Introduction
Though his jailers did not know it, Andrew Abraham had spent his entire life living with disabilities.
Abraham was born deaf, and his primary language was American Sign Language (“ASL”).
Like many deaf people, Abraham preferred using videoconferencing software when he needed to communicate with nondeaf people.
These facts were lost on staff at the Clackamas County Jail who, on October 23, 2015, conducted a mental health evaluation on Abraham without an ASL interpreter.
In a screening conducted entirely in spoken English, which bears little resemblance to ASL,
the deputy in charge concluded that Abraham was suicidal.
Jail staff proceeded to strip Abraham and place him on suicide watch.
Abraham spent three days in isolation without any means of communication.
Without an interpreter, he was unable to explain to medical staff that he was not only deaf but also diabetic, and he needed insulin to manage his disease.
Staff, on the other hand, repeatedly interpreted his lack of communication as a refusal of his insulin and his meals.
As a result, Abraham ended up spending days trapped without any means to get his medication.
When Abraham was finally released from jail, he filed a class action lawsuit seeking both injunctive and monetary relief for the discrimination he experienced on account of his multiple disabilities.
The facts of Abraham’s case are tragically commonplace in prisons and jails across the United States.
Disabled people are overrepresented in the U.S. incarcerated population, with roughly 40% of all incarcerated people reporting at least one disability.
These demographic realities reflect in part the fact that people targeted by the criminal legal system are far poorer and less able to access healthcare than their nonincarcerated counterparts.
Incarceration itself also takes a significant toll on disabled people, often exacerbating their disabilities or generating new ones altogether.
When a prison’s policies serve to subordinate incarcerated people on account of their disabilities, individuals have turned to legal tools like the Americans with Disabilities Act (“ADA”) and section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act (“section 504”) to sue federal, state, and local governments in charge of carceral facilities.
What is uncommon about Abraham’s lawsuit (and has resulted in its pendency before the Ninth Circuit) is the case’s nongovernmental defendant, Corizon Health. Corizon (now known as YesCare
) is one of the country’s largest private prison
healthcare companies and manages the medical care of roughly 116,000 incarcerated people throughout the United States.
Though Abraham experienced discrimination at a publicly run jail, the actual medical staff who placed Abraham in isolation and refused to provide him with his insulin were Corizon employees.
Using Oregon’s state public accommodations law, Abraham argued that the mistreatment he suffered at the hands of Corizon employees amounted to disability discrimination in a commercial enterprise.
The rise of private prison healthcare companies like Corizon in U.S. prisons, jails, and immigration detention centers has been deadly for disabled people.
It has also confounded efforts at legal redress: Title II of the ADA, which sets forth the primary disability discrimination claim brought by disabled individuals in state and local custody,
only applies to public entities.
Courts have found this definition does not extend to private corporations, even if they are contracting with a governmental entity.
For those seeking to bring a disability discrimination claim from federal custody, the consensus view among circuits is that a plaintiff can only sue a private company under section 504 if the company receives “federal financial assistance,” or subsidies from the federal government that go beyond mere compensation.
These statutory barriers in both the ADA and section 504 prevent disabled plaintiffs from bringing discrimination lawsuits against the companies that, as in the case of Abraham and countless others, perpetrate—and often profit off—their mistreatment.
As the face of disability discrimination changes in carceral facilities, so should the legal remedies that hold them to account. This Note therefore seeks to build the case that incarcerated individuals with disabilities can utilize Title III of the ADA and state public accommodations laws to bring disability discrimination claims against private medical corporations. Part I outlines the current remedial framework for disability discrimination claims and its application to the carceral context. Part II discusses the shortcomings of this framework in responding to the increasing privatization of prison healthcare. Against this legal backdrop, Part III proposes a framework for disability discrimination claims against prison healthcare companies. It surveys potential challenges to Title III’s applicability to prisons and, using both federal and state antidiscrimination law, outlines the affirmative case for a public accommodations theory of private prison healthcare, as well as the advantages of such an approach.