Post by Anja on Aug 14, 2006 4:00:37 GMT -5
Ex-prison staffers say helping inmates brought reprisals ---- Correction
director says he, too, has seen evidence of retaliation
Last year, Correctional Sgt. Renee Bevry was named employee of the year at
the Idaho State Correctional Institution south of Boise. 3 weeks ago, she
sent off a heated resignation letter to 50 people and left her job with
her daughter, Correctional Officer Sylvia Henry, in tow.
The two women, known to inmates and staff as Ma Bev and Baby Bev, said
they quit after four years at the department because they faced
retaliation for standing up for inmates. New Correction Director Vaughn
Killeen said Friday that he, too, has seen evidence of retaliation at the
department and begun an internal audit.
"I am not going to tolerate any wrongdoing by any employee that engages in
retaliation," Killeen told the Idaho Statesman through a spokeswoman.
Killeen's comments were general and not in response to Bevry and Henry,
the spokeswoman said.
This fall, Bevry and Henry plan to launch a nonprofit organization, called
Scorpions, to help keep inmates from re-offending and to help ex-convicts
counsel schoolchildren against committing crimes.
"The people we left behind need to know that we left so they can be
empowered, and we appreciate the overwhelming response we've gotten from
staff," said Bevry, 40. "I wanted to leave while I was still balanced,
while I still had my integrity."
Bevry and Henry, 24, declined to discuss exactly what led to their
resignations, saying they are still talking to the department, but said it
involved retaliation against inmates and employees. They said their work
environment had become unsafe.
Retaliation against employees may come as demotions or reassignments, and
retaliation against inmates may mean being moved to a higher security
level or to another prison, they said.
The spokeswoman for the Correction Department said it could not comment in
detail on Bevry and Henry's allegations while an investigation is under
way.
"The Department of Correction is currently conducting an internal
investigation regarding issues surrounding their complaints," spokeswoman
Melinda Keckler said. "However, it appears that their summation of events
may not be accurate."
Problems with retaliation
But Killeen said he had announced this week to department management that
he would conduct a cultural audit of prisons statewide, involving
interviews with supervisors and employees to determine whether retaliation
is taking place. Killeen said he needs time to ferret out the truth, but
said he had heard enough to merit concern.
Andrew Hanhardt, president of the local chapter of the National
Association of Government Employees, which represents correctional
employees and other state workers, said department employees live in fear
of retaliation.
"They're pretty spooked over at corrections," Hanhardt said. "I've had
employees who have been subjected to involuntary demotions and transfers
for filing grievances."
Hanhardt said he knows Bevry to be honest, though he hadn't spoken to
Bevry and Henry about their cases. "If Bevry is telling you that, I'd take
it to the bank," he said.
Rep. Debbie Field, R-Boise, chairwoman of the House Judiciary, Rules and
Administration Committee, said employee fear of retaliation was once high,
but she hadn't heard complaints in recent years.
"People would call me in the middle of the night and wouldn't give me
their names," Field said. "I hope if people were feeling that way ... they
would call again."
From 2002 to 2006, 35 employees filed grievances against the department,
according to the state Division of Human Resources. The vast majority were
employees challenging dismissals, demotions and suspensions, though state
hearing officers found for the department in nearly every case. Bevry and
Henry have not filed a grievance but are consulting a lawyer.
Working to empower inmates
After the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Bevry said she told her two children
they needed to be in uniform. For son Robert, that meant joining the U.S.
Air Force and fighting in the Iraq war. For single mom Henry, that meant
training to become a correctional officer. After training, she began work
at the department in May 2002, and her mother followed soon after.
The women said they liked the groups of officers they were working with,
and they felt encouraged to do things they believed in. Henry married the
department's captain of security in 2004, though they have since divorced.
In 2005, Bevry was promoted to sergeant and received the
employee-of-the-year honor for superior supervisory abilities.
In their four years with the department, the women worked at ISCI, the
Idaho Maximum Security Institution and the South Idaho Correctional
Institution, overseeing inmates in community custody, minimum security,
medium security, maximum security and death row.
At ISCI, Henry supervised a work crew of inmates in the kitchen. She said
she was able to create a functioning work environment that included white
supremacists and Mexican-American gang members.
