Mental health crisis overflows into jail cells

KIRSTEN MURPHY

The shortfalls of Nunavut’s mental health system are burdening the territory’s jail and police cells.

The lack of care workers and beds for the mentally ill was discussed at workshop on mental health and the law in Iqaluit May 10 and 11. Judges, lawyers, doctors, elders and educators attended the meeting.

About 20 to 30 people with chronic mental illness are known to the medical community in Nunavut, said psychiatrist Dr. Sam Law. Law sees patients on a short-term consultation basis at Baffin Regional Hospital.

Hard-to-treat patients with schizophrenia and bipolar disorders, for example, may fall into criminal trouble while away from friends and family, Law said.

From there, clients end up at Baffin Correctional Centre, which is chronically overcrowded and not designed to deal with mentally ill clients, said Kim Ross, deputy warden at BCC.

The prison’s 66-bed facility is currently overpopulated by 10 to 25 inmates, she said. Overflow prisoners sleep on the floor.

A segregated unit with six beds for mental health clients has its own problems.

“Not only do our mental health offenders end up in this smaller unit, but they are housed with people needing protective custody and with people with behavior problems. You’re throwing three distinct groups into a very small space and it makes very dangerous situations for inmates and for the staff,” Ross said.

She estimated more than half of BCC’s population has an identifiable mental disorder. The absence of a specialized long-term facility, means the same people keep filtering through the justice system.

“Nunavut has a psychiatric hospital. It’s called BCC,” quipped Justice Richard Schneider, an Ontario judge and member of the Nunavut Review Board.

The department of health recently announced funding to expand the Pulaarvik mental health day program into an overnight facility.

Mentally ill homeless people outside BCC often end up staying in jail cells — especially in winter — because it’s the only safe space available to them, said Cpl. Ed Anderson from Pangnirtung.

Transition shelters like the Oqota emergency shelter and Qimaavik women’s shelter ban people with known violent behavior. The ban protects shelter clients but limits housing options for mentally ill people.

Both health and justice officials agreed clearer roles of responsibility are needed.

The comments raised will be compiled and handed to various government departments, workshop organizers said.

At one point, people broke into small groups and discussed topics ranging from suicide to government policies.

The workshop introduced the Nunavut Review Board to the public. The three-year-old board is composed of 18 members, including forensic psychiatrists, lawyers, judges and elders.

The boards steps into criminal matters when an inmate is deemed not criminally responsible to stand trial.

Five of the 18 members are from Nunavut. The other 13 members are from Alberta and Ontario, the two provinces Nunavut has health service agreements with.

The workshop was not without criticism. Maureen Doherty, the executive director of the Nunavut Status of Women Council and Dr. Sam Malcolmson with the Clarke Institute of Psychiatry, noted the absence of women on the “Family and Community Perspectives” panel.

Oolootie Koonoo, one of two social workers in Pangnirtung, considered skipping the meeting.

“These issues have been discussed before and you have to wonder what’s going to be gained from it. We are invited to these meetings and there are so many people and hardly any other Inuit coming from the communities. Sometimes it’s pretty discouraging to see,” Koonoo said.

Justice Beverley Browne, one of the workshop’s key organizers, called the event “no-frills.” She said organizers did the best they could with limited time and money.