Despite law, advocates cite issues with sex abuse reporting in prisons

For eight months in 1995, LaResse Harvey said, she was held as a sex slave by her cellmate at York Correctional Institution in Niantic.

In the 26 years since, the landmark Prison Rape Elimination Act was signed into federal law. The legislation gave prisoners several avenues to report sexual misconduct; required changes to buildings for added safety, such as adding doors with windows and installing more cameras; and mandated regular audits of each facility.

But people incarcerated in Connecticut say they still face sexual abuse from other prisoners and guards and that reporting the crimes isn’t always worth the consequences.

“It does not work,” said Harvey, who pushed for PREA in Connecticut after her release from prison and later co-founded the advocacy agency Once Incarcerated.

819 Reports; Few Are Substantiated

In Connecticut, there were 819 reports of sexual abuse or harassment in prisons and state-contracted judicial programs between 2015 and 2020, according to PREA data from the Connecticut Department of

Correction and the state judicial branch.

The bulk of the reports, about 72 percent, accuse another inmate or client of court programs, such as a drug rehabilitation program. Just more than 10 percent came from juveniles in the system.

About 13 percent of Connecticut reports were confirmed after being investigated. Only about 6 percent of cases across the country are substantiated, according to the most recent national data published in June. The national rates don’t include harassment figures or judicial programs, like the state figures.

“PREA” has become a common phrase in Connecticut’s prisons. The fact that people know how to report, and do so, is a positive sign, said David McNeil, the PREA Unit director for the state Department of Correction.

“The system is working,” McNeil said. “We’re getting the phone calls, the letters, the cases.”

PREA rules went into effect in 2013. That year, the state DOC began teaching staff and the prison population the new rules and bringing the buildings into compliance.

Almost a decade later, allegations of sexual assaults in prisons across the country continue to increase yearly, except for an overall decrease in 2017.

In contrast, reports in Connecticut have decreased over time, from 182 in 2015 to 94 in 2019. At the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, there were only 47 reports, a dip officials attribute to fewer interactions in the prison over the past year.

But the numbers understate the real threat, according to victim advocates, who said there is a culture of ambivalence and fear of retribution. Many reach out to Just Detention International, an advocacy group that seeks to end sex crimes behind bars.

“When we talk about a preventable tragedy, a preventable human rights crisis, it’s in these letters. It’s in the voices of survivors who call us. It’s also in the data,” said Jesse LernerKinglake, communications director for Just Detention International.

Officials said they take the law and their role to keep people safe seriously.

“It’s a balance of safety, security and personal privacy,” McNeil said. “You’re looking out for individuals in an environment that is not designed for personal privacy. You have to monitor them, but while trying to give them space to go about their everyday life.”

Atmosphere Of Acceptance

Though the law refers to “prison rape,” it covers all types of sexual misconduct and applies to courthouses and any residential facility or part of the judicial system, such as a halfway house or drug rehabilitation center. One-third of Connecticut’s reports between 2015 and 2020 came from facilities other than prisons.

Kristal Lis is one such case. She said she was violated repeatedly in 2018 by a pair of judicial marshals tasked with her transport between York Correctional and the New London Judicial District Superior Courthouse.

Lis first was plied with cigarettes for sexual favors, according to her lawsuit against one of the marshals and judicial branch administration.

The PREA coordinator for the state judicial branch declined to comment on the lawsuit.

Any sexual encounter, even consensual, between staff and inmates is a PREA violation due to the power differential.

The abuse escalated, Lis said, and she was sexually assaulted by the marshal while she was shackled and alone in the courthouse lockup. She cried and loudly told him to stop, according to her lawsuit, and he left when other staff came near.

Lis first reported the accusations a year later, staggered by the trauma of the incident and fear of retribution.

“She was retaliated against by being threatened with prison time if she continued to speak out,” said civil rights attorney Alexander Taubes of New Haven, who is representing Lis.

Lis said that after filing her PREA report, she was denied mental health services at the prison.

“I said, ‘I need counseling.’ So, I wrote reports, numerous things begging for counseling,” Lis said, “and they just wrote back saying, ‘Oh, you don’t qualify,’ ‘Take deep breaths,’ and stuff like that.”

The state data doesn’t detail demographics such as race or gender, but the highest number of reports were from York Correctional Institution, the state’s only prison for females.

Out of the more than 50 prisons and judicial programs statewide, about 24 percent of all reports were made at York.

Former York inmates describe an atmosphere of acceptance for regular, dehumanizing sexual encounters.

Tracie Bernardi, who served 23 years at York before her release in 2015, said she never reported such incidents because the odds are against prisoners.

The harassment included inappropriate comments during strip searches and unnecessary touching. Bernardi said that when drivers would help her in and out of the transport van for court dates, they often would grope her buttocks. She said she maintained a relationship with a guard who provided special benefits such as extra meals or time out of her cell.

“If I made complaints, the fear was I would lose everything while they investigated,” said Bernardi, who co-founded Once Incarcerated with Harvey in 2019. “You can’t prove it, so why even waste your time?”

Once Incarcerated receives similar reports from people still in the system. Reports can also be made anonymously through a tip line or other third parties, such as clergy, triggering the same PREA report.

Complaints about regular security pat-downs and strip searches are not covered by PREA, according to McNeil, and do not become part of the PREA data.

Mental Health Help Lacking

Advocates said one of the most egregious offenses against inmates — isolation — is done in the name of protecting them. At the start of a PREA investigation, the complainant and the accused are kept apart until the details are sorted out.

“That separation is not intended to be punitive,” said Karen Martucci, director of external affairs for the state correction department. “It’s a safety issue.”