Care packages considered

Turning to the positive, one of the more encouraging outcomes of news that our minimum-security incarceration facility is being converted to federal use is that individuals on both sides of the aisle—conservative and liberal alike—have asked whether it might be possible to provide care packages for detainees. The idea is reminiscent of the North Platte Canteen of World War II, when Nebraskans from North Platte and surrounding communities gathered to provide home-cooked meals and encouragement to soldiers passing through by train. That our community would even ask the question says something about our character, our historically independent splash of purple in a sea of red.

At a time when the national debate over immigration is as bitterly divided as ever, it is worth noting that some still find common ground in offering kindness to those who are otherwise strangers.

To better understand whether such an effort would be possible here, we looked at five operating detention centers and one new expansion. Each facility offers some lessons, though few display the kind of organized hospitality that our community remembers from North Platte.

Delaney Hall in Newark, N.J., reopened in May under GEO Group with about 1,000 beds, funded by a $1 billion contract. Camp East Montana at Fort Bliss, Texas, opened in August with 1,000 beds and plans to expand to 5,000. In the Florida Everglades, the tent-based “Alligator Alcatraz” opened July 3 with 2,000 beds, though environmental lawsuits may yet close it. Camp 57, carved out of the Angola penitentiary in Louisiana, began holding detainees this month with capacity for about 400, a site openly described as a deterrent. The so-called “Speedway Slammer” in Indiana, actually the Miami Correctional Facility in Miami County, (yes, there is a Miami in Indiana) will soon provide 1,000 beds through an agreement with ICE. And in Georgia, the Folkston Processing Center is being expanded with nearly $50 million in funding to more than 3,000 beds.

What we found is that humanitarian efforts are limited at best, and usually thwarted by security regulations. For practical reasons, anything provided to detainees must be screened and approved. In some cases, unopened hygiene kits or paperback books are collected through churches or nonprofits and passed along after inspection.

More often, legal and pastoral visits are permitted under formal arrangements. Funds may also be donated to nonprofits that maintain commissary accounts, phone cards or hygiene supplies for detainees.

What is not allowed under any circumstances is the defining feature of the North Platte Canteen—baked goods. Because of health concerns and the potential for contraband, home-prepared food is forbidden. ICE detention standards are explicit: visitors may not bring food or drink for detainees.

We did find one notable example of organized compassion worth studying further. At Delaney Hall in New Jersey, a coalition of faith groups and volunteers has focused not only on detainees but on their families. They provide shade and water for long visitor lines, toys for children, clothing and shoes for those turned away at the door, and guidance through the maze of visitation rules.

Yes, ICE detainees do get visitors, and in Newark at least, the visitors receive hospitality. And while our community may not be able to send baked goods inside the walls, the lesson from Delaney Hall is that there is still room to meet people at the gate. Look for a deeper dive on those efforts in an upcoming issue.