Broken: Dedication Will Never Be Enough

By Celestino P Monclova

Please do not read if you want an entertaining narrative, a suspense or romance novel, a scientific or action thriller.

The following is a series of events that took place from 2000 to 2020. Two-thirds of that time I worked for Rikers as a correction officer (CO). In my defense, I must confess that I was too tall, too opinionated, too theatrical, too self-righteous, and I could not keep my mouth shut. If I repeat myself, it is because I think it must be repeated to make a point. Hopefully, documenting the events I experienced will bring me inner peace and maybe give hope to others who find themselves in similar circumstances.

This is the story of my recollection of some of the events that happened and often reminisce about. Everything is true. Most of it can be confirmed by newspaper articles, the many docketed federal and state lawsuits, and various other archives. Although I had a hand in trying to lift up a lot of people who were falling prey to the chaos and corruption that ran rampant throughout that whole department, at no time did I ever declare or think for one minute that I was anyone’s hero or savior.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662445651

Book preview

Job Qualifications vs. Job Expectations

The New York City Department of Correction is not really looking for highly trained professionals. What they want and need most are candidates that will be able to endure the long hours locked up alongside the inmate population, able to withstand and endure most of the same inhumane conditions and hardships that come with being locked up like a prisoner.

It is mandatory to have a certain number of correctional staff manning the very many posts; the department’s greatest concern is to have able bodies seated or standing on those posts, monitoring and overseeing all visual movement. The most important fundamental practice for any correction officer is to observe and correct. Even during their meal period, a good correction officer remains vigilant of his surroundings, and at any time if he comes across something out of the ordinary or suspicious, he is the very first on the scene to investigate it and, if possible, correct it.

For the average achiever who is looking for a career they can excel in, some learn almost rather quickly that there is almost no such thing in correction. The handful who actually do the job very well and can single-handedly control the fifty or more of societies incarcerated are always the unsung heroes who receive no formal recognition from their superiors. Yes, they are highly appreciated while at the same time criticized by some of their very own coworkers, multiple superiors, and even the many inmates for their talents and courageous ability(s) to maintain control and order.

Unfortunately, officers who were able to exercise control usually burn out because they are usually poorly evaluated and admonished for their performances when they are called into action. They deal with the weight of constantly being investigated and reprimanded, which unfairly bars them from promotions and special assignments.

A correction officer has a few different names. Some call them jail guards and think their only functions are to guard and watch over the incarcerated. Some see them as night watchmen who only have to sit in one spot and observe. Some even assume they are equivalent to police officers, who have to uphold the law inside jail. In true retrospect, they are all these occupations but so much more.

Like the outside world, jail is a large population that has the same needs and functions as any other community. The only difference is that every single service must be supervised and sometimes even performed by a correction officer. The mass population is made up of labeled criminal violators. There can be little or no trust. Therefore, everyone must be watched.

The incarcerated must be watched because they cannot be trusted; the civilian workers who provide services must be watched because their safety is paramount. Sanitation workers who are usually working inmates who pick up the trash are watched and supervised by a CO. Food preparers who are responsible for the menus and dietary needs of the thousands of people every day who need to be fed on an average of three to four times a day are all watched and supervised by a CO (correction officer). Housekeepers, doctors, nurses, pharmacist, schoolteachers, counselors, religious consultants, construction workers, lawyers, politicians, out-of-town visitors, all of them are watched by a CO.

Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, this gated and fortified community is under lock and key and is under heavy guard, inside and out. The primary goal of all uniform correctional staff is watching. Staff must watch inmates when they are sleeping, they must watch them when they are awake, they are watching them when they are showering and when they are grooming, they are watching them when they are bad and good, and we are always hoping they will be good for everybody’s sake.

