Clothed in her finest attire, a splash of vibrant pink and a tutu donned in the hues of a rainbow, Crystal Martinez’s youngest child offers her a bouquet, a kaleidoscope of faux flowers designed from delicate tissue papers. Her eldest son, a five-year-old, perches on her lap, his joyous laughter echoing throughout their surrounding space. Martinez reaches out, wrapping her arms around her small daughter and drawing her into a fond embrace so strong, it jostles her glasses out of place. Despite the color and cheer of the flowers, she notes: ‘I don’t want the flowers, I want you!’, while cherishing the warmth of her children’s presence.
Her brood of five, with ages spanning from 4 to 13, undertook a three-hour journey from their home in Chicago last month to meet their mother. The meeting took place inside the confines of Logan Correctional, a prison that hosts the largest number of female and transgender inmates in Illinois. The children’s journey was facilitated by Reunification Ride, an initiative that relies on donations to arrange monthly bus trips for the families of the imprisoned, bridging the 180-mile gap between Chicago and Logan. It provides them an opportunity to spend quality time with their mothers or grandmothers.
With the advent of the COVID-19 pandemic, the incarcerated female population in America saw a significant decrease by several tens of thousands. However, as we witness a return to conventional operations within the criminal justice system and prison numbers gradually resurge to pre-pandemic levels, an increase in child-mother separations becomes inevitable. This situation exacerbates the risk of various health issues and behavioral complications among these children. Additionally, their heightened vulnerability could expose them to potential misuse, neglect, and displacement.
The issue of incarceration disproportionately impacts Black and Hispanic women as compared to their white counterparts. These communities bear the brunt of family disintegration due to the higher rates of imprisoned members. These separations challenge not only the emotional stability of the families but add to the struggles that already burden these marginalized communities.
This Tuesday saw 107 individuals voicing their grievances against the state; they stand accused of turning a blind eye to rampant sexual abuse in Illinois’ juvenile detention facilities. This new wave of complainants follows in the footsteps of approximately 800 previous victims who, over a period of 14 months, launched a series of lawsuits. This collective outcry uncovers deep-rooted issues within these juvenile facilities.
Among these victims is Charles Graves who has been living with the traumatic memories of his encounters as a 13-year-old in the Illinois juvenile correctional system. He alleges that he was assaulted by three security personnel while under their care. The nightmare was further prolonged when Graves recently made a visit to a juvenile facility, only to find a still-serving female guard – the same officer accused of abusing him a quarter-century ago.
Complaints such as these were duly registered in the Cook County Circuit Court as well as the Illinois Court of Claims. They shed light on the alleged instances of abuse happening in scattered youth centers across the state, including Chicago’s Cook County Juvenile Temporary Detention Center. The individuals who underwent these purported assaults were minors at the time, falling within the age bracket of 9 to 17.
Among the litany of victims, more than half reported incidents of abuse dating back to the decade between 2000 and 2009. With a majority of victims being male (86%), these allegations point to a pervasive issue running deep under the surface of the state’s juvenile detention facilities.
At a latest press conference, 31-year-old Michael Moss, a Chicago resident and a self-proclaimed victim, bravely faced the limelight. Among the flood of complaints filed on Tuesday, he was one of 15 individuals accusing Rocky James, the current Eldorado Mayor, of sexual abuse. James, with a long-standing service of almost three decades at the Illinois Youth Center in Harrisburg, stands right in the eye of this storm.
Several complainants accuse James of conducting a rule of terror at the Harrisburg youth center, where he allegedly distressed and manipulated minors over a 12-year span. One distressed victim narrated his horrific encounter where James allegedly restrained him to his bed with handcuffs only to proceed with numerous sexual offenses. Allegations also surface of forced oral sex and forced masturbation.
In addition to these horrific acts, James is said to have used various incentives like sweets, cigarettes and even the promise of early release as leverage to maintain the silence of his victims. James, however, has categorically denied these charges when reached for comment via phone call.
Among the alleged victims is Kate-Lynn (name confirmed), who alleges she was mistreated by guards at a youth center in Warrenville when she was a minor. Kate-Lynn was removed from educational programs and spent an entire year isolated in solitary confinement, only allowed fleeting moments outside of her cell daily. An emotional Kate-Lynn recounted traumatic experiences with numerous staff members who would come to her cell and forcibly undress her.
Particularly distressing was her account of an incident involving a significantly larger man who sat atop her nude body, assaulting her. Kate-Lynn, currently 26-years old and residing in Topeka, contends with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and anxiety disorder, repercussions from her time in juvenile detention.
On the legal front, the attorney general’s office moved to dismiss 430 pending cases of alleged abuse on June 9. For change to occur, it is essential that victims like Moss raise their voices and break their silence. As children, they were repeatedly told that no one would heed their calls. Now, Moss, like many others, is justifiably demanding to be heard.
While the legal battlefield rages on, it is essential to remember that these are not simply cases but stories of individuals who have endured horrendous experiences. Their voices, their persistence and insistence for justice, is a call not only for accountability but also for systemic change to regulations that have allowed such abuses to occur.