When the men made progress in that environment, she said, she wrote
positive reviews allowing them to be released on parole earlier than they
might have otherwise.
"I worked with everybody from murderers to child molesters to robbers, and
I treated them all the same," Henry said. "Our goal in life was to make
sure these guys knew how to act when they left."
Many inmates have been in prison their entire adult lives and are clueless
about what to do when they get out, Henry said. She said she made the men
checklists of what to do on the outside, including how early to get up for
work and how to treat their wives. Their work supplemented the work of
parole officers, who are tasked with reintroducing inmates to the
community.
Helping inmates outside prisons
Bevry spent much of her time coordinating the department's Speak-Out
program, bringing children into prisons to hear inmates' stories. Sylvia
Olvera, an adviser to the Future Hispanic Leaders of America at Caldwell
High School, said she brought 62 students to Bevry's Speak-Out - and it
saved some of their lives.
"I think she's doing an outstanding job," Olvera said. "When they hear it
and they see a person behind bars and they see the consequences of what is
happening, they get it."
The program helped the inmates as much as the students, Bevry said. She
also worked to remind imprisoned men of the value of their families. She
spoke often of her husband and worked to revamp the family visiting center
at ISCI, donating books and commissioning inmates to create a mural. They
used coffee from the prison cafeteria to stain the wood.
But Henry and Bevry said they were criticized by other officers and
staffers for helping offenders. They said they were called "hug-a-thugs"
and accused of sexual impropriety when they advised inmates or wrote
reports praising inmates who made progress.
Now that they're no longer in the department, they said, they can help
inmates once they leave prison - contact forbidden to correctional
officers. Bevry and Henry said they know how to talk to inmates and what
they need.
"It was really my son's visit home a few weeks ago that gave me the
confidence to leave the department," Bevry said, recalling her son's
bravery in Iraq. They took the name Scorpions in honor of a base where her
son stayed.
Bevry and Henry hope to work with local and state agencies and community
organizations to help keep people out of prison. They're exploring a
possible collaboration with Healthy Families Nampa.
"I come head to head with these guys, and I change them," Bevry said.
"Since they're all going to get out and be your neighbor, you tell me what
kind of mindset you want that inmate in."
(source: Idaho Statesman)
director says he, too, has seen evidence of retaliation
Last year, Correctional Sgt. Renee Bevry was named employee of the year at
the Idaho State Correctional Institution south of Boise. 3 weeks ago, she
sent off a heated resignation letter to 50 people and left her job with
her daughter, Correctional Officer Sylvia Henry, in tow.
The two women, known to inmates and staff as Ma Bev and Baby Bev, said
they quit after four years at the department because they faced
retaliation for standing up for inmates. New Correction Director Vaughn
Killeen said Friday that he, too, has seen evidence of retaliation at the
department and begun an internal audit.
"I am not going to tolerate any wrongdoing by any employee that engages in
retaliation," Killeen told the Idaho Statesman through a spokeswoman.
Killeen's comments were general and not in response to Bevry and Henry,
the spokeswoman said.
This fall, Bevry and Henry plan to launch a nonprofit organization, called
Scorpions, to help keep inmates from re-offending and to help ex-convicts
counsel schoolchildren against committing crimes.
"The people we left behind need to know that we left so they can be
empowered, and we appreciate the overwhelming response we've gotten from
staff," said Bevry, 40. "I wanted to leave while I was still balanced,
while I still had my integrity."
Bevry and Henry, 24, declined to discuss exactly what led to their
resignations, saying they are still talking to the department, but said it
involved retaliation against inmates and employees. They said their work
environment had become unsafe.
Retaliation against employees may come as demotions or reassignments, and
retaliation against inmates may mean being moved to a higher security
level or to another prison, they said.
The spokeswoman for the Correction Department said it could not comment in
detail on Bevry and Henry's allegations while an investigation is under
way.
"The Department of Correction is currently conducting an internal
investigation regarding issues surrounding their complaints," spokeswoman
Melinda Keckler said. "However, it appears that their summation of events
may not be accurate."
Problems with retaliation
But Killeen said he had announced this week to department management that
he would conduct a cultural audit of prisons statewide, involving
interviews with supervisors and employees to determine whether retaliation
is taking place. Killeen said he needs time to ferret out the truth, but
said he had heard enough to merit concern.
