Cyndi Banks. Women in Prison: A Reference Handbook. ABC-CLIO, Santa Barbara. 2003.
In 1793 Mary Weed became the first woman correctional administrator, having been appointed the principal keeper at the Walnut Street Jail in Philadelphia (Morton 1992). The first woman to hold the position of a “corrections officer” was Rachel Perijo, who was appointed to the post of matron in charge of female offenders at the Baltimore Men’s Penitentiary in 1822 (Britton 2000, 33). Women entered correctional services initially as volunteers, visiting women prisoners between 1860 and 1900. Gradually, through the efforts of women reformers, women came to be employed as wardens, assistant wardens, and staff in women’s reformatories and in men’s penitentiaries, where women were housed in custodial conditions. Female staff were typically single, working-class women and often had to resign if they got married. In reformatories, they worked twelve-hour shifts and lived and took their meals in inmate cottages (Britton 2000, 33). Accordingly, their work conditions differed dramatically from those of male correctional officers in men’s prisons, who usually lived off the prison grounds.
During the period 1930 to 1970, women who worked as security officers, counselors, and probation and parole officers were rarely allowed to guard male prisoners; indeed, it is only since the 1980s that women have been admitted to all areas of correctional service (Feiman 1994). In the late 1970s, following legal pressure, women first worked as correctional officers in men’s prisons. This came about through the 1972 amendments to Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which extended protection against discrimination based on sex to public sector employees (Britton 2000, 33). However, there was resistance to this movement. For example, in 1977 the Supreme Court in the case of Dothard v. Rawlinson allowed Alabama to exclude women from correctional officer positions in men’s prisons, reasoning that they were vulnerable to sexual assault from “predatory male sex offenders” (Britton 2000).
The prison system went through a period of instability during the 1960s and 1970s, with riots occurring in some prisons, and court interventions requiring the formalization of rules and regulation, due process requirements to be followed in disciplinary action, and a general professionalization of the role of correctional officers (Irwin 1980). Prior to the 1970s, white men constituted the majority of correctional officers in men’s prisons; this changed in the early 1970s, when African Americans were recruited in significant numbers (Jacobs 1977). Nowadays, all states and the Bureau of Prisons employ women as correctional officers at every security level in both men’s and women’s prisons (Britton 2000, 34). However, though the Bureau of Prisons allows women to work as correctional officers in all positions in the twenty-four medium-security federal institutions, they may not work as guards in the six maximumsecurity prisons, where they are employed in nonsecurity positions. This policy was adopted after an attack and murder on a part-time female dietician by a prisoner in the Atlanta penitentiary in 1979 (Potter 1980).
The move toward the recruitment of women as correctional officers fit with notions of rehabilitation that argued that women would bring “feminine” qualities to prisons, display greater sensitivity to inmates, have greater communication skills than male officers, and be able to defuse conflict better than men (Jurik and Halemba 1984). In addition, in prisons located in isolated rural areas, there was a shortage of male workers, which meant there was more incentive to recruit women (Crouch 1980). Studies reveal that women officers tend to favor a treatment approach over a custody approach and to supervise inmates using a more personal style than male officers typically exhibit (Crouch 1985; Jurik and Halemba 1984; Pollock 1986). For example, rather than tell inmates to perform tasks, women will ask them to do so, and they will talk to inmates about children and family matters.
Despite these advances, women make up only 13 percent of the correctional officer force in men’s prisons, although overall (Morton 1991a), they comprise about 31 percent of the total correctional workforce (ACA Vital Statistics in Corrections in Schmalleger and Smykla 2000, 228). There are considerable variations between states; for example, a 1988 survey of federal and state prisons revealed that in Mississippi, 36 percent of correctional officers in men’s prisons were female, as compared with only 3.1 percent in North Carolina. A total of 10 percent of corrections positions are supervisory, that is, sergeant or above, and women occupy 22.5 percent of those in adult male and female institutions but only 18 percent of those at the level of warden or superintendent. African Americans fill approximately 21 percent of positions at the level of warden or superintendent (229). A survey of the principal administrators of women’s prisons revealed that three quarters of women’s prison administrators are women, and half have held their positions less than five years (Morash, Bynum, and Koons 1995).
Women Guarding Men
Studies have shown that women correctional officers employed in state prisons are more highly educated than their male counterparts, more likely to come from professional urban families, and are less likely to be married than male officers (Zupan 1992). African Americans make up a large proportion of women correctional officers. For example, in New York City in 1991, 24.7 percent of the Department of Corrections officers were women, and of those, 84 percent were African American (Maghan and McLeish-Blackwell 1991).
