Prisons don’t just punish the incarcerated; they feel the perverse need to punish their families, too.
For elderly parents, disabled visitors, and loved ones trying to hold onto the thin thread of human connection, the so-called “visitation experience” is often another form of cruelty disguised as security.
Take the words of my friend Sherryl, a 72-year-old mother who recently tried to visit her son at Wakulla Correctional Institution in Florida. Her experience reveals just how deliberately inhospitable America’s prison system has become; not just for those inside, but for those who refuse to give up on them.
Starving the Visitors
Sherryl arrived prepared to spend the day with her son. But instead of a welcoming space where families can share a meal, she was met with nothing but rows of vending machines filled with processed junk: chips, sodas, candy, pasteurized drinks.
For a 72-year-old woman on a walker, battling sarcopenia (age-related muscle loss), this wasn’t just inconvenient; it was dangerous. She needs protein and real nutrition to stay on her feet. Instead, she went the entire day without food or water.
The cruelty here is intentional. By stripping away the possibility of a healthy meal, the prison system sends a clear message: family bonds aren’t valued, health isn’t valued, and your suffering doesn’t matter.
It also violates the American’s With Disability Act (ADA), which could result in major fines for the facility. I’m shocked that staff haven’t already tried to sue them, actually.
Silenced by Noise
Inside Wakulla CI, inmates and visitors sit on opposite sides of the table, the room buzzing with voices bouncing off concrete walls. For Sherryl, already struggling with hearing loss, it meant she couldn’t hear a single word her son said.
She tried again the next day outside, roasting under the Florida sun, only to face a new barrier: the wind. Her hearing aids whistled and screeched, making communication impossible.
Think about that; after waiting months for a visit, after traveling and enduring searches, after sacrificing comfort, she still couldn’t even hear her son’s voice.
Systemic Neglect Disguised as Order
Prisons like Wakulla claim these visitation rules are about order and security. But what they really do is strip away humanity. No shared meal. No private conversation. No real connection. For elderly and disabled visitors, the obstacles multiply:
- Nutrition barriers: Healthy food options are nonexistent.
- ADA Accessibility barriers: Walkers, hearing aids, and mobility needs are ignored in violation of Federal Law.
- Communication barriers: Noise, wind, and structural design prevent meaningful conversation.
Families aren’t asking for luxuries; they’re asking for basic dignity. A chair that’s comfortable. A healthy meal option. A quiet space to hear your child.
No one is asking for the moon, here.
The Bigger Picture
The suffering of people like Sherryl Skinner exposes how mass incarceration doesn’t just confine those inside; it ripples outward, punishing entire families. This is how the system breaks people down: make the visits miserable, and maybe fewer loved ones will come. Fewer witnesses. Less accountability.
But here’s the truth: family connection is one of the strongest predictors of successful reentry. By sabotaging visits, the prison system undermines rehabilitation and makes communities less safe.
Advocacy in Action
If Sherryl’s story makes you angry, it should. Families should not be starved, silenced, or humiliated at prison gates.
Elderly parents and family members should not be forced to starve, suffer, or sit in silence just to see their loved ones.
Florida must take immediate steps to ensure dignity in visitation:
- Require prisons to provide at least one healthy, protein-rich meal option during visitation.
- Ensure ADA compliance in visitation rooms for hearing, mobility, and dietary needs.
- Design visitation areas that allow families to actually communicate.
Because justice isn’t just about how we treat the incarcerated; it’s about how we treat the people who love them.
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