On Monday, Feb. 17, guards at two New York state prisons began a strike unauthorized by their union, the Correctional Officers & Police Benevolent Association.

In the following days, officers at dozens of prisons across the state joined the strike, citing unsafe working conditions and prompting Gov. Kathy Hochul to deploy thousands of National Guard troops to the facilities to ensure operations continued.

Since the strike began, seven incarcerated people have died. 

An agreement, negotiated by state officials and the correctional officers’ union, was reached on Sunday, March 9, with officers expected to return to work Monday. 

In brief dispatches written before the latest agreement was reached, three PJP writers shared their perspectives on living through the weeks-long strike.

— PJP Editors

I never thought I would wake up to find the National Guard taking the count alongside the guards who have chosen to stay, greeting me with a smile.

Technically, the striking guards should be arrested or at least fired since the law forbids public workers from striking. I heard that corrections staff concede they were breaking the law, “but we are just trying to feed our families; we are not criminals” — I have read that line in hundreds of sentencing transcripts of young men arrested for selling drugs who told judges the same thing. 

I am not delusional to confuse civil disobedience with actual criminality. However, there are rumors of corrections staff participating in criminal behavior: burning and vandalizing state transportation buses.

I spoke with a few National Guard members who said they have no dog in this fight; their aim is to keep society safe, including people in prison, who will return to the outside one day. 

As for the corrections officers continuing to come to work, I have a newfound respect for them. The ridicule they will endure when this is over is assured. 

This has to be the weirdest thing I have ever experienced in prison: the prison guards and the National Guard are treating us with so much respect. 

But I feel safer than I ever have in my 30-plus years in prison — safe from guards and safe from other incarcerated people. We all seem to be moving in unison for once. I hope the camaraderie lasts. 

— Paul Thompson, Green Haven Correctional Facility

The officers’ union attempted to end the Humane Alternatives to Long-Term Solitary Confinement Act in the courts but were rebuffed. Then they turned to an illegal wildcat strike in an attempt to get their way.  Increased use of solitary would help keep them safe, they argue. 

Since we’ve been on lockdown, it feels very much like being in solitary confinement, which the strikers say they want to bring back in full force. Many of us find their reasoning flawed because we remember the days when solitary confinement was abused and misused for nearly every offense. 

The recent killing of Robert Brooks calls into question who really is under threat of violence within these walls.

— Jared Bozydaj, Eastern Correctional Facility

We’ve been on lockdown since Feb. 18. No visits. No packages. No programs. No yard time. We’ve had mostly bagged meals three times a day; those that have arrived on a tray have tended to be cold, with stale milk and molded bread.

The National Guard members filling in for the striking guards have been polite and respectful. They have collected outgoing mail, laundry, trash and feed-ups — meals delivered to our cells rather than retrieved from the chow hall. My source of fresh air is from a small recreation pen off the back side of my cell — it’s the size of a small dog kennel and is opened three times a day.

Contact with family or friends is limited to snail mail, or for those of who haven’t lost tablet privileges, e-messaging or phone calls. Read, sleep, write, watch TV, listen to podcasts — that’s how I fill the time locked in my cell. 

From the sounds of it, some guys are stressed from being cooped up.

— John R. Prentice Jr., Five Points Correctional Facility