Women give a number of reasons for joining the corrections profession, including an interest in working with people and in rehabilitation, but they also consider salary and conditions and lack of other employment opportunities as significant incentives. Sometimes women come from rural areas where a nearby correctional facility is the largest employer, and sometimes their husband or father may be employed by the institution (Merlo and Pollock 1995, 98). Typically, women want to work in a prison for men because the prisons are closer to their home or they have a chance of getting preferred assignments or shifts. Additionally, some women report a preference for working with men, believing male prisoners to be more compliant and easier to handle (Zimmer 1986; Pollock 1986). Male officers tend to emphasize salary, job security, and lack of other employment. In a study of women correctional officers in a county jail, Belknap (1991) found that most women employed there chose the occupation for its salary, benefits, and experience, but many wanted to find employment as police officers; that African American women were more interested in a career in corrections than in a move into police work; and that African Americans were more likely to be single heads of households (Maghan and McLeish-Blackwell 1991).
Generally, correctional officers feel unappreciated because their occupation carries low prestige (Martin and Jurik 1996, 171). The constraints of their employment include their being dependent on each other for support, having to work shift hours, and the isolated location of many prisons. Correctional officers must follow administrative rules in their employment and are subject to punishment for rule violations. This becomes a tension in their work because there is a tendency among officers to ignore rules in situations where they are perceived to be a barrier to effective action (172).
Formerly, and perhaps now, correctional service is seen as a working-class occupation with strong connections to maleness and masculinity because of its social control and risk aspects (Crouch 1985; Horne 1985). The occupational culture of corrections tends to stress physical and verbal aggression, and because women correctional officers do not ordinarily exhibit those qualities, the male officers may see their presence as threatening those values. To this occupational culture must be added a feeling of alienation and isolation among officers at having to enforce rules formulated by the courts and by administrators, about which they are not consulted, but for which they are accountable if issues arise in their enforcement. For this reason, many correctional officers perceive themselves as subject to unfair treatment as compared to the due process rights granted to inmates (Hawkins and Alpert 1989, 352-353).
Masculinity in prisons tends to be identified with demonstrating competence. Male officers perceive feminine competence by constructing women officers as “little sisters” who accept the protection of the male officers, or as “seductresses” who accept the sexual advances of their male counterparts (Jurik 1985; Owen 1985; Peterson 1982; Zimmer 1986). It is through such constructions that most men rationalize the presence of women as coworkers in a correctional environment. For many male correctional officers, projecting a masculine identity in prison means showing a superiority to what are perceived as feminine qualities. Women who refuse the protection of their male coworkers or reject their sexual advances risk being labeled by the men as “too manly” or as “man haters,” or as “bitches” or “lesbians” (Martin and Jurik 1996, 1,974). Tensions arising from gender differences within corrections center on the old-style work culture associating competence with physical strength and emotional toughness. Opposed to this is the modern philosophy of corrections that is managerial in style and calls for educated, rational, and rule-oriented officers able to use conflict management and communication techniques. It is easier for women to overcome gender difference by becoming managerial because in this role they can be seen to be competent in their work since the managerial style is gender-neutral.
The relationship between male inmates and women correctional officers is quite complex. Initially, studies have shown that inmates whistle, flirt, stare, and in other ways display their masculinity for new female correctional officers. However, this initial display becomes muted once the women have demonstrated competence. Among African American male and female officers there is some discomfort in exercising authority over African American inmates; these inmates may display special resentment toward African American women officers, perceiving them to be violating racial unity and participating in the oppression of African American men by whites (Martin and Jurik 1996, 175). However, most surveys suggest that inmates are positive about the presence of women correctional officers despite points of conflict and tension, especially in relation to privacy issues for male inmates. For example, a number of lawsuits have been filed challenging the inspection of male inmates by women officers as a violation of their right to privacy. A number of suits have challenged the assignment of opposite-sex officers in shower, toilet, and dressing areas (for example, Forts v. Ward [1980], Bowling v. Enomoto [1981], Avery v. Perrin [1979], and Gunther v. Iowa [1980]). Other suits have contested the practice of opposite-sex pat-searches (for example, Smith v. Fairman [1982] and Bagley v. Watson [1983]). The approach followed by the courts in such cases has been to try to balance women’s employment rights with inmates’ rights to privacy by directing changes in institutional policies or in the physical organization of the prison. An example is Forts v. Ward (1980), where the court ordered that inmates be permitted to cover the windows on their cell doors for fifteen minutes each day.
