Criminal justice students preserve, protect and defend

Billy Powers, a former corrections officer at the James V. Allred Unit, located four miles northwest of Wichita Falls, spent 12 hours a day for six years surrounded by murderers, thieves and rapists.

“I’ve had every body fluid thrown on me in every combination,” Powers said. “Chunking,” as it is called in prison lingo, is a common occurrence and is usually a form of retaliation against an officer who an inmate felt had wronged them.

One of 787 security officers, Powers wasn’t alone in maintaining order at the maximum security unit, housing some 3,600 of the state’s offenders. As with any job, being a corrections officer, one of the potential jobs for graduates of the criminal justice program, has challenges, including, dealing with inmates, working with other guards, and following policies.

These challenges are just a part of what students would deal with on the job, and they had mixed feelings about whether or not the university prepared them for working with criminals.

“My courses focus on rehabilitation so they know what to do when they get out, and how to control the ones who can’t,” Michael Washington, sophomore in criminal justice, said.

The curriculum teaches students about rehabilitation, with little instruction on how to actually work with criminals. Thomas Myers, a criminal justice major and 18-month corrections officer for the James V. Allred Unit, said. Courses are designed more towards rehabilitation, not the situations where criminals are trying to manipulate.

“Don’t trust them. They are almost always trying to get their way,” Myers, said.

The Correctional Training Academy is a required four-month training program that teaches officers about interpersonal-communication skills with offenders and physical-defense techniques for when talking can’t resolve the situation. When communication fails to resolve the situation, officers use force when necessary.

“They teach you in the academy that if offenders want to get stupid; we get plum retarded,” Myers said.

Washington said “I don’t know too much about what they’re taught or what they have to do to prepare. I wasn’t taught that, or at least not yet.”

The average correction officer makes $37,000 a year, while the average starting salary is $32,000 a year according to Texas Department of Criminal Justice.

“With the risk they have to put themselves in, it should be better than that,” Washington said. “I’m not even sure I could do it.”

Powers said, “I believe everything is a stepping-stone, and it was for me. I’m still working towards a career in law enforcement. I wanted to work and be around the criminal element to see if I had what it takes.”

In rare, but real cases, an offender will use violence against officers. Inmates create improvised weapons known as “shanks,” usually used for stabbing, motion but can also be used for slashing. These lethal creations can be made from anything.

“I saw a guy who made a shank out of Little Debbie wrappers by melting them down then sharpening and shaping them into blades,” Powers said. “Another guy took the engine out of his fan, put screws in it, and made a flail. I’ve seen a guy’s face caved in and an eye explode.”

It would be a misconception to assume that only the offenders locked up for violent crimes are likely to be aggressive towards officers. Attacks also take place from those convicted of drug or burglary charges.

“I’ve worked with more compliant murderers,” Myers said. “It’s the gang banger kids who made a mistake that you got to look out for. Prison changes you.”

Prison doesn’t just change inmates though. It also changes the lives of the people who work there.

“Working in prison was like serving time,” Myers said. “I started cussing a lot more and talking like an inmate. I enjoy fighting a lot more”

“On days I work, I don’t have a personal life, but it definitely causes stress in a relationship. It changes you. You become highly aggressive. That’s why people who do this job have such a high divorce rate,” said Cody McCarthy, a three-year general population officer.

Powers said, “You have to leave work at work and home at home, you can’t be a boss at home and a husband and father at work. That transition is crucial.”

The Criminal Justice Program

Washington said he has not gone through any self-defense courses “so far” because the criminal justice program does not offer a course in self-defense.

“We’ve been taught to handle it fairly, but not given any practice on it,” Washington said.

Ted Paddack teaches the introduction to criminal justice as well as the corrections systems and practices courses. Paddack’s career ranges from a juvenile probation officer to a licensed professional counselor.

“MSU focuses more on academic issues, not skill building,” said Paddack. “Closest thing to that would be forensics.”

Programs like the academy teach skill-building, which includes self-defense ­techniques, and other skills necessary to perform duties. In contrast, the main focus of MSU is to prepare students academically and provide a base upon which to build a career.

“Communication is key,” said Paddack. “We teach that issues should be handled in the least restrictive environment, and give the most liberty they [criminals] can handle. Some criminals can’t handle any liberty.”