Watching

Watching! That is the primary function of all correctional staff. Correction officers are paid to watch the inmates. The captains are paid to watch and supervise the correction officers who are watching the inmates. The assistant deputy wardens are watching the captains, making sure they are watching the correction officers who are watching the inmates. The deputy wardens are the designees to the warden, making sure that the higher chain of command are properly watching the lower chain of command who are all responsible for watching each other, and since 2004, Cyntec camera footage laces every corner, hallway, room, and dorm, watching everybody watching each other. Every so often, the wardens report to the chiefs, sharing their overall reports of everyone who has been watched, which are all officially reported to the commissioner.

While all staff is watching each other making sure that the inmates are being watched, the inmates are watching the correctional staff, looking for weaknesses and vulnerabilities they can so quickly take advantage and profit off. Much like correctional staff, inmates also have their own chain of command they report to, comparing notes, finding flaws in their controlled environment that are all designed to contain and restrict them.

Once one is old enough to know what a jail or prison is—thanks to TV shows, movies, and even documentaries—one is conditioned to think it is a place that lawbreakers are sent to be watched and guarded by the correction officers. We are also taught and conditioned throughout our lives that the correction officers are strong team of loyal officers who are the good guys and the inmates are the evil, callous, and untrusting bad guys. We grow up believing this, we continue to believe it, and for those who choose a career in corrections, we are even trained to believe it. However, once one graduates from the academy and is thrown out in the field, one discovers fast that it is not so black and white, and unlike foreign wars, it is not so much us versus them. Correction officers conflict with many negative adversaries, and inmates are just one of many.

A correction officer hopes he can trust and work with his partners; if not, inmates can see it, and the workday can suffer. Correction officers hope they can work with their supervisors; if not, inmates will see it and the workday suffers. If a correction officer is fortunate enough to have a healthy and trusting working relationship with his partners and supervisor, that is a blessing, but there are still more individual groups who could put ugly obstacles in a correction officer’s way.

Because jails are like an overpopulated gated community for all law violators, there are other civilian professionals who also work inside these fortresses, and because they usually do not see inmates at their worse, they may be inclined to believe an inmate’s sad stories of being abused by guards, which can easily result in over-the top-investigations that always begin with the investigators, advocacy groups, and even judges, depicting the correction officer as the violent and dishonest perpetrator. Funny how a person with a clean record, who passed a test, took classes can easily be reduced to nothing.

To give anyone an idea of how vigilant and intense New York City correction officers are at watching, an article was written in Esquire magazine entitled The Great Rikers Island Art Heist. In this article, it is written how a forty-year-old original Salvador Dalí painting that was worth over a million dollars was stolen out of the jail. At 1:00 a.m. on March 1, 2003, a command-level fire drill was activated, locking down the entire jail population of over two thousand inmates and calling all staffers to muster at a disclosed location for further instructions. With most of the jail being practically deserted, the three supervisors were able to lift the painting and replace it with a forged copy. Less than a few hours after the crime, two correction officers were able to recognize that this painting, that damn near everyone overlooks, was indeed a fake, and an investigation was immediately launched, and in no time, the culprits were caught.

Size and Strength Matters

In the academy, instructors do not emphasize the value of size and strength and the importance to having the ability to fight. Although in their curriculum they do try their best to condition everyone with basic physical fitness and spend a small amount of time teaching a few hand-to-hand defensive tactics. No one really realizes how important it is to be physically able to defend one’s self until they have graduated and have been locked behind that gate, expected to single-handedly maintain law and order, with the many inmates who surround them.

When I first started working as a correction officer, I soon learned that wearing the uniform made little or no difference to the many who were wearing orange, and the shield we wore was not going to protect me or anyone else from some of the assailants who wished us harm. The number one thing every inmate and uniformed officer knew was that size, strength, and the ability to fight commanded respect. Once inmates were brought in and processed, many immediately would start to prepare for their survival.