A recent decision of the U.S. Court of Appeals found there was no constitutional violation where female guards were permitted to monitor male inmates in bathrooms and showers whereas male guards were not used to monitor female inmates under similar circumstances (Oliver v. Scott [2002]). The case concerned a correctional facility operated by the Corrections Corporation of America in Texas under a management contract. During the period in question, the prison housed about 250 females on the ninth floor of a ten-story facility with about 1,750 male inmates on the other floors. A few female guards were assigned to monitor male housing areas. The plaintiff claimed that female prison employees conducted strip searches of male inmates and observed male inmates showering and using the bathroom, but that male officers did not carry out similar duties in respect to female inmates. Female prisoners’ showers and toilet facilities contained partitions that shielded them from view while in use, but the same structures were not available for male inmates. The district court ruled that the prison’s interest in preserving security and equal employment opportunities justified any privacy invasion. The court of appeals affirmed that decision, holding that some courts have held cross-sex searches and monitoring to be capable of violating the prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment and that Supreme Court precedent establishes that any minimal invasion of privacy is justified by the interest of the state in promoting security. Further, a right of privacy under the Fourth Amendment is incompatible with the close and continual surveillance of inmates and their cells, which is required to maintain security and order. The court mentioned two previous cases in which it had found that security concerns can justify the strip search of a male inmate in front of female guards; that is, the strip search of an inmate during a lock-down after a fight about food and an increased incidence of prison murders, stabbings, and suicides as justifying a shake-down that included mass strip searches in front of female employees. Referring to earlier cases, the Court pointed out that if only men can monitor showers this means that female guards become less useful to the prison, and if female guards are not able to perform this task then the prison must have more guards on hand to cover for them. In one case, it was pointed out that restricting female guards from occasionally viewing male inmates would necessitate a complete rearrangement of work schedules, which might itself introduce a risk not only to security but also to equal employment opportunities. Further, many courts have previously identified the protection of female prison guards’ right to equal employment opportunities as a legitimate penological objective.
Male and Female Officers
Women officers have identified their male supervisors and coworkers and not male inmates as their major opposition in men’s prisons. Male correctional officers continue to argue that women are too weak physically and emotionally for correctional work, cannot perform in violent encounters, will become too fearful or depressed to perform the work, or will be taken in by the machinations of inmates (Jurik 1985). Male officers believe they have to step in and protect women in conflict situations, and they then complain that women fail to reciprocate. In one study, 72 percent of male officers reported that they believed they were occasionally obliged to protect a female correctional officer (Kissel and Seidel 1980). In the same study, 92 percent of male staff felt that women made a special contribution to the facility, and 96 percent believed that women increased its livability. In contrast, women officers believe they can defend themselves and that the fears of their male coworkers are unwarranted. In addition, it has been found that women resent male offers of protection (Bowersox 1981). In one study that looked at differences in the frequency and outcome of assaults against male and female officers, little was found to confirm these male fears because the study found that women officers were assaulted significantly less often than male officers and that when women were assaulted they were as likely as male officers to be injured or suffer a major injury (Shawver and Dickover 1986). One study, however, found that there was more reluctance to accept women as coworkers among older male correctional officers with substantial years of correctional experience than among younger male officers with less experience (Lawrence and Mahon 1998, 82). Also, more of the male officers assigned to maximum-security facilities believe that women could not work effectively without endangering themselves or others. This contrasted with men working in minimumand medium-security prisons, who did not share this concern to the same degree.
Male officers also worry about women becoming intimate with inmates, and some will watch for situations where they perceive the women as getting too close to the male inmates. In response, women officers complain that their male counterparts are not monitored in the same way they are (Martin and Jurik 1996, 176).
Sexual harassment of women officers by their male counterparts is seen as an issue by women officers. Belknap’s 1991 jail survey found that about 31 percent of women correctional officers complained of sexual harassment, including offensive sexual comments and behavior (Belknap 1991). Complaints of sexual harassment are often handled internally, and women officers have until recently been poorly informed about procedures for lodging complaints. For many women officers, the correctional workplace is a hostile environment because of overt and covert sexual harassment, with most complaints involving harassment by their male coworkers or supervisors (Martin and Jurik 1996, 177).
