Routine Case

I recall my past experiences and how they have made me. How I was once known as Lauren people now refer to me as Allen. Allen is the officer that puts on her uniform and demands control of any given situation; this has been six years in the making. My environment has forced me to become a dominant creature fearful with the unknowing of what is to come next. The enclosure of the bobbed wired fences, the 24/7 brightness of the lights, slamming of the gates, and yells of aggression from built up testosterone have become all too familiar. The fear is the unknowing of what is to come next. When will the next fight (10-33) happen? When will the next assault take place of a rape victim? Will I be held hostage in a riot? Will I return home in the same frame of mind? This is the life and routine within the gates of a maximum security state prison for men.

Although there are set outlines and principles that govern the control of the prison there is always the unknown. There are routines that are outlined for the offenders with dress codes to be followed: a cotton light blue dress shirt, Levi 501 stone wash blue jeans, state issued under garments that are white, and brown laced work boots. All offenders are forced to stand for count periodically throughout the day. There is always the unknown of what is to happen in these set times.

I recall my first day of work as a newly pinned officer. I remember everything on my drive to work what was a forty-five minute drive felt like an hour and a half. The trees swayed in a different way that day, I stopped at every traffic light looking at everything that was around me from the red Chevy Malibu that followed me, to the five cars at the BP gas station. I pulled into the desolate parking lot closest to the only tree for miles. I walked fifty yards to the front gate which felt like a mile. Slowly I walked up the side walk in my shined patented leather shoes. When I came to the door I took one last sigh and hit the red buzzer to enter. I entered and the