On the midnights, when the lights are out and everyone is supposed to be tucked in their beds, there would always be at least two or more inmates who are locked in their cell doing countless incline push-ups. They would place their feet on top of the bed and their hands on the floor and work out for hours before retiring under their blankets. At around 5:00 or 6:00 a.m. before the sun starts to rise, the recreational officer would arrive to escort the inmates to yard, giving them only one opportunity for the day to have one hour of outdoor rec. There would be several who were dressed and ready to go before he even arrived; a handful more would crawl out of bed, rushing to keep that appointment. Once they arrived and were accounted for and properly searched, most would utilize that time doing dips, pull-ups, and/or intense running; others would work out with the limited selection of free barbell weights while a fraction would enjoy the outdoor weather playing basketball or handball.

For the late sleepers who missed out on yard but wanted to get their physical training in, some would be in their cells with their mattress rolled up inside their pillowcase and pinned up against the wall, using it as a punching bag. Others would have four or more soda bottles filled with water bound tightly down together with torn sheets, weighing roughly 16 lbs. or more, doing countless dumbbell exercises. One or more inmates would be in the dayroom doing either dips with a stack of chairs parallel from one another or working on their pull-ups using the dayroom’s door frame that is only wide enough to grip with their fingertips. The fortunate ones that have a water pipe that runs across the width of the narrow tier in the unit they have been assigned to will give them the opportunity to do unlimited pull-ups.

People who never bothered to work out when they were in the streets are now dedicated and use a lot of creative ingenuity toward getting healthier and stronger. The scrawny become muscular rather fast, and the overweight become toned and conditioned equally quick.

All this is in preparation to be ready and capable to fight when called upon to do so, and for some of the correction officers the same philosophy holds true. Every facility has a weight room for staff to work out in, and some of them utilized it religiously. There are also a select few gyms that I had belonged to or had visited once or twice where I ran into fellow coworkers who were there and trained awfully hard because what holds true for the inmates also holds true for the correction officer: one’s ability to shell out blows and take blows depends on one’s survival when locked up and confined in a small space, heavily outnumbered with absolutely no place to hide and no place to run.

During my first two years on the job, working different shifts and various assignments, I got to meet just about all the officers (senior and new). Those who were staying fit always found time to work out. Even during their window of downtime, a few would physically train right at their posts, much like the inmates who worked out inside their cells. For a tall young man like myself who weighed only 220 pounds, there were many times I felt like a small cocker spaniel locked in a cage with a pack of oversized Rottweilers and pit bulls.

Although a handful of staffers relied on their size and brute strength when policing the most dangerous borough in NYC, I also had the privilege of meeting a handful of staffers who were average in height and weight but were literally the deadliest people anyone could encounter. Watching them use their fighting skills when forced upon to do so would take an observer’s breath away.

My First Two Years on the Job

When I first started the job, I wanted to learn it. So (under the advice of some old-school supervisors) I did my first two years working in AMKC (Anna M. Kross Center), assigned to rotating shifts, working a different assignment every day. Rotating shifts or the wonder wheel means that every week you have a different shift. One week you will be assigned to the 7:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. tour, the following week the 3:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. tour, and the following week after that 11:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. tour. Having your shift rotated like this and having no clue where you will be assigned let me become familiar with which staff I enjoyed working with and which staff I wanted to avoid. As a new correction officer, you were ostracized and poorly treated by many others who had more time on the job, even if it was only by a year.

I saw some staff show me and other officers less courtesy than they would the inmate who was facing serious time for child molestation. I learned which supervisors to respect and appreciate and which to avoid. I knew one supervisor who was so fair and decent that he would volunteer to be your meal relief just so his subordinates could have a break period. I learned which supervisors wanted to show me the best way to perform my job and were always reliable and willing to assist me if I needed help. But supervisors like that are few and far between. They probably are almost extinct today. Unfortunately, many supervisors and officers I had to work with were on power trips and offered no kind of assistance or help during any hostile predicaments. They were eager to write reprimands and punish their subordinates more than perform their supervisory skills productively.