Constraints Faced by Women Correctional Officers
Apart from sexual harassment and the privacy issue for male inmates, there are organizational constraints that women guards face and men do not. For example, taking leave for pregnancy becomes an issue because of the demand for shift work in corrections; this means that matters connected with the family, always seen to be the responsibility of women, produce tensions between work and home. Initially, some correctional authorities required that pregnant women take a leave of absence or resign, but an American Correctional Association survey of 1991 revealed that over three quarters of correctional agencies responding stated they had pregnancy or maternity leave policies. Nevertheless, 22 percent had no written policy, which left women officers subject to the discretion of supervisors in pregnancy or family matters (Morton 1991b).
Work assignments for women officers have been an issue first because of the privacy issue for male inmates, and second, because of the perception that women have a reduced role within the correctional workplace. Morton (1991a) reported a decrease in the number of correctional agencies restricting work assignments for women officers between 1978 and 1988, but some thirty-four agencies nonetheless disclosed limitations on female assignments in men’s prisons. The limitations were all concerned with privacy; for example, in Delaware, women were prohibited from entering the housing area of the prison, and in other states they were prevented from undertaking strip searches or collecting urine samples.
These issues point to the ambivalence shown by administrators as to the “proper” role of women in men’s prisons. Different agencies apply different approaches. For example, the policy of one department assigned women officers to all areas of the prison unless such assignment would violate privacy rights in relation to strip searches and viewing inmates when nude (Morton 1991a). As a practical matter, policy varies from prison to prison and supervisor to supervisor, and in some institutions women officers are restricted to clerical duties or prohibited from working in yards and housing even when there are no privacy issues at stake. One outcome of these limitations placed on women officers is that they are unable to gain complete experience in working with inmates, which has an adverse effect on their opportunity for promotion. In the end, they may be left only with the “women’s slots” (Morton 1991a).
A number of studies have looked at evaluating the performance of women officers; Zimmer (1997) found that women officers who use unique work strategies may receive adverse evaluations because their approach is different to that of their male counterparts. An analysis of one performance evaluation report (Jurik 1985) showed that of the eighteen categories of performance listed, “security” was emphasized throughout, and only one category dealt with communication skills and service. Conflict diffusion was not addressed at all. Jurik also noted that supervisors scrutinize and take note of the interactions between women officers and male inmates more carefully than such encounters between their male counterparts and male inmates. In terms of actual performance, studies show that women can perform in corrections as well as men but tend to experience higher levels of stress in the work (Cullen et al. 1985) and have to adapt to the masculine culture prevailing in prisons (Merlo and Pollock 1995, 101). As one woman officer put it, “I work here all day, talk loud, act tough. I go home at night and find myself talking in a deep loud voice to my kids” (Jurik 1988, 303).
Gender differences in guarding inmates tend to arise in relation to the level of discretion that officers may exercise. Male officers see a need to be granted more discretion, whereas women officers have a preference for a structured environment, which reduces discretion (Jurik and Halemba 1984). Both men and women officers rated administrators and supervisors as causing them the most problems, but women rated coworkers as their next major source of problems whereas men listed inmates second and coworkers last. Similarities exist in their approach, despite gender, in that both perceived many working conditions and the needs of inmates in the same way. Studies indicate that women officers have a more calming effect on male inmates than male officers, including diffusing potentially violent situations through nonviolent interventions (Kissel and Katsamples 1980; Graham 1981); that women help to humanize and normalize the male prison environment; and that women officers challenge “old guard” images and are more likely to attempt innovative strategies (Zimmer 1986; Peterson 1982). Peterson (1982) found that a majority of male inmates sampled believed that the presence of women officers helped reduce tension and hostility within the institution. Crouch and Alpert (1982) found that women officers in women’s prisons held less tough-minded views than male correctional officers working in men’s prisons.
In terms of the role followed by women officers, Zimmer (1986) identified three roles: the institutional, the modified, and the innovative. In the institutional role women adhere closely to prison rules to maintain professionalism and may be viewed by other staff as rigid and inflexible. In the modified role, women rely on the men to protect them from the inmates, believing they are unable to perform the work as well as men. In the innovative role, the women officers rely on inmate guidance to do their job (Zimmer 1986). A contrary view is taken by Jurik (1988) suggesting that women use a variety of strategies and do not fall into easily classified role types. Such strategies include adopting a professional demeanor, requiring adherence to rules but not requiring that rules be enforced at all times, emphasizing consistency and fairness but also showing flexibility, and replacing “old guard” approaches with conflict management techniques. Another strategy is for women to identify unique talents they might possess, such as writing, counseling, or public speaking.
