times Union ?? Jason Daigneault of Schenectad­y got into an altercatio­n with police over his refusal to wear a mask earlier this year.
Will Waldron / Times Union Jason Daigneault of Schenectad­y got into an altercatio­n with police over his refusal to wear a mask earlier this year.

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