As part of my work-program, they have me visit some of the county facilities. I was supposed to go with the other interns and another new employee, but by some coincidence, everyone became unavailable at the last minute except for me. I arrived, a little thrown-off by the obscure dirt path that led me there, and gave my keys to the officer at the front desk. My first thought upon walking into the facility was about how small it was. Sgt Perez (not actual name) told me the building was meant to house about 80 women, and there were actually 136 currently there. Being so crowded, the women were quick to notice a new face, and I tried to smile and be as non-intrusive as possible. I happened to come at lunch time, when they were allowed out of their “dorms” which were basically systems to keep the girls separated (i.e. the drug and alcohol program women from the worker women from the newly received women). They marched out along a very specific path, grabbed their trays, and went straight back into their respective rooms.
All along I was asking Sgt Perez different questions; I asked about the food they served, what television they watched, what most of the womens’ crimes were, etc. One answer he had to my question about rehabilitative services they offered at the facility really saddened me: “There’s no such thing as rehabilitation… We’re a housing facility.” I subsequently asked about the title of “correctional facility” and what part warranted the term “correctional,” but from what he told me, as far as I understood, it seems the name is simply a name – no real merit to it.
I was also struck by the womens’ faces – some youthful and bright, others sullen and worn. Apparently there were women ranging from 18 to 67 years of age, and for a myriad of crimes. “That girl right there,” Sgt Perez said, “she’s on 2 million dollar bail for growing drugs in her house, her and her two sisters… We had to keep them separate.” Their crimes ranged from drug offenses to murder; and as far as stay, sometimes the women are only at the facility for a few months, sometimes they’re there for years.
Sgt Perez was very gracious, and he was more than willing to answer all my questions. It was a nice, short tour, and it gave me a better sense of the system.
I don’t know if it was his tone, or the girls’ faces, or the facility itself, but I walked away incredibly depressed and with a hope to help better the system someday.