A recent study reports a number of disadvantages women identify in correctional work. These include not being taken seriously and having to work harder to get respect, being seen as affirmative action appointees in supervisory roles, and failing to gain the respect that their male counterparts enjoy automatically. In addition, they felt that being visible as a woman tended to magnify their errors; that a woman’s voice may lack power or not be audible; that male coworkers might be less willing to share information with women colleagues; that women were sometimes asked to type, take notes, or check grammar; and that women were pressured to attend social functions to an extent that sometimes amounted to sexual harassment. Also identified in the study were widespread sexual harassment, male coworkers using premenstrual syndrome (PMS) as an explanation for any woman’s action of which they did not approve, and differing communications styles between the genders, with women’s styles being perceived as less professional (Withrow, Courtnay, and Peterson 1992 in Merlo and Pollock 1995, 102-103).
The experience of being a woman correctional officer has been documented in a number of studies; reading the words of these women adds another perspective to an understanding of what it means to be a woman guarding women in prison.
Officer Carol Lutes has been a prison guard for more than ten years at a women’s prison and sums up her experience:
I’ve never had a problem. I go by the rules. I believe that if you talk to them decently and humanely you get that back, not all the time, of course, but most of the times that works. (Wojda and Rowse 1997, 24)
I find it less stressful now, even with more inmates here. All we had for programs back then was cosmetology, OPI [prison industries], and the laundry. Today, we have all kinds of programs. But if they want to be rehabilitated, it’s up to them. Some of them have [got] two or three degrees, and they still come back. I’ve seen some of them come back four and five times. (67-68)
Claire Adams is a senior administrator at a women’s prison. She is in her mid-thirties with a no-nonsense approach and a reputation for results:
The women who are in here for killing their husbands tend to make ideal inmates. They never get a ticket [citation for misconduct]. They go to church services, visit their families, and go to school. You see, they had a problem, and they eliminated their problem. Now they’re getting on with their lives. … One of the biggest complaints among the inmates is that they are treated like children. That’s true. There’s so much structure here … they’re told where to go and when. But our job is to teach them the rules. They want to blame everyone else. But until you assume responsibility for your actions, you can’t see anything wrong in what you did.
It’s definitely a bigger stigma for a woman to have been in prison than it is for a man. The public attitude is much harsher. … Personally, I think that 30 to 35 percent of these women don’t belong here. A lot of them are just kids coming in for drugs. They need treatment, and they could be rehabilitated on the outside. (23)
Officer Inez Stark, age twenty-six, has worked in several areas inside a woman’s prison, and her father, sister, husband, and brother-in-law also work in corrections:
The majority of them want to do their time and go home. Although they’re here, they want to be with their friends. They don’t want to go in the hole. They don’t want to lose their visiting privileges … I don’t trust any of them. If I was in here, I would do anything and everything that would help me. There’s always a motive for what they do. It’s not that you don’t like some of them. It’s just that you don’t trust them. (22)
Officer Pauline Lightner has worked at a women’s prison for twelve years and speaks about the stress of being a woman guarding women:
I think there’s a lot of stress for officers: I think officers have a lot of responsibility. There’s stress that goes along with that. You have to account for their every move, and there’s lots of stress connected with how the women are getting along, if there’s arguments or someone is stealing.
We have to be understanding of the inmates’ problems, but they have to abide by the rules. (21)
When women guard women of another culture, this adds to their stress because indigenous women may, for cultural reasons, adopt different behaviors and respond toward guards differently than members of the dominant culture. In a women’s prison housing Alaskan Native women, one of the white women guarding them expressed some concern about cultural difference:
Natives act like they don’t understand when they do, they act stupid when they’re not, and act confused as though they don’t understand. This helps get staff off their back; they can accuse you of prejudice, usually by telling someone else what they think of you and it gets back to you. It’s a form of control because staff don’t want to be accused. ///// They won’t look you in the eye, don’t show emotions, won’t cry, some will laugh but look away. They keep to themselves. You don’t even know they are there unless you go to them.
We don’t have time to seek them out. If they come to us we’ll talk to them; they are really hard to deal with because you don’t know what’s going on with them. (Banks 2002, 244)