Pubdate: Sun, 27 Feb 2005 Source: Mobile Register (AL) Copyright: 2005 Mobile Register Contact: http://www.al.com/mobileregister/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/269 Author: Brendan Kirby Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/prison.htm (Incarceration) ALTERNATE CORRECTIONS PROGRAMS HAVE BASE OF SUPPORT Officials charged with fixing Alabama's prison overcrowding face a simple yet vexing math problem: For every inmate they let out early, there is more than one to take his place. That's why many experts contend that even as the state seeks to speed the early release of prisoners, it cannot solve the problem without doing a better job preventing people from passing through prison walls in the first place. But no one wants to let convicts off easy. As a result, a concept known as "community corrections" -- an intermediate form of punishment between probation and prison -- enjoys growing popularity with a wide range of criminal justice officials. The locally run programs place convicts under intense supervision, with strict work requirements and drug testing. In a few jurisdictions, counties have facilities where the convicts live during times when they are not at work. "The trick of criminal justice is to do something with offenders so that they are no longer offenders. And that's always more effective closer to home," said Robert Sigler, a criminal justice professor at the University of Alabama. The Alabama Sentencing Commission has backed community corrections as a key component of its reform agenda. Judges have expressed satisfaction at having more choices when sentencing defendants. A master plan developed by the Department of Corrections encourages it. Even district attorneys appear united in favor of community corrections. The problem, however, is that such programs have limited reach. More than a decade after the concept was introduced in Alabama, 24 community corrections programs serve 30 of the state's 67 counties. "I can remember when I started, we had 12 programs in 15 counties," said Joseph A. Mahoney, the director of Mobile's program. "Now we have 30 counties and 24 programs. So we're inching along." Under a program in which the Department of Corrections pays community corrections programs for each convicted felon diverted from a state prison, Alabama stopped about 2,000 people from entering penitentiaries in the 2004 fiscal year. Mahoney said the actual number is much greater. The state, using a formula, pays only for inmates whose crimes and backgrounds make it likely judges would have handed down sentences of prison, rather than probation. But many of the programs' participants who do not meet those criteria likely would have been sentenced to prison as well, he said. Rosa Davis, the state's chief assistant attorney general and a member of the Sentencing Commission, said she thinks Alabama could increase the official number of convicts diverted from prison to 5,000 a year by expanding community corrections to unserved counties. Mahoney, who also serves as president of the Alabama Association of Community Corrections Programs, said the number might be even higher -- perhaps as many as 6,000 a year. Cutting prison admissions by an additional 4,000 a year would not eliminate overcrowding by itself, backers acknowledge. But it would make a dent, cutting the population from about 185 percent of the system's capacity to about 155 percent. Mobile's was one of the earliest programs in Alabama, created by a 1991 local legislative act. It has about 550 convicted felons and another 1,500 people convicted of misdemeanors. Rather than serving time in prison or the county jail, though, participants work at jobs during the day and remain under house arrest at night. Fees paid by participants help pay for the system. Although similar to state probation, Mahoney said, community corrections programs are locally run and, thus, provide greater flexibility. He said they also place a greater emphasis on drug treatment and matching participants with education, jobs and job-training programs. "Our programs are much more involved in rehabilitation or habilitiation, or the people-fixing end of things," he said. Community corrections administrators maintain the programs are more successful than prison at preventing convicted criminals from re-offending, although they have no hard data to back up that claim. Mahoney said they are developing a system to track participants for several years after completing the programs. In Mobile County's community corrections program, a counselor passes out want ads and offers tips for getting and keeping jobs three times a week. Carole Roberts, a probation officer for the program, said participants often struggle with drug abuse, a lack of reliable transportation and old-fashioned laziness. All add up to serious roadblocks to employment, and a stable job is the most important key to rehabilitation, she said. "This is one of the biggest battles. ... If we can solve this problem, we can make a real difference," she said. "It's difficult to start at the bottom. They don't want to make $7 an hour. They think they should make $15." Shelby County's community corrections program, which began in May 2000 in suburban Birmingham, is one of the few in the state with a residential facility. Deborah Reeves, the program's director, said the facility has space for 74 men and 24 women. The program charges fees for supervision and drug testing, like in Mobile. To pay for housing inmates overnight, it also takes 40 percent of their incomes. The fees paid by participants have been important politically since they keep costs down for local governments, Reeves said. But she added that taking such a high percentage of an income makes it harder for a convict to succeed. "The idea is to get him on his feet, not drown him financially," she said. "None of us have had the support that we really, really need (from government)." Community corrections programs do not enjoy universal support, at least the way they are constructed in Alabama. Baldwin County District Attorney David Whetstone said they merely offer state officials an opportunity to shift the burden of incarcerating convicted criminals onto local communities. Whetstone said he believes the payment offered by the Department of Corrections -- ranging from $5 to $15 per inmate each day -- is too low and that the criteria for determining when a program is eligible for reimbursement is too narrow. "We should not take on state prisoners unless the state pays us to take on state prisoners," he said. Supporters, though, said community corrections programs are far more cost-effective than state prisons. In Shelby County, for instance, community corrections costs about $11 per inmate each day. The daily per-inmate cost in a state prison is about $26. Mahoney said he believes changing criminal behavior works best in local environments. Most lawbreakers will stay out of trouble if they can beat addiction and find jobs, he said. "Who needs work-release centers when community corrections can handle it?" he said. The state paid nearly $2.9 million in fiscal year 2004 to community corrections programs for diverting people who otherwise would have gone to prison. The cost to house them in a penitentiary would have exceeded $7.8 million, Mahoney said. But Davis, the assistant attorney general, said those are not real savings. The $7.8 million figure comes from multiplying the annual per-inmate incarceration rate by the number of felons sent to community corrections. But she said most of the prison system's costs are fixed, she said. "You can't save money in the penitentiary, because there ain't no money to save," she said. And Mahoney conceded that even if community corrections programs existed in every corner of the state and worked to maximum effect, they would barely make a dent in the state's overcrowded prisons. "Community corrections is only one part of the solution," he said. "It's not just a matter of where you put people. It's a matter of how you sentence them, too." - --- MAP posted-by: Beth