Category: Women in Prison

Female Offenders, Women in Prison

Women in Prison: In Front and Behind the Cell Bars #2

Mona Alvarado Frazier

Disclaimer: No real names used. These stories are from one employee’s perspective during 1980-2008 with the California Youth Authority (CYA).Training, classifications, and agency have significantly changed in the last 10-15 years. There is no longer a CYA, it merged under the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

Last week I gave some of the back story to my introduction into the Criminal Justice field. Much of the training I received to do my job at the Correctional Facility was OJT: 
                                                                     
                                                                   On the job training



I began working before I went to the academy in Northern California, because of a backlog. On my first day I sat in the foyer with two other nervous employees-both were men a couple of years older than me. We didn’t have uniforms in those days because we were ‘counselors,’ not correctional officers like the others. We were told to wear pants (no jeans), tennis shoes, and a collared shirt. Purses could be placed in our lockers. I’m sure we looked like any other college aged kids…except to the old time employees. They passed by us, some shook their heads, one told the reception officer, 


                                                       “Uh, let me guess, new boots, huh?” 

Our first stop was the administration building, a maze of hallways with glossy linoleum floors. Our escort stopped short at a door, tapped on the chrome face plate that said WARDEN, then turned to look at us like we were supposed to cast our eyes to the floor. A secretary stepped out and ushered us into a large carpeted room with the US and California flags in each corner of the wall behind an expansive mahogany desk. It think it was faux wood.


The Warden seemed genial enough but didn’t invite us to sit down. He stood up, welcomed us, and came around to the front of the desk where he walked back and forth speaking about the mission of the Department and the seriousness nature of the job. He ended by looking straight at me,


                                           “These offender’s ain’t here for singing too loud in the choir.” 


I thought that was quite funny but I kept on my poker face. One of the other new boots laughed, “good one, sir.” The Warden didn’t smile. Our escort looked pissed off and later told him not to be a wise ass.


After we visited the personnel office, clerical services and two more offices in between, our escort walked us up to what he called a “Com Center,” short for communications center. At the end of the building on the left was an enclosed glass area, which looked like an air traffic control center. We walked up a few steps and heard a loud buzzer. Our escort pulled open the door and ushered us inside to meet the Com Center Sergeant who I’m sure was a Marine Drill Sergeant in another life.


The entire facility lay out, left to right, in front of the glass like the top half of a wagon wheel. Several one story brick buildings dotted the greenbelt that was crisscrossed with cement walkways and a perimeter of black asphalt and steel grey fences. 


                                               “This is your workplace, be careful, be alert.” 


The Sarg said this as he looked left to right and then fiddled with the black control panel in front of him. It was covered with white lights which occasionally lit up to green or red. Bracketed to a wall near a small side window were rows of wooden slots filled with small boxlike items. 


The Sarg pulled one out and thrust it toward me, “Wear it at all times.” I didn’t know what ‘it’ was or where it went until he pulled out two more and gave them to the others. The transistor radio looking item was encased in a leather covering with a round opening in the front. A red number was printed on the top of the case. “It’s your ‘Panic Button,’ loop it through your belt.” I wasn’t wearing a belt. 

                        “Always wear a belt, where do you think your keys hang, in your purse?” 


Wise Ass smirked. The escort shook his head. The Sarg looked at me up and down. I took a deep breath. “No sir.” 


“Okay,” Sarg said while he took some papers from our escort. “You’re assigned to Golondrina,” he said to one of the guys and then pointed to a brick building on the left side of the facility. “You go to Gaviota,” he said to Wise Ass and pointed towards the center of the area. “And you, kiddo, you get to go to Mariposa.” He pointed to the right, where there were two identical brick buildings. Sarg distributed keys to each of us. “Keys are marked with the call numbers of your unit.”


                                                         “DO NOT LOSE YOUR KEYS.”


Our escort led us down the steps and pointed out the buildings to each of us again. Then pushed us on our way. There was a huge expanse of grass, the length of a football field, between one set of buildings in the center and the one I had been assigned to on the right side of the facility. I walked across the asphalt roadway and made a beeline across the grass towards the unit.


