WORKING AT THE YMCA

After my last two posts about female corrections employees falling in love with male convicts, I guess I should probably emphasize that male corrections employees are not immune from this either. I remember a male librarian’s assistant (let’s call him LA) who didn’t seem to understand just how dangerous working with inmates could be. I had to laugh the first time he walked through our school building. “That’s Tyburski,” he said, nodding in the direction of an elderly prisoner. Tyburski, aka Freezer Man, a former Detroit Public School administrator, had killed his wife in a fit of rage and kept her padlocked in the basement freezer for three years.

Somewhat taken aback by LA’s comment, the corrections officer on duty asked LA how he knew the inmate. “I was one of the jurors,” he said, as if this tidbit of information were unimportant, as if he were ready to get reacquainted with the man he helped convict. If it were me, my initial reaction would have been: “Get me out of here. I’ll tell you about it once we’re on the other side of these walls.”

Not LA. From the beginning, his mannerisms and nonchalant attitude sent red flares all over the compound. It wasn’t long and custody and noncustody alike were talking about LA. Typical comments were: “He’s got too much sugar in his tank.” “He’s light in his loafers.” “He’s Mr. Twinkle-Toes.” I even heard an officer singing a Navy song where he emphasized men, Men, MEN, MEN, men, Men, MEN, MEN and midstream switched to the “YMCA Song” by the Village People.

Now I’m not one to judge a person based on their sexual orientation; however, when a student of mine disappeared during count time, and they found him behind a locked office door with LA, what was I to think? After numerous warnings, custody staff kept LA on a short leash, questioning his motives every chance they could. One time they caught him coming through the front gate with female anatomy polaroids in his jacket. He claimed that he had forgotten they were there, that they were shots of his girlfriend. Our union representative told me otherwise. “It was fairly obvious that these were photos of different women. Big breasts. Small breasts. You name it.”

LA survived that ordeal with a verbal warning. It wasn’t until after I had transferred that he was fired. His offense: Smuggling in a bag of marijuana. I guess he wanted to party with the big boys.