Several months ago, a group of women gathered in the common room of our maximum security prison. They were loud and rowdy. A young officer trainee instructed the women to quiet down, according to women who witnessed the incident. But the women responded with derisive laughter and snide remarks. In response, the trainee lost his temper and yelled: “This is my common room: I own these tables, I own these chairs, and I own all of you!”
Some women who observed the incident said a more senior officer who was present did not intervene.
The explosive scene was indicative of a larger shift underway at the State Correctional Institution at Muncy, in Pennsylvania.
In an effort to fill staff vacancies, the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections has joined other state systems in recruiting younger officers. But the influx of young hires — some as young as 18 — has led to some growing pains for both officers and incarcerated women at SCI Muncy, a medium and maximum security facility for women in central Pennsylvania. Changes in institutional dynamics have some women concerned about how these dynamics impact safety and morale.
There are about two dozen corrections officers and trainees ranging in age from 18 to 22 who currently work at Muncy, according to staff members I spoke to for this article, all of whom asked to remain anonymous because of employee restrictions on speaking to journalists.
In an email to a PJP editor, Pennsylvania Department of Corrections spokesperson Maria Bivens said that staffing levels have stabilized. Lowering the hiring age “helps us expand the department’s applicant pool while recognizing that today’s workforce is becoming more diverse in age, background, experience and perspective,” she said.
Safety and emotions
Incarcerated women at Muncy said they worry the department’s focus on hiring younger officers may compromise the safety of everyone living and working in the prison.
“I’ve noticed that many of the younger officers seem scared, and I can’t blame them because this is one of the most dangerous jobs you can have,” said Jennifer, a woman who lives in my housing unit. “At 18 years old, you can’t even purchase alcohol or tobacco. This job seems a little more dangerous than alcohol or tobacco.”
“Officers need patience and maturity to deal with different kinds of people and volatile situations,” said Amanda, who has been incarcerated at Muncy for 12 years. “Most of these trainees seem overwhelmed, nervous and uncertain — all of the things you can’t be as a CO.”
According to Bivens, the year-long trainee period is designed to give new staff the time, supervision and practical experience needed to adjust to the responsibilities of working inside a correctional facility. The program aims to ensure officer trainees receive structured training and mentoring before assuming the full duties of a corrections officer, Bivens said.
Still, many of the women I interviewed for this article — women who could be the mothers, grandmothers and even great-grandmothers of these new officers — have been incarcerated for decades for crimes that they committed when they were young adults. They are well aware of how devastating the consequences can be if one lacks emotional regulation skills.
“At 18 years old, you don’t even really know who you are yet. Most 18-year-olds have a hard time controlling their emotions,” said my cellmate Della, who has been incarcerated at Muncy for 19 years. “Correctional officers are here for care, custody and control. How are you supposed to exert any kind of responsible control over the people you have authority over when you can’t even control your own emotions?”
Bivens told PJP that trainees assigned to a women’s facility receive extra training beyond their academy courses, including a specific course called “Women Offenders in Pennsylvania Corrections,” which includes guidance on maintaining professional boundaries, understanding trauma-informed practices, and recognizing behavioral and mental health concerns.
Yet the emotional pendulum can swing too far in the other direction, too. Many of the young officers appear intimidated to the point that it hinders their ability to do their jobs.
“I heard one young CO actually make the comment that he didn’t want to tell anyone not to do something because he didn’t want to make anyone mad at him,” Jennifer said. “That’s just an open invitation for inmates to do whatever they want and for chaos to ensue.”
Generational and cultural rifts
Some residents have questioned whether these young trainees, with so little life experience, are prepared to interact with a diverse and high-security prison population.
“There is a certain dynamic within this environment that requires lived experience in order to be effective, which these youth do not possess,” said Nikki, an educational tutor who has been incarcerated for 22 years. “For example, a lot of these officers are from the surrounding rural area. Interacting with incarcerated individuals from diverse backgrounds is a challenge for them despite any training they’ve received. One size does not fit all.”
Even fellow officers have their reservations about the young recruits.
“They’re content to play on their computer all day and do the bare minimum, which makes for a long shift,” the officer said. “Many of these kids have even been getting busted by the higher-ups for bringing their vapes on state grounds and smoking them during their shift.”
He went on to recount an incident in which “one of these kids,” as he put it, had her vape confiscated.
“She complained about it for the rest of the shift,” the officer said. “They really are just as bad as the inmates, if not worse.”
Bivens told PJP that employees can address workplace conflict through their chain of command. “Unionized staff may pursue complaints through their collective bargaining agreement, which provides a structured grievance process and access to arbitration,” she added.
A young officer’s view
A young officer told me that multiple attempts to assert his authority haven’t been taken seriously.
“I don’t think the disrespect has anything to do with my age though,” he said. He is 21 years old. “Normally, when I give people respect, I get it back. But you have some inmates who are going to be disrespectful no matter what. It’s just the kind of people they are.”
The officer, who said he was initially intimidated about working at a maximum security prison, acknowledged that disrespect comes from all directions: “Staff can be dickheads, too.”
The officer added that he tries not to allow others’ perceptions of him to impede his job performance.
Incarcerated at age 14, I grew up inside prison walls. I know firsthand that prisons are not appropriate environments for developing minds. Ten years later, I am still significantly younger than many of the women with whom I’m serving time. Many still consider me a kid. It is an unnerving feeling to know that someone six years younger than me wields near-total control and authority over me. After I thanked the officer and walked away, I wondered if he would be able to hold on to his kindness in such a corrosive environment.