                                                             “Get off the grass, new boot.”


Sarg’s voice boomed through the speaker and bounced off my ears. I turned around to see him standing at the glass window, his arms across his chest, shaking his head. A loud “Hah,” sounded on my left, it was Wise Ass, using the sidewalk. I jogged to the sidewalk and walked as fast as I could, to my new assignment, my first day of my twenty-eight year career working for the California Youth Authority. 

California Department of Corrections, Female Offenders, Television shows on prison, Women in Prison, Women Prisoners, Writing

Women in Prison: In Front and Behind the Cell Bars

Mona Alvarado Frazier
photo from National Geographic
There has been an increase in T.V. female prisoner shows: Lockup, Cellblock 6 (TLC), Babies behind Bars (TLC), Beyond Scared Straight (A & E), and even Oprah’s OWN channel has Breaking Down Bars. Women are the fastest growing prison population in America and some of the toughest to handle.  


The subject of women in prison is a new one for this blog. After a year of posting I think it’s time I wrote about my experiences working in the Criminal Justice system. I spent 28 years working inside of Youth Correctional facilities in California and two years working at work furlough and prison pre-release programs, with male and female inmates, young offenders and older inmates. This has been a huge part of my working life. 


I can’t think of a ‘pretty picture’ to accompany this post so I chose the one that I feel is closest to the reality of life inside a prison. Granted, my life has been as a correctional worker, not as a prisoner. but I offer my perspective of women behind and in front of the cell bars.

My career has affected me in so many ways that all three of my works-in-progress (WIP’s) are about characters on both sides of the law. One of the three WIP’s is set inside of a women’s prison and much of the setting is real, for that particular facility.  

For now I’ll begin with some background, not of my upbringing , but my career back story. In other words, how did I get from Catholic school to working inside of prison walls? 

After changes to my major (Psychology, Teaching, English) I found my niche: Sociology and Criminal Justice. During my Junior year I took a field trip to Lompoc Federal Penitentiary. It wasn’t scary until they let a large group of male inmates into the 16×20 conference room with two Correctional Officers (CO’s) a Caseworker and two teachers. 

It was like a show and tell about the programs inside. I was a shapely twenty year old with long hair to my waist. I felt naked as I sat on a folding chair and tried to make myself as small as possible. The teachers and Caseworker spoke and I heard the passion, and tiredness, in their voices. The passion was for the belief in rehabilitation and the tiredness was from the reality that everyone cannot or will not change. The ‘pitch’ was for student tutors, primarily for literacy tutors. I knew enough about the lives of drug dealers, con men and sweet talk that I was not going to volunteer for the program. 

During my Senior year I had more loans than scholarships and grants. I applied for a paid internship and that is how I ended up working with a Psychologist and two Probation Officers (PO’s) at a 90 day Pre-Release program for Lompoc Fed inmates. The staff mentored me and had me assist in their paperwork, especially the P.O’s. I spent eight months sitting in small group counseling sessions with a different group of eight parolees three times a week, the Psych, and one PO. I experienced the ‘games,’ got tough quick, learned the prison jargon, the Psych’s language, and the PO’s workload. 

My mentors recommended I go into Probation or work at the Juvenile Hall. I decided to apply at a Youth Correctional Facility in my county, graduated with my B.A.in June, and began working in July. I was twenty one years old, a new Youth Correctional Counselor, and my caseload of eight females ranged in age from eighteen to twenty-four. Most of them were older than me. 

The Youth Correctional Facility is under the Division of Juvenile Justice which is under the California Department of Corrections. There have been several changes throughout the years and the facility has housed ages 12-24 year old females to 16-21 year old males. It has been solely for girls and women, and then co-ed, back to all females 12-21 and now it’s coed again. The population has been as high as 1100 to a low of 230. Gender changes and population fluctuates in response to sentencing laws, prison overcrowding, and deteriorating structures. 

A prison is a world of its own. There are staff rules, inmate rules, gang rules, race rules and others that are best left for another time. Every Wednesday, my intention is to show readers this world, the girls and women inside (which I will refer to as female offenders), the sub-cultures, and the hopes and aspirations of young women doing time.