During my first two years on the job, every day I had strong reservations, constantly wondering and doubting if this profession was for me. I had to deal with the stress of the inmates who wanted to test me physically and emotionally every single chance they got while attempting to emasculate me in front of their audience of cell/bunkmates while also dealing with the variety of nasty partners whom I would occasionally be assigned to. These uncooperative partners would not have two kind words to say to me throughout the whole tour but were quick to laugh and rejoice with an inmate or show an outpouring of kindness to a passing supervisor. I also had to deal with hard-ass supervisors who never did one day in the armed services and sometimes did not even work one day in a hard jail. But they wanted to perform for all who were watching to show just how much of a nasty drill sergeant he/she could be to their subordinates because the subordinates’ only crime was that they were new on the job and vulnerable to their probationary period.

Yup! My first two years working on Rikers Island I felt like I was on my own, and on many occasions, it felt like it was me versus everybody. Because that job is so close-knit and everybody is watching everybody, it also meant everybody is talking about everybody, and you are always evaluated. If an inmate successfully makes you show fear, everybody in blue and orange is talking about it. If a coworker or superior does not like you, everybody is talking about it. If you are one who wants to date a fellow employee on the job, you have just become the new home entertainment center for the entire workforce within your facility.

Because I started that job wanting to blend in and avoid being the subject of scrutiny, I worked my hardest at trying to do just that. But I soon realized that for a six-foot-seven light-skinned soft-tone talker, that was an endeavor that was practically impossible. Every day, being constantly tested by the inmates and heavily criticized by my coworkers while simultaneously trying to transform myself into who I was not was taking its emotional toll because (like so many other officers in law enforcement) I took this job home with me. I even tried prescription pills that would help me fall asleep because dealing with nonstop controversy while working rotating shifts on a weekly basis will deprive you of sleep even when you are off the clock.

When I first tried incorporating prescription pills into my new chaotic routine as a correction officer, my first night taking them I thought I found a wonderful remedy. I felt this pill that was as small as a raindrop quickly relax my mind and slowly turned off the overactive thoughts that prevented me from sleeping. It was as if my mind was a string of very tangled Christmas lights that were actively blinking, and I actually felt each light being gently unscrewed as the entire cord was being carefully untangled until all of them were off, and I could immediately fall asleep and remain so peacefully uninterrupted.

The only downfall was that when I woke up to face the day, I had some sort of lingering hangover that sort of slowed me down and took away from my sharpness and focus. When I went to see another doctor about the inconvenient side effects this prescription was giving me, he told me that I would be far better off without any prescriptions. I should cope with this new job because (from his experience) the dosages will only get more and more potent throughout my career. He strongly suggested for me to either find a way to function on that job without pills or immediately start looking for another job. As the time passed, I soon realized I could not transform myself into someone I was not. My attempts to escape scrutiny by blending in and trying to avoid becoming a subject of satire and ridicule were done.

As time marched on, there were still multiple occasions that I suffered with insomnia but freeing myself from the burden of shielding myself from public criticism and allowing myself to be who I really was and am did take some of the emotional load I was carrying off my shoulders.

My first unforgettable experience came when I had a small group of inmates in my house who were diligently working toward inciting a riot. I turned to my area supervisor (CPT Richard Rupnarain) for help. I soon realized he was petrified of these inmates and would do absolutely nothing to help me despite his historical tales of glory as an officer who never backed down, never retreated, and never lost a fight. It was crystal clear (like most staffers who boast about their fighting days), this was nothing but verbal delusions of grandeur. I was even told by a fellow officer that he told the inmates that he was taking their side over mine and whatever action I brought against them, he would make sure it would be tossed in the trash. Throughout my years on the job, I ran into many worthless supervisors like that and had to find alternatives in dealing with insolent and troublesome inmates on my own, whom I will be divulging in other chapters throughout this book.

Later, that same day, I was confronted by a very hostile inmate, who without warning swiftly pulled out a belt buckle and attacked me. I recalled how fast his hands were as he threw a combination of punches at my face. Eventually, when I was able to get him down and subdue him until help arrived, my face was very badly bruised, and I remembered feeling the same way Sissy Spacek’s character did in the film Carrie while inmates and staffers