Andrew Hanhardt, president of the local chapter of the National
Association of Government Employees, which represents correctional
employees and other state workers, said department employees live in fear
of retaliation.
"They're pretty spooked over at corrections," Hanhardt said. "I've had
employees who have been subjected to involuntary demotions and transfers
for filing grievances."
Hanhardt said he knows Bevry to be honest, though he hadn't spoken to
Bevry and Henry about their cases. "If Bevry is telling you that, I'd take
it to the bank," he said.
Rep. Debbie Field, R-Boise, chairwoman of the House Judiciary, Rules and
Administration Committee, said employee fear of retaliation was once high,
but she hadn't heard complaints in recent years.
"People would call me in the middle of the night and wouldn't give me
their names," Field said. "I hope if people were feeling that way ... they
would call again."
From 2002 to 2006, 35 employees filed grievances against the department,
according to the state Division of Human Resources. The vast majority were
employees challenging dismissals, demotions and suspensions, though state
hearing officers found for the department in nearly every case. Bevry and
Henry have not filed a grievance but are consulting a lawyer.
Working to empower inmates
After the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Bevry said she told her two children
they needed to be in uniform. For son Robert, that meant joining the U.S.
Air Force and fighting in the Iraq war. For single mom Henry, that meant
training to become a correctional officer. After training, she began work
at the department in May 2002, and her mother followed soon after.
The women said they liked the groups of officers they were working with,
and they felt encouraged to do things they believed in. Henry married the
department's captain of security in 2004, though they have since divorced.
In 2005, Bevry was promoted to sergeant and received the
employee-of-the-year honor for superior supervisory abilities.
In their four years with the department, the women worked at ISCI, the
Idaho Maximum Security Institution and the South Idaho Correctional
Institution, overseeing inmates in community custody, minimum security,
medium security, maximum security and death row.
At ISCI, Henry supervised a work crew of inmates in the kitchen. She said
she was able to create a functioning work environment that included white
supremacists and Mexican-American gang members.
When the men made progress in that environment, she said, she wrote
positive reviews allowing them to be released on parole earlier than they
might have otherwise.
"I worked with everybody from murderers to child molesters to robbers, and
I treated them all the same," Henry said. "Our goal in life was to make
sure these guys knew how to act when they left."
Many inmates have been in prison their entire adult lives and are clueless
about what to do when they get out, Henry said. She said she made the men
checklists of what to do on the outside, including how early to get up for
work and how to treat their wives. Their work supplemented the work of
parole officers, who are tasked with reintroducing inmates to the
community.
Helping inmates outside prisons
Bevry spent much of her time coordinating the department's Speak-Out
program, bringing children into prisons to hear inmates' stories. Sylvia
Olvera, an adviser to the Future Hispanic Leaders of America at Caldwell
High School, said she brought 62 students to Bevry's Speak-Out - and it
saved some of their lives.
"I think she's doing an outstanding job," Olvera said. "When they hear it
and they see a person behind bars and they see the consequences of what is
happening, they get it."
The program helped the inmates as much as the students, Bevry said. She
also worked to remind imprisoned men of the value of their families. She
spoke often of her husband and worked to revamp the family visiting center
at ISCI, donating books and commissioning inmates to create a mural. They
used coffee from the prison cafeteria to stain the wood.
But Henry and Bevry said they were criticized by other officers and
staffers for helping offenders. They said they were called "hug-a-thugs"
and accused of sexual impropriety when they advised inmates or wrote
reports praising inmates who made progress.
Now that they're no longer in the department, they said, they can help
inmates once they leave prison - contact forbidden to correctional
officers. Bevry and Henry said they know how to talk to inmates and what
they need.
"It was really my son's visit home a few weeks ago that gave me the
confidence to leave the department," Bevry said, recalling her son's
bravery in Iraq. They took the name Scorpions in honor of a base where her
son stayed.
Bevry and Henry hope to work with local and state agencies and community
organizations to help keep people out of prison. They're exploring a
possible collaboration with Healthy Families Nampa.
"I come head to head with these guys, and I change them," Bevry said.
"Since they're all going to get out and be your neighbor, you tell me what
kind of mindset you want that inmate in."
(source: Idaho Statesman)