She was a prison guard stabbed to death back in 2012, but now her name will live on in a new prison complex in Pine Bluff dedicated to her memory. And quite a complex it is, too. This minimum-security unit includes a veterans' barracks for all five branches of the armed services where these male inmates can encourage each other when they wonder if they'll ever make it in the free world. Instead of being abandoned as soon as they walk out the gates.
Every inmate at this new unit will be eligible for training in how to manage his anger and find a job on the outside. There'll be a library complete with 11 computers he can use for legal research as well as help in finding work. The bookshelves were empty on Dedication Day but should soon be filling up with reference material, for help is on the way. Indeed, it's materializing even now. Scores of inmates are busy constructing the new addition, which will include an infirmary for prisoners who have come down with less than life-threatening ailments. It all sounds like a model of prison reform for prisoners who very much need reforming. Especially through their own efforts. And it's being welcomed by folks in Pine Bluff--and beyond.
To quote state Senator Stephanie Flowers of Pine Bluff on the new addition, "I think it's much needed and I'm happy to see it . . . . I think it provides a transition for those who are leaving incarceration into the free world." They're all marked men anyway thanks to their prison records; why not mark them for special help and consideration instead of obloquy?
It would be hard to think of a more appropriate memorial to Barbara Ester, for she was devoted not just to her job but to the best interests of her charges. And her job wasn't easy. Yet she took only a couple of vacations during her 12 years as a warder. As her daughter, Fannie Dukes Nichols, recalled: "She was afraid to be by herself" at home or while driving, "but she loved to go behind those bars to be with those inmates." Maybe because her job was less of a job than a calling. A vocation, the nuns call it. And those of us who don't envy the burden she assumed can be thankful there are people in this world like her.
Change for the better is in the works throughout the state's prison system, and for good reason. For example, the state's Department of Correction is shutting down its boot camp because too many of those who've gone through it turn out to be repeat offenders. The bunk beds they'll leave behind can be put to much better use, like housing prisoners. Why add to the chronic problems of overcrowded and ineffective prisons?
Over the past decade, the number of inmates in the state's prisons has grown by a third. They numbered 18,000 last month. And that number is headed for 21,000 by 2023. Unless more reforms are introduced and prove effective.
Other states are catching on to how their boot camps work, too, or rather don't. About a third of them across the country had been shut down by 2000, mainly because experience had demonstrated they were a waste of time, money and effort. Yes, they may have improved some inmates' skills and general behavior. But they didn't help most of the inmates stay out of prison. They kept coming back.
Barbara Ester devoted her life to straightening out her charges. Now it's the people of Arkansas' turn to pick up the torch and guide them onto a better path in life. For all these prison programs, whether good or bad, are being carried out in our name.
Editorial on 08/30/2016