Correctional Officer Responses to Workplace Trauma: Refining the Vicarious Trauma Toolkit

The Concept of Trauma

Sar and Ozturk (2005) defined trauma as “a condition where an adequate response is not possible despite existential threat” (p. 8). People can undergo trauma in direct ways, such as being involved in near fatal vehicle collisions, experiencing physical or sexual assaults, or being exposed to warzone-like environments. Within the past 30 or so years, psychologists have recognized another form of trauma, that of vicarious traumatization. Prevalent among individuals surrounded by survivors of traumatic life events, vicarious, or secondary trauma, has been defined by Figley (1995) as the natural consequent behaviors and emotions “resulting from knowing about a traumatizing event experienced by . . . another . . . and the stress resulting from helping or wanting to help a traumatized person” (p. 7). Examples of vicarious or secondary trauma can include learning about someone else’s physical assault, or childhood victimization.

When defining trauma, according to Horowitz (1986), one must also take into consideration the inner feelings that emerge following exposure to a traumatic situation. Sar and Ozturk (2005) argued that people desire peaceful states of mind at all times throughout their lives, but that traumatic events can be disruptive to this because they are unusual experiences to which most individuals are unaccustomed. Over the life course, people develop inner working models of the world that make it more predictable, yet trauma is the very antithesis of this as it creates uncertainty and powerlessness (Sar & Ozturk, 2005). Trauma therefore arises when people are unable to successfully integrate the constellation of negative emotions resulting from a traumatic experience. Only until the traumatized person reaches the point of cognitively resolving the emotional irregularities of a traumatic event, a stage called completion tendency (Mandler, 1964), will the individual overcome the burden of the event. Accordingly, trauma seems to have less to do with a traumatic experience itself than with how one emotionally responds to it (Horowitz, 1986; Sar & Ozturk, 2005). When individuals are unable to process trauma-related emotions, they are more likely to experience health complications such as post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, and anxiety (Sabin-Farrell & Turpin, 2003). To help avert these conditions, especially those connected to secondary trauma, the Vicarious Trauma Toolkit was developed.

The Vicarious Trauma Toolkit

In 2013, the OVC awarded Northeastern University federal funds to research in greater depth the phenomenon of vicarious traumatization. According to Hallinan and colleagues (2019), this process began with a review of the literature on organizational responses to secondary trauma. A team of interdisciplinary scholars then elicited feedback from a U.S.-based sample of administrators and frontline personnel employed in organizations customarily exposed to vicarious trauma to understand whether they were aware of its consequences and, further, whether they housed the resources to handle them. Mixed methodological data gathered from victim, Emergency Medical Services (EMS), fire, and law enforcement professionals revealed how they were cognizant of the importance of addressing vicarious trauma, yet were unfamiliar with how best to do so. With this knowledge, Northeastern University and the OVC created the Vicarious Trauma Toolkit (VTT). This collaborative research effort further uncovered how responses to secondary trauma generally fall into one of the three categories: (a) negative, consisting of a range of adverse psychosocial symptoms, (b) neutral, indicative of coping mechanisms to overcome trauma, and (c) positive, reflecting inspiration drawn by victim services professionals from direct trauma survivors (Hallinan et al., 2019; Schroder et al., 2022).

Resources are offered by the VTT to organizations to help prevent the negative effects of vicarious trauma. Before doing this, the Vicarious Trauma-Organizational Readiness Guide (VT-ORG) is administered to agency supervisors to determine their preparedness in addressing vicarious trauma. Supervisors are then directed to a repository of therapeutic services to help frontline personnel overcome the hardships of secondary trauma. Examples of these services, each specific to a certain profession, are on the OVC’s homepage, and include posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) therapy for police officers, crisis counseling for fire fighters, and coping strategies for paramedics.

Few studies to date have scientifically evaluated any element of the VTT. Among those that have, Hallinan et al. (2019) examined the psychometric properties of the VT-ORG, finding that it displayed strong validity and reliability. In one other seminal research report that is germane to this study, Schroder et al. (2022) assessed the efficacy of the VTT within different occupational fields such as medicine and law enforcement, concluding that the model was not suitable to all workers exposed to secondary trauma. Specifically, these authors “identified a potential policy gap in the VTT regarding the prevention of vicarious trauma in all . . . occupational . . . sectors” (p. 18). Schroder and colleagues (2022) essentially found that the Vicarious Trauma Toolkit was not being applied correctly in all professional arenas where frontline personnel are exposed to trauma, and even in cases where it was, it was producing few, if any, appreciable improvements in first-responder health.

Schroder et al.’s (2022) finding perhaps comes with little surprise when considering that the VTT has neglected to consider all frontline personnel who, given the demands of their employment, are subject to vicarious workplace trauma. For instance, and when specifically reviewing the list of resources on the OVC’s homepage to help frontline workers overcome secondary trauma, it is written that the “VTT is relevant to the following disciplines: victim services, EMS, fire-fighting, and policing.” Although it is explained that others may benefit from these resources too, such as sexual assault response teams, chaplains, and dispatchers, one member of the workforce who is not cited as gaining any possible advantage from these resources and, moreover, who is not even listed as a frontline group exposed to secondary workplace trauma, is the officer of the correctional system.

Correctional Officer Health and Wellness

Correctional officers are subject to both direct and vicarious trauma while working (Ferdik & Smith, 2017). Regarding the former, Ricciardelli and Adorjan (2021) found that these frontline personnel are continuously and directly exposed to psychologically traumatizing events at work that can include, among others, physical assaults, self-injuries, and suicide. In addition to direct trauma, COs are also subject to vicarious trauma. Throughout the past half century or so, correctional officers working in all security classification levels have been asked to perform social work-type functions in their interactions with custodial residents. As Johnson (2002) remarked, every officer is now a “human service provider expected to engage in people work . . . Such activities can include providing goods and services to correctional clients, acting as their advocates, and helping them with institutional adjustment problems” (p. 4).

Given these revised job roles requiring closer proximity to custodial populations, COs are at-risk for vicarious work-related trauma (Ferdik & Smith, 2017). According to Liu and colleagues (2021), residents of the corrections system experience disproportionately more trauma in comparison to noncustodial populations. These authors noted how incarcerated persons are more frequently the victim of life-threatening illnesses, verbal and physical abuses, as well as sexual and/or victimization. Since COs are now asked to serve as social workers to imprisoned populations, they are indirectly exposed to their traumatic accounts, which, in turn, can lead to adverse health effects (Sabin-Farrell & Turpin, 2003).

Aside from being vicariously exposed to the trauma of carceral populations, correctional officers can experience secondary trauma through their co-workers too. In an environment with so many workplace hazards, the probