FORUM on Corrections Research

Women working in a men's jail

When you think about a correctional officer (prison guard) in a men's prison, what image comes to mind? Burly, "no-nonsense" men? A man with a gun standing in a sentry tower? Whatever your image (accurate or otherwise), it probably does not include women, because the majority of correctional officers in prisons for men are men.

Nevertheless, many women do work in correctional institutions - all Canadian federal prisons have included female guards since 1983.

Like most women working in male-dominated professions, female correctional officers must deal with problems and barriers rooted in sexism. In fact, the perception of working in a non-traditional workplace for women is intensified in prisons for men: not only is most of the staff male, but the focus of the job is the care and control of men.

A recent study attempted to present a detailed picture of what it is like to be a woman working as a correctional officer in a jail for men. If nothing else, it revealed that female guards in men's jails find themselves in a confusing position.

On the one hand, to be female is to be different, an outsider. On the other hand, female guards have much in common with, and are sympathetic to, their male peers as a result of their shared job experience. Methodology The research site was a modern, urban Canadian jail (where the author formerly worked as a correctional officer), which houses 150 men awaiting trial or bail. The institution was designed to accommodate women as correctional officers - the inmates' shower stalls and toilets were enclosed, and there were separate change facilities for female correctional officers. With the exception of one post requiring "skin frisks," women were assigned to perform all duties within the jail.

In 1990-1991, in-depth interviews were conducted with 21 female guards (approximately half the number of women who have ever worked as guards in the jail), 17 women working in jobs traditionally held by women in a jail (nurses, clerks, librarians), and 6 correctional managers. Numerous informal discussions were also conducted with male and female correctional officers and former inmates.

The average age (at the time of hiring) of the correctional officers interviewed was 24. Of the 21 female guards, 6 had a university degree and all but 2 had some post-secondary education. Working styles of male and female guards Most of the female correctional officers said they performed the job with a less aggressive style than men, not necessarily out of preference, but because of different life experiences and physical limitations. Most women are smaller than men, and women are socialized to fulfil helping rather than aggressive roles.

Therefore, the female guards used different skills than the men. By relying heavily on verbal skills and intuition, the women were able to get the inmates to co-operate and were more likely to talk out problems and perhaps diffuse potential violence.

Another indication that women perform their job differently is that the female guards relied more heavily than men on the internal disciplinary procedure. This suggests that female officers may be more likely to rely on established and legitimized means of discipline than to bully or threaten.

The skills employed by men and women there-fore complement each other. Women may humanize the workplace in small ways by establishing less aggressive relationships with inmates. As well, if issues are resolved by negotiation rather than by force, there is less chance of injury to either inmates or staff.

By and large, the respondents felt that male guards believe female guards competently perform the day-to-day tasks of the job. But the respondents also reported that many men expressed concerns that women would not be able to back them up in a crisis situation. At this point, the men feel the job becomes real "men's work."

It is important here to note that the use of force in a jail is the exception and that officers do not respond to dangerous situations alone. In fact, guards spend hours practising a unified response to an emergency because in crisis situations the individual size and strength of the officer are not as important as the discipline and co-ordination of the group.

But the female correctional officers reported that in emergency situations some men adopt a protective, chivalrous attitude toward them. The women resented this treatment, feeling that they are seen as a liability and that the male officers place themselves in danger by not concentrating fully on the situation at hand.

Physical prowess and a willingness to enter into physical confrontations are also a way of generating esteem and peer acceptance. When women are kept out of crisis situations, they are denied a crucial means of gaining peer acceptance. Personal and sexual harassment Most of the women reported that they did not personally experience unwanted touching or suggestions (sexual harassment in the narrowest sense). When asked if sexual harassment was a problem, many replied, "not for me."

The same women then went on to describe "other harassment" (from male peers), which included physical assaults, threats, unfounded graphic sexual rumours about individual women, and daily doses of demeaning remarks from peers, inmates and supervisors.

Although some women did describe dramatic episodes of harassment, they most often referred to an undercurrent of sexism and inequality.

One form of sexual harassment involves rumours about female correctional officers, primarily speculation about their sexual orientation or sex lives. For example, many female correctional officers reported that they are assumed to be lesbians by people both inside and outside the criminal justice system.

Women are also frequently rumoured to be sexually involved with both supervisors and inmates.

Further, one of the main social activities for correctional officers is to go out drinking after work. But if women go out and drink with the men, they are often assumed to be promiscuous; a favourite myth among men is that loose women get what they deserve, like harassment.

Harassment from inmates was not reported to be a big problem. Inmates were said to be generally favourable or neutral toward women's employment in prisons. Inmates reported that female guards treat them better than men, as the women are less confrontational and more willing to carry out requests. As such, the prisoners have much to gain by ensuring that women remain.

Female correctional officers also have more direct and effective options for dealing with the harassing behaviour of inmates. They can simply charge the inmate with a disciplinary infraction.

However, most women don't complain about harassment from staff. Harassment is seen as normal in the male culture of the jail, so it becomes customary and is viewed as having little importance. It is also assumed to be inevitable and the price women have to pay for working in a jail.

Most important, the burden of dealing with harassment is placed squarely on the shoulders of the victims. They can either tolerate it or face even worse problems if they report it. The women expressed a real fear of being isolated if they were to complain. They would almost certainly be isolation, ostracized, blamed and accused of overreacting. Why? Prisons have a strong subculture, and this creates a great deal of pressure to remain loyal to other officers. Guards have a code of behaviour that strongly prohibits informing or "ratting" on one's peer group - a "rat" is despised and isolated for his or her disloyalty to the group.

As well, the women reported that the most significant consequence for the "harasser" would be a transfer to another institution, where he would be free to harass again. The likely outcome of a complaint would be merely a reprimand or a short suspension.

In a nutshell, women don't complain about harassment because it is a now in situation. The costs of complaining simply outweigh the benefits. Coping in the men's world of the jail To cope, most of the women simply accepted what they felt they could not change. They sought male approval and endured the difficulties of the job without protest. It seems most female correctional officers try to maintain harmonious relationships with their male peers and not draw attention to themselves, hoping to be left alone to do their jobs.

The women also dealt with the difficult working environment through some form of withdrawal. This could mean taking stress leave, becoming apathetic or emotionally detached, refraining from unnecessary social contact with colleagues, or even quitting.

Other women found a set of "sympathetic others" in the workplace, who provided moral support, acceptance and feelings of being a normal person because they shared both the experiences of the job and the sense of Recommendations The study found that female correctional officers see themselves as competent on the job, but with a less aggressive manner of carrying out their duties than some of their male peers. Yet, they receive unwanted paternalistic protection that devalues them in the correctional organization. Female guards also experience both personal and sexual harassment, which becomes normalized and accepted by both men and women.

Female guards cope with the challenges and frustrations of their jobs by either gaining some measure of acceptance in the workplace, simply tolerating difficulties (including personal or sexual harassment), or somehow withdrawing from the workplace.

Considering this, the study recommended that 1) managers and guards undergo training to sensitize them to the problems of women working in prisons; 2) strong policy prohibiting sexual and personal harassment - with mechanisms for complaints existing outside the paramilitary chain - be established, with significant consequences for "harassers"; and 3) job candidates be screened for their ability and willingness to develop relationships built on mutual respect with female colleagues.

---

(M.I. Cadwaladr, "Breaking into Jail: Women Working in a Men's Jail," M.A. thesis, Department of Sociology and Anthropology, The University of British Columbia, 1993.)