Sunday, November 02, 2008
Looking Back
Submitted by ex-correctional worker.
I still often think of those days when I worked behind the gates and walls. A lot of the people skills I learned in prison I have learned to apply in the free world, because in every place of work there are always difficult people to contend with. During those years of working in a cauldron of human personalities and characters I learned to communicate in every type of situation. My past experience gives me confidence when I talk to supervisors, and I am able to articulate myself with my coworkers.
What I find most interesting about myself is that it is really easy for me to communicate with people of all races and to break down the barriers that society has created because of the differences in our skin color. I see apprehension and tension sometimes between white folks and others at work. We all work together, but I sense the discomfort and the invisible barriers that exist. Because of my experience working in institutions, I am able to transcend those barriers and communicate with them without any discomfort. It is like having magic glasses. I see their initial discomfort when they first meet me and then I see that discomfort melt away when we begin to talk, work, and hang out together.
Yes, I do think about my old job with pride. Sometimes I really miss it. It was a unique profession and now that it is behind me I think of all of the valuable lessons I learned there, the very special people I worked with, and the very important work that is accomplished in a job where at times it feels like you are doing nothing. I truly respect Correctional Workers. No street Police Officer or any other type of Law Enforcement profession is like Corrections. It is its own world set apart from the rest. I know that when I was there I didn’t feel that way. Many who work in that environment don't realize that what they do, what they see, and what they experience is unlike any other job out there. Correctional Workers deserve a lot more respect than they get and they deserve a lot more pay than they receive. The reason why so many folks on the outside barely know that they exist and what they go through is because they do their jobs so well. They should claim their “invisibility” as a sign of a job well done. I pray for their safety and happiness.
I still often think of those days when I worked behind the gates and walls. A lot of the people skills I learned in prison I have learned to apply in the free world, because in every place of work there are always difficult people to contend with. During those years of working in a cauldron of human personalities and characters I learned to communicate in every type of situation. My past experience gives me confidence when I talk to supervisors, and I am able to articulate myself with my coworkers.
What I find most interesting about myself is that it is really easy for me to communicate with people of all races and to break down the barriers that society has created because of the differences in our skin color. I see apprehension and tension sometimes between white folks and others at work. We all work together, but I sense the discomfort and the invisible barriers that exist. Because of my experience working in institutions, I am able to transcend those barriers and communicate with them without any discomfort. It is like having magic glasses. I see their initial discomfort when they first meet me and then I see that discomfort melt away when we begin to talk, work, and hang out together.
Yes, I do think about my old job with pride. Sometimes I really miss it. It was a unique profession and now that it is behind me I think of all of the valuable lessons I learned there, the very special people I worked with, and the very important work that is accomplished in a job where at times it feels like you are doing nothing. I truly respect Correctional Workers. No street Police Officer or any other type of Law Enforcement profession is like Corrections. It is its own world set apart from the rest. I know that when I was there I didn’t feel that way. Many who work in that environment don't realize that what they do, what they see, and what they experience is unlike any other job out there. Correctional Workers deserve a lot more respect than they get and they deserve a lot more pay than they receive. The reason why so many folks on the outside barely know that they exist and what they go through is because they do their jobs so well. They should claim their “invisibility” as a sign of a job well done. I pray for their safety and happiness.
"What Am I Doing Here?"
Submitted by anonymous correctional employee.
It was May of 1988. The H.R. department called me and offered me a job as a Correctional Officer. I was 20 years old and I thought, "This is cool, I get to be the police." I got my uniforms, and started on shift the next night. No basic training, not for another 6 months. They just told me to show up for work at 2300 hours. My second night on the job, while conducting a shakedown of a common inmate area, I found a freshly sharpened 10 inch shank. I thought to myself, "What am I doing here?" 20 years later, 2 great supportive parents, 2 awesome kids, 2 divorces, the loss of 5 fellow correctional officers, God only knows how many shift changes (I think 16 times), 4 promotions and numerous inmate on staff assaults, including 5 on myself, and to add to that, high blood pressure and PTSD, and I still ask myself "What am I doing here?"Over the past 20 years, I've been constantly asking myself why I do what I do. Do I do it for the money, the prestige, the notoriety? I sure don't do it for the glory because there ain't no glory in this line of work.I come to work every day and put up with verbally assaultive inmates, physically assaultive inmates, hard-to-deal-with unhappy co-workers, and then there's my family who wants me to stay home with them because they miss me and don't want me to leave them, or there are days when I just dread coming to work because I know it's going to be another one of those days. I again ask myself, "What am I doing here?"
It was May of 1988. The H.R. department called me and offered me a job as a Correctional Officer. I was 20 years old and I thought, "This is cool, I get to be the police." I got my uniforms, and started on shift the next night. No basic training, not for another 6 months. They just told me to show up for work at 2300 hours. My second night on the job, while conducting a shakedown of a common inmate area, I found a freshly sharpened 10 inch shank. I thought to myself, "What am I doing here?" 20 years later, 2 great supportive parents, 2 awesome kids, 2 divorces, the loss of 5 fellow correctional officers, God only knows how many shift changes (I think 16 times), 4 promotions and numerous inmate on staff assaults, including 5 on myself, and to add to that, high blood pressure and PTSD, and I still ask myself "What am I doing here?"Over the past 20 years, I've been constantly asking myself why I do what I do. Do I do it for the money, the prestige, the notoriety? I sure don't do it for the glory because there ain't no glory in this line of work.I come to work every day and put up with verbally assaultive inmates, physically assaultive inmates, hard-to-deal-with unhappy co-workers, and then there's my family who wants me to stay home with them because they miss me and don't want me to leave them, or there are days when I just dread coming to work because I know it's going to be another one of those days. I again ask myself, "What am I doing here?"