The term “least-restrictive environment” could simply mean just talking to the offenders, this is sometimes reffered to as “verbal judo,” but the most restrictive would require necessary force.

“You have to be comfortable with controlling another person,” said Paddack, “not because you have a big stick, but because it’s your mandate.”

Paddack said punishment was necessary and a major part of the rehabilitative process.

“Punishment and rehabilitation are the same thing,” Paddack said. “Their goals are the same. We don’t send people to prison to make them better. We send them to be punished.”

With approximately 250 students enrolled in the criminal justice program, Paddack warns that the profession needs ethical young people, and that the job is not an easy one.

“There is no profession that can do more damage to society than an unethical criminal justice profession,” Paddack said.

Despite the dangers, working in the prison system has its benefits. There are laundry services available for only $1 a month. Shoe shining and barber services are also available for officers. Low-custody level inmates can participate in mechanic and small-engine repair courses held within the prison, and the officers can take advantage of these services.

“Insurance and stability, that’s the only reason why I stay,” McCarthy said. “Believe it or not, I’ve really learned how to talk to people and get my point across because of working there.”

“The benefits are pretty good,” Powers said. “You learn patience, verbal and problem solving skills, as well as multi-tasking. You also tend to become some inmates’ role-models, mentors, even preachers.”

Washington said his interest in criminal justice came about because he wanted to help people, or protect people in some way.

Prison-system officials claim rehabilitation is their primary goal, but the system might be working against itself.

“Some of the guys locked up came from bad neighborhoods where you have to earn respect and do bad things to keep it. They have no prospects, no jobs, so they turn to crime. Well, then they go to prison and get free health care, education, courts and legal services, and food. There’s no rent and no child support. The only thing they have to worry about is gang-rape,” Powers said.

“Laws don’t allow felons to get help,” McCarthy said. Offenders do not qualify for student loans, federal employment, and can’t even join the military in many cases. “That’s why so many go back,” McCarthy said.

A local program, located on the corner of 1300 10th St. Wichita Falls, Texas, called “A Bridge [Back to Success]” is designed to help individuals who desire to go back into society.

“A Bridge [Back to Success]” is designed and structured to benefit the individual participant who desires and needs a “helping hand” (a bridge) over some troubled waters. According to the mission statement, “Through an eight-week, work-ethic, pragmatic outreach program, A Bridge [Back to Success] provides those sound principles required of persons who have a strong desire to (re)-establish self back into concordance with a newly-found productive and personal and societal relationship.”

The Allred Unit

However, not all criminial justice students get to work with individuals being rehabilitated. Some choose to work in institutions such as the state prison and the Allred Unit located just oustide Wichita Falls. Allred’s housing units include general population, administrative segregation and expansion cell block, also known as high security. The housing units are separated into different buildings located across the unit.

General population houses the vast majority of offenders, and includes eight separate buildings, each designated to a specific custody level.

“General population is all about people skills and trying to defuse situations,” Myers said, which is even more crucial since offenders outnumber officers.

Officers call this relationship “white vs. grey” because of the colors of uniforms. Offenders wear white, and officers wear grey.

Expansion cell block has earned the nickname “the island” by the officers and offenders due to its location within the prison.

“In ECB you have to be ready for violence, but should try to defuse the situation. Ad-Seg is the more tight-knit clique and are more physical type people,” Myers said.  “You don’t need people skills really.”

Ad-Seg houses are the worst of the worst. Inmates in Ad-Seg are considered too dangerous to be housed with other inmates and are only allowed one hour of rec day. However, only one inmate can be out in the rec yard at a time which has a pull-up bar and basketball hoop.  Inmates in Ad-Seg never set foot outside until sent back to high security or general population for good behavior.

Ad-Seg is not always considered a punishment. In certain cases, getting sent to Ad-Seg prolongs an inmate’s life-span. “Catching out” is a term used to describe a manipulation of the prison system in which an inmate will cause disturbances, even violence at times, to be placed in Ad-Seg. Prison gangs place “hits” on rival gang member’s lives at times, and catching out is seen as a way to escape an attempt at the inmate’s own life.

This manipulation of the system puts officers further into harm’s way, something students in criminal justice expect. It’s part of their job.