Personal Narrative: My Field Trip To Correctional Prison Center

I sat in a small, dirty and crowded holding cell in Fort Bend County jail. Sitting here waiting to get processed and see the nurse, Mane! These men in this holding cell were all fucking trifling. There were cells for suicidal inmates, crazy inmates, murderers and those going through drug withdrawal. The smell of musty underarms, alcohol and feet made it unbearable to breath. It was time for me to live with the consequences of the choices I had made. The newest consequence was the foreboding environment of a small, overcrowded county jail.

"Count!" The prison guard yelled on a brisk Saturday in Maidens, Virginia. I watched as the prisoners lined the walls of the James River Correctional Facility. While the majority of my friends spent their Saturdays enjoying pizza and ice cream with their family, my Saturdays consisted of being in a prison visitation room. My father was serving a thirty year sentence for distributing crack cocaine. As the years went on, I began to look forward to seeing the barbed wire and prison guards. I knew that in the midst of the penitentiary environment, I would at least be able to see a father figure for a few hours.

Have you ever noticed anything that is exactly like something else? No, me either! But as a criminal justice student, I’m being forced to compare one of the things that we’ll probably see in our everyday life. That one thing is the difference between two jails. As we were visiting the two different jails I noticed a lot of things that were different like building, the security, the visitation area, the prison area, the holding cells, the work rooms, there were a lot of things that were different. So I’ll like to take the time to tell you about three of the things that stood out to me.

On Thursday 12/01/16 at 2236 hours I was dispatched to Terminal Park Elementary School located at 1101 D ST SE because four juveniles had knocked over a donation bin and were throwing rocks at the school (reference AP160088033). Dispatch advised it was possibly related to two other malicious mischief calls that had just previously occurred in the nearby area.

San Quentin state prison is in San Francisco, California, which is the only prison in California that still executes prisoners. The prison has housed several famous prisoners over the years; however, it has a big problem with gangs inside the prison. I will discover the background of the warden that is in charge, the history of the prison, and the problems that circulate within the prison.

When we were told that we would be going into Muscogee County Jail to interview inmates, I had many mixed emotions: anxious, excited, curiosity. When registering for this class, I was not told what I would be doing while taking this course so being told we were going in the jail was pretty shocking and surprising. I remember sitting there and thinking how am I, someone who is not even a criminal justice major (I am a sociology major), suppose to have a conversation with an inmate about what is going on within the system not knowing anything about the system. The feeling of inadequacy was real and led to a state of confusion and thinking I couldn't relate to these inmates or do the job I was sent in there to do.

Hey little brother sorry you can't call. I don't have any money on the phone. I haven't spoken with Mj in a month. I am so heartbroken. Your wife told me the great news and I am so happy for you both. Like I told Lamont I really don't talk to no one in Michigan. Kristy (1-2 times a week) Aretha and Fred (every other 3-4 months) maybe. Mom and Cass never. So that's that. You, Lamont and Mj are my concerns as long as you all let me be in your lives I will be. I love all my family dearly; however, along the way we have lost vital parts of who we are as a family. I think long incarcerations have made some feel that they are not family. Many people have forgotten who they are as simply Africans but on a basic level in this family we have forgotten

Sing Sing Correctional facility was an eye opening experience. Not only did correctional officer Rodriquez give an amazing tour of the facility, but he did it all without loosing his breath walking up and down all those steep stairs with little oxygen just a whole bunch of humidity, due to the fact that in many places we went to had no windows, or they did, but they were closed.

I sat on the prison floor and waited until the long hand would hit 12:00. I was there since 9:00 a.m, and after three hours have passed, I took a glance at the clock only to find five minutes have passed. Of course, I have no idea what prison is actually like, but I can only imagine it would feel similar to Sunday school. I attend Chua Duc Vien every Sunday, where Su Co, the head of the temple and principle of the school, would narrate heartfelt stories that taught students an impactful moral lesson, which ironically, would keep us out of prison. The stories were entertaining to the younger students, but to me and those in my class, we could not care less. Those last thirty minutes to my peers and I were nothing more than a daily chore. When

Hey how are you doing? My name is Sheterrica Lenard and I've been working since I was 16 years old and I have all the experience that is required for this position. I have 5 years of experience in supervising and coordinating work of other correctional officers, I also can drive passenger vehicles and trucks used to transport inmates to other institutions, courtrooms, hospitals and work sites. I counsel inmates and respond to legitimate questions, concerns, and requests. I have also participate in required job training. After being in school for 8 years, majoring inn this field, I know I meet all required standards for this position. Although not all police departments require their detectives to possess a college degree, the shift toward a

On Christmas day of 2012 I remember sitting on a dirty cold bench at the Women's Correctional Center in San Mateo County. My dad and I sat patiently waiting to see my mother behind a glass window as thick as a brick. It had been two weeks since I hugged her but not the first time I visited her in jail. She landed there plenty of times before so I knew what to expect.

I don't remember how I met you in 1st grade, but I do remember when you used to be taller than me and had braces. I remember asking you what a period (menstrual) was, and the days when we talked about relationships—I mean we still do, haha. I remember going to the Sacramento field trip with you in 4th grade, when we carpooled to the airport at five in the morning and how you were there when I experienced my first time on a plane. I remember seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows together and then getting In-N-Out afterwards. I remember when we both did Beginner and Advanced Strings in 5th grade. I remember having the same cabin as you at 6th grade camp. Going to the Big Bear trip with Ben, Bob and Josh last year and being there when I

A teenagers boss put him on the corner holding a sign, but it wasn't to drum up business for his company, Precision Construction & Investments, LLC.

I started my externship on January 7 2016, at Santiam Correctional Institution (SCI). My preceptor is Irving Loretta. Because this is a correctional my clinical site is very small and they only provide limited services. They provide the basic health services such as lab tests, wound care, EKG’s, x-rays, injections, blood draws, vitals, and medications. Besides this basic services any other major health service an inmate may need are done outside in a community clinic.

On August 8th, 2012 I received a call from an unknown number, claiming to be from the Northern Nevada Correctional Center (NNCC). I had no idea who could be calling me from that number at 7:38PM. I heard a familiar voice on the other line telling me to stay calm and go to my step mothers house, that same familiar voice also told me that he was arrested and convicted of a felony. My heart sunk into my stomach, tears running down my face, feeling paralyzed with no words to speak, not knowing what to ask or say. That familiar voice was my dad, this call happened 5 days after my birthday, the first birthday that he actually remembered after 10 years. Never in a million years would I have thought on receiving an alarming