For the majority of people behind bars, working a job is not optional. The 13th Amendment abolished slavery and involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for a crime. In fact, more than 75% of incarcerated workers report that they are required to work or face additional punishment, according to a report by the American Civil Liberties Union.
Prison jobs vary widely, but these work assignments often come with minimal training and meager compensation. Once assigned to a job, it can be difficult to switch to another. Despite performing much of the work required to keep prisons running — and sometimes finding real meaning in their work — many people make pennies per hour for their labor.
For Labor Day, we asked three PJP contributors to write about their jobs in an overlooked sector of the U.S. workforce. Here is what they said.
— PJP Editors
Shawn Harris, 54, Prison Orderly
Hourly pay in Pennsylvania: 23 to 51 cents
My job is to help take care of Mr. Anderson, a 79-year-old Vietnam veteran and an excellent singer. He mostly sings old R&B songs. It helps take his mind off the throbbing pain in his legs.
Mr. Anderson has a condition affecting his arteries, which restricts blood flow and causes severe swelling. His legs are the size of basketballs. It’s my responsibility to clean the wounds on his legs and replace his bandages.
First, I hoist Mr. Anderson onto his bed so that his legs dangle off the side. I remove his socks, which are usually soaked with pus. Then I remove the elastic bandage and sterile pads underneath that cover his wound.
Next I clean each of his legs with antibacterial soap and spray before applying absorbent pads. With those set, I massage lotion into his legs and wrap them with clean elastic bandages.
Despite his pain, Mr. Anderson is always polite and cordial. He is knowledgeable, so I love sitting with him and picking his brain. He claims he is a Scrabble savant. I am trying to get him to play with me because I know it’s good for him to use his mind.
Tanya Legg, 50, Suicide Companion
Hourly pay in Federal Bureau of Prisons: 12 to 15 cents
(Note: Tanya does not get paid for her volunteer work)
My volunteer job is deceptively simple: sit, listen and document while being present for people suffering with suicidal ideation. No amount of formal training prepared me for this.
As a suicide companion in a federal prison, I met a woman named Amber who had recently lost her son to gang violence. I sat outside the cold, dank suicide cell. Amber’s eyes were red from crying. Separated by glass, I asked her if she wanted to talk. I prayed I could find the right words to comfort her.
She shook her head no, which left me feeling both grateful and guilty. I didn’t know what it felt like to lose my only son. I just sat there feeling like we were both drowning in silence and sadness. But at least she wasn’t alone.
In this position, I have confronted the full spectrum of human suffering. I volunteered for the role, not to change federal prisons overnight but to hold a space for the lost and forgotten — to whisper into the void in their hearts that someone still cares.
David Bomber, 53, CNC Machine Operator
Hourly pay in Virginia prisons: 27 to 90 cents
Roughly 70 guys spill out of the building around 5:15 a.m., all heading to the woodshop.
In the woodshop, every worker is required to change from “prison blues” into a smock and work pants.
I work as a computer numerical control, or CNC, machine operator. Machinists like me set up and operate equipment to produce specific parts used in all kinds of industries.
Most of what is made in this department are chair parts, the measurements for which must be precise, or else they won’t fit together properly.
Learning any of these machines benefits someone interested in this line of work upon release; this particular trade is in demand these days.
My job gives me a sense of responsibility, purpose and motivation. I take pride in what I do.
