When someone is hired for a job out in the world, they receive training and sometimes a bonus upon completion. 

At my prison in Arkansas, when we start a job, we are often left to train ourselves, and there is no money in sight.

Here at the McPherson Unit — a women’s prison in the northeast part of the state — we are given a form upon intake asking what kind of skills we have. Officials who decide job placements say these responses are important in helping assign us a compound job — jobs that generally contribute to the operation of the prison, such as maintenance, sanitation or clerical work.

To learn more about how people are assigned jobs, I spoke to a staffer involved in the process. This staffer, whose name I’m withholding due to restrictions on speaking with media, said they try to place people into jobs where they’ll have the most success. 

Jobs at every Arkansas prison are assigned through a classification committee that’s made up of the heads of each department, they said, such as the captain of the kitchen, the laundry supervisor and the mental health supervisor. 

“If you listed housepainter on your intake forms, then the committee would more than likely place you on paint crew,” they said as an example. “If you listed welding or electrician, you would probably be placed on maintenance.”

But I wonder if sometimes they make assignments on a whim.

I filled out my intake paper and told them I have cooking, machinist, housekeeping, farming, caregiving and handyman experience. They assigned me to the kitchen, which I knew, going in, would be very different from cooking for my family.

I was overwhelmed by the massive difference in the volume of meals, but also the lack of experience in the kitchen. The “head” cook, for example, didn’t know the first thing about cooking. A lot of women working in the kitchen — some twice my age — didn’t even know how to boil water.

In my experience, we are not trained for any jobs here. We are thrown in the deep end and expected to know or learn as well as we can.

I was one of the lucky ones. I learned and evolved quickly, adjusting to the institution’s large recipes. 

At one point, people started writing to the kitchen captain, thanking her for the change in food. They said to tell the cook that some of the dishes were the best they’d had in years. 

That gave me a boost of confidence and pride. I take great pleasure in cooking for others. It’s a kind of therapy, too. 

The kitchen captain asked me to train cooks on other shifts, which I did gladly. I told the captain we needed to do a certificate program to give the ladies throughout the kitchen some skills they could use here and take home.

But that shouldn’t have been needed. I shouldn’t have been the Band-Aid to an ill-equipped system.

I have enjoyed cooking here. I’ve also gained other skills working with electricity, welding, soldering and more. The one certificate I have is from completing a dog training program.

Upon my release, I will seek employment with my head held high. And I take great pride in sharing what knowledge I can with others when and where I can.

My only wish is to have the pay — and maybe even those small paper certificates — to show for all that work.