I’ve been asked many times why I became a prison officer. People don’t often ask me why I quit. But the reasons are very similar. I was 22 years old when I joined the Prison Service, a young woman starting at a high security men’s prison in Cambridgeshire. I can still remember how nervous I felt, how shiny my unworn boots looked, how heavy those keys felt in my pocket.
I was at a strange point in my life. I’d dropped out of university a few years before, and had bounced from job to job looking for something that felt meaningful. I wanted to do something that had real impact. I wanted to make a difference.
