Having never worked in a prison, when I began my career at my former employer on 05-20-13, I didn't know what to
expect. I was excited and ready to begin working with inmates in a therapeutic
way; building rapport, identifying their issues, drawing on past experiences
inmates could provide where they acted appropriately, managed their emotions,
and made effective decisions. I wanted
to use various therapeutic interventions to help inmates develop whatever it
was in their lives that they lacked – challenging distorted thinking,
processing emotions, building self-esteem, working through past traumas, all in
a supportive, safe environment.
That is not the type of
therapy practiced where I formerly worked. In fact, I had been told multiple times that
“there is no therapy (on the block where I worked)” which likely makes the block function better to
provide the structure it does.
I, however, am not the type
of counselor who can walk into an interaction with a client with the direction
to “never trust an inmate” who is, for all intents and purposes, my client,
shading the entire session. Maybe it’s inexperience or maybe it’s naiveté that
prevents me from entering and maintaining that mindset for 8 hours. Or, maybe
it’s believing in the intrinsic good in people, having both compassion and
empathy for my clients and letting my clients know that.
I will be the first to admit
that I am an open and out-going person.
I like to get to know my clients to better put whatever it is that they
came to see me about into context. Outside of therapy, I am opinionated, loud
and generally always include my input in any discussion. Those may not
be traits for a successful counselor in this environment, but they have served
me well up to this point.
I am a damn good counselor. That much I know is true. I
professionally relish in participating in sessions with clients that move
forward, that don’t rehash the same topics and complaints again and again,
where even if progress is painful, it’s still progress. I don’t believe that this type of therapy is
what’s needed in my former role. Which is neither good nor bad, it’s
just a difference between who I am and what is needed to fulfill that role.
I am slowly gaining what I
believe is a sense of relief since being informed that my tenure there has ended. Although I found it comforting when a psychologist once told me that he hated every day of his first year of work there, I
don’t want to hate coming to work every day. I don’t want to work in an
environment where I am routinely called a “fucking bitch” or a “fat bitch” or
any other of the numerous insults I have endured while working there. I don’t
want to work in an environment where men do walk around in their cells naked
and that I need to be prepared to deal with that. That is a skill set I don’t
currently posses, nor do I think I ever want to.
I have learned more about
myself as a professional counselor and as a person in my short tenure there,
and I am grateful for that. Sometimes in order to discover what one does want
in life, one has to first discover what one doesn’t want. I’m still
academically and intellectually intrigued by the experience of incarceration on
people and the role of psychopathy development in people, especially those with
a lengthy history of personal trauma, however I am now much more aware that
these are my academic and research interests, not necessarily my employment
interests.
"Some birds just aren't meant to caged; their feathers are just too bright. And when you set them free, your soul rejoices because they never should have been caged in the first place."
I am no longer caged.
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