The Ignored Heroes: Incarcerated Firefighters and LA’s Wildfire
Image courtesy: Unsplash
Apocalyptic and unfathomable. This seems the only adequate description of the current destruction wrought by wildfires in Los Angeles. The Palisades and Eaton fires are unprecedented in terms of visibility, as our phones are saturated with footage of celebrity homes reduced to rubble and the scorched Malibu coast. However, as we process the magnitude of the fires, we must also consider our valuation of loss and sacrifice. This natural disaster exposes entirely unnatural social hierarchies.
Incarcerated firefighters are working to contain threats posed to Hollywood homes. Yet coverage of the Los Angeles Fire Department omits any reference to the 700 or so inmates working alongside them. They are excluded from the label of ‘unsung hero,’ perhaps because society can’t conceive of their potential heroism, or a collective incredulity in the possibility of rehabilitation.
Criticisms of prison labour range from comparisons to chain gangs and modern slavery, to blatant denial of their contribution to society. Whilst opposition to the 13th Amendment loophole (which allows convicts to be used for free labour) is well placed, it does not necessarily apply to this particular issue. More shocking, however, is the implication that containing an inferno is preferable to being contained in a California prison cell. Indeed, former inmates likened placement in a firecamp to liberation and opportunity, rather than enslavement. This is an indictment of the conditions of California prison; prisoners are three times more likely to be murdered here than in the US overall. It is more rational and safe for inmates to fight fire than remain locked up.
The California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) operates more than 30 firecamps across the state for people serving sentences shorter than 8 years. At times, CDCR crews have constituted 30% of the wildfire force. Yet their sacrifice is mysteriously absent from press coverage. More disturbing is the collective denial of their contribution to society, or acknowledgement that they could exist in a role beyond that of cheap labour. Former members of the CDCR have described taking pride in their work, viewing it as an opportunity to ‘grow as a person’ and gain a disciplined work ethic. Dismissing all CDCR work as modern day slavery ignores its potential rehabilitative power.
The grave injustice lies in the temporary, or conditional, gratitude shown towards incarcerated firefighters. If valued at all, incarcerated workers are praised just for a moment. Besides only earning between $5.80 and $10.24 a day, they remain unacknowledged by the society they are serving. One firefighter described saving a home from destruction and fantasizing about the owners returning to it ‘unaware and unconcerned that an incarcerated fire crew had saved it.’ Once released, the training gained in firefighting carries little value. A majority of California’s fire departments require their employees to be EMT certified, a certification unavailable to most prisoners.
Prisoner skills and qualifications are utilised at the discretion of the state. When introduced back into society, this carries little value. Ironically, their time in the CDCR resembles a greater sense of career progression than that offered after serving their sentence. The logic applied when determining whether inmates are safe to respond to emergencies does not extend to them as individuals once removed from a prison setting. They serve their community, yet are barred from it upon finishing their sentence. As Los Angeles continues to burn, and fire crews continue to battle the flames, attention should be paid to America's prison system and its failure to facilitate rehabilitation.