Some Heroes are Correctional Officers

I know, I know. We hear a million stories about how neglectful, abusive, and down-right mean correctional officers can be. Those stories are no doubt true. Given that a correctional agency hires a few thousand CO’s, the odds that all are going to be altruistic and kind are slim to none. The trick, right, is to cull out the bad actors and hire for a culture of rehabilitation and humane treatment. These are topics for another Sunday Morning Coffee, because as you can probably guess, I have some definite opinions (and solutions) for that kind of mess.

But today, I want to focus on the good eggs. The people in uniform who truly want the criminal justice and carceral system in this country to be better…to do better.

As another week has gone by with the passing of an officer who, in my life, was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark place, I’ve been reflecting on the role of CO’s and the fact that we lose folks to illness, no doubt spurred by stress and fatigue (yet another topic of conversation). I was thinking this morning of a story a dear friend and member of my team told me once.

My friend was incarcerated, and in fact had spent most of his life, at that point, going in and out of prison. He wasn’t a new face where he was living. He knew most of the staff, and according to him, they’d seen him grown up. Raised him, in some cases.

A food service worker approached him in his living quarters one day and asked if he’d been tested for thyroid disease. Surprised, he said no. She told him she recognized some symptoms and felt like he might be in danger of being seriously ill, maybe even to the point of losing his life. He dismissed her, thinking some of the ‘symptoms’ she listed were due to a crappy lifestyle, mainly being incarcerated. She told the officer over the unit her concerns. He researched the symptoms she mentioned. He sent a request up to medical. When no one responded, he grabbed the food service worker and together, they went to medical and persisted until they found a nurse willing to go to the unit. After a perfunctory conversation and look-over, my friend said the three of them took him to medical.

You can guess the rest. The trio saved his life.

Fast forward many, many years later, and my friend is working for me at a DOC, and he asked for time off. The CO was hospitalized and dying from cancer, and my friend said he needed to be with him. The two had been in contact ever since that momentous time, and my buddy was with his mentor when he slipped from this life.

How powerful is that story? A story of compassion, empathy, and doing what’s right that manifested in love.

In the years that I’ve worked in correctional settings, I remember some truly horrible people. But mostly, I can give you an endless list of good people, trying to help folks have a better life, wishing and praying and rooting for them.

Correctional professionals have a tough job in a tough setting. I will say that fatigue and stress is lessened considerably when we make them part of the solution and give them purpose for coming to work every day instead of treating them like guards and giving them endless hours of doing nothing. We could change the current system by hiring for culture and training robustly to sustain that culture instead of hiring warm bodies. I know, I know, staff shortages, yadda yadda. If we overhauled our CJ system and reduced the number of people incarcerated, we would reduce our staff shortages as well.

Well, okay. LOTS of topics for later on.

But this Sunday morning, to the correctional workers who are kind, compassionate, and work every day with purpose and meaning, thank you.

Cheers folks. Be kinder this week. Love harder. Be the light.