His first hit of K2 was offered up as a birthday present, “a way to escape, to leave the monotonous state I found myself in,’’ Iran Diaz wrote in a letter to Correction Commissioner Shawn Jenkins. “Little did I know it was the beginning of a whirlwind in addiction.’’
At the time, 2015, Diaz was serving a life sentence at Norfolk state prison for a 1991 double homicide.
It was the beginning of a downward spiral — of days in solitary for using or being found with paraphernalia and loss of nearly everything he owned, everything that could be sold or traded to buy more of the drug — a keyboard, headphones, sneakers.
K2, a highly addictive cannabinoid, came to rule his life.
“In this [prison] compound there is so much of it,’’ he wrote, “it is an epidemic in every sense of the word.’’
And despite efforts to control the flow of the easy-to-hide, tiny drug-laced papers used to deliver the substance, prisoners report it is not difficult to acquire — and hard to avoid. As recently as last week Old Colony Correctional Center in Bridgewater was on lockdown, according to two attorneys with clients in the system, while correctional officers searched for drugs, drug paraphernalia, and information.
The epidemic of K2 in Massachusetts prisons was documented in a recent Globe report. An analysis of test data of samples taken in state-run prisons and provided by the Drugs of Abuse Laboratory at UMass Chan Medical School found the number of positive tests for K2 rose from 232 in 2022 to 423 in 2023. The 2024 data is not yet available.
The maximum security Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center tops the list of positive cannabinoid tests with 366 from 2019 to August of this year.
The state corrections system is “dealing with a large number of inmate medical emergencies, overdoses, and assaults on staff and inmates due to the drug distribution networks infiltrating the prison system,’’ DOC conceded in a recent state court filing.
For those who overdose or get caught with drugs or paraphernalia, “Well you go to the hole [solitary confinement — or as it is known in the prison system, the Behavioral Assessment Unit],’’ said Patty DeJuneas, an attorney who represents Diaz and others in parole and commutation matters. “And later you get to go back to your cell and smoke some more.’’
Diaz, now at Souza-Baranowski, has been sober since August. But it hasn’t been easy.
The Correction Department “is only focused on supply, when you’ve got to focus on the demand side and try treating people who are so desperate they’ll do anything’’ for their drug of choice, DeJuneas told the editorial board.
K2 has become ubiquitous because it is relatively easy to get into prisons and to consume. It starts out as a liquid that can be sprayed on paper — a letter, a greeting card — cut into 1-inch squares, passed easily by a visitor (say, even in a kiss). It can be smoked or ingested. Those papers can also be laced with fentanyl and other strong drugs, posing a risk to inmates who use it and correction officers who may come in contact with the drug itself or have to deal with a user in the throes of a hallucinatory episode.
Massachusetts isn’t alone in fighting the K2 epidemic in prisons. It has become a national scourge with huge systems; those in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Florida are attempting to tackle the issue. The initial weapon in the fight has been stemming the flow via mail. Some of the larger prison systems spend millions of dollars each year to digitize prisoners’ mail. Massachusetts began photocopying mail — except that coming from attorneys — in 2018.
Visitors are monitored, drug-sniffing dogs are used, and prison officials say they are observing drones they suspect are being used to drop packages near the prisons. Last month a corrections officer was arrested for allegedly bringing 45 strips of drug-laced paper into MCI-Shirley. Roxsandra Wright was charged with delivering contraband worth more than $500,000 to a prisoner there. Wright had filed resignation papers prior to her arrest.
DOC recently expanded efforts to deal with prisoners who enter the system addicted to opioids, contracting with a private vendor, Spectrum Health Systems, which offers medical options for dealing with opioid use disorder.
And DOC also runs a Correctional Recovery Academy, which provides a six-month residential drug treatment program with an educational component. And while it has shown results in lowering recidivism rates, it is only offered at four prisons.
“The Massachusetts Department of Correction remains deeply committed to advancing rehabilitation and reducing recidivism by providing its incarcerated population with evidence-based programming and strategic interventions that support an individual’s rehabilitative journey and promote successful reentry,’’ a DOC spokesman said in a statement.
“Most of my clients say the [CRA] program is outdated and not individualized treatment,’’ said attorney Lisa Newman-Polk. And those clients have told her, even the CRA is far from a drug-free environment when it comes to K2 use.
“DOC spends an enormous amount of money on security and monitoring for drugs,’’ Newman-Polk said, “and yet they are still flooded with drugs and won’t invest in treatment. It’s the War on Drugs all over again.’’
That was more than 50 years ago — and a program that was unsuccessful on the outside is proving just as unsuccessful inside prisons.
Newman-Polk, a clinician in the state prison system earlier in her career, said, “Substance use disorder is one of the most complicated health conditions to treat, and yet we’re having people with little or no training deal with it.’’
Corrections officers get trained in Narcan use, but little else.
Diaz, in his letter to the commissioner, begged for more options.
“How do I get sober when everywhere I go there is K2,’’ he wrote, pleading for a “sober unit’’ and “therapeutic programming … to help quell this epidemic for those men who are serious about our sobriety.’’
Massachusetts has such a small correctional system — the inmate population runs around 6,000 — that if any state could get a handle on its drug problem it should be this one. But it takes more than prison lockdowns and drug-sniffing dogs. It takes a system with a serious investment in treatment and in helping those who are ready and willing to turn their lives around.
Editorials represent the views of the Boston Globe Editorial Board. Follow us @GlobeOpinion.
