My time in a correctional facility
Recently, a student asked for my assistance in guidance to produce an essay on the “economics of incarceration” in the United States, specifically, for the state of Virginia. The request brought back distant memories of my one-year employment with the Virginia Department of Corrections (VADOC).
My reminiscences of that year were not painful, but rather pleasant. Not painful, with the exception of our uniform “Corfam” dress-shoes made by DuPont. The shoes were plastic coated black sheen that you didn’t have to polish. However, the disadvantage was that most of us were on our feet all day long and there was no breathing room, which led to persistent aching.
As a new Christian-leaning correctional officer, I was respectful and kind to the inmates. I thought it was bad enough that they had so much time to serve, so why should I add to their mental or physical uneasiness. The prison population was approximately 700-900 and I knew by face and first name approximately 300 of the prisoners. One day I was called in by the superintendent and ordered not to address the prisoners by their first names, but to address them as “Inmate Jones, Inmate Smith, Inmate Lee, etc.” I complied.
Once, I was assigned to mailroom duty. We were required to open each letter, card or package addressed to the inmates. The idea was to confiscate cash money or contraband. Some officers took what should not have been an allowable margin of freedom to read entire personal letters and violate the inmates’ privacy. Any cash monies were immediately put on their concession accounts. Permissible goods or merchandise were forwarded the same day. However, any tangible property was engraved with a Dremel handheld electric engraver. It was noticeable that most officers did not care to be artistic when etching the name and serial number on the property. I once saw a fine, lacquered-based, expensive either Fender or Gibson guitar unceremoniously disfigured with less than amateur skill, a real “tyro” at work!
Please understand that once you passed through the double gates you, too, were locked up for eight hours. Thus, you were subject to any emergency or disastrous event within the confined institutional compound. We never did have any prison uprising riot like the one at Attica prison in New York in 1971, wherein 33 inmates died along with 10 correctional officers and staff, or the 1980 New Mexico State Penitentiary riot with 33 deaths. The Virginia Department of Corrections offered better living conditions.
I now make special mention of what my mother told us nine sibling rebellious-rebel boys. “Don’t you dare do anything to set you in prison. If you do, I will never ever visit you!” I guess her stern reprimand kept us out of prison, although it did not keep us out of an overnight stay in the city jail. In our youth, we were mean with repellent characteristics like ill temper that sometimes surfaced, and thus misdemeanors were applied.
As a final note, in good standing I resigned my position with VADOC. It was a fateful decision. The job market at the time was really weak. It took me an entire year to land employment again and all my previous savings were not saved.
The author(wrjones@vsu.edu) published the novella “Beyond Harvard” and teaches English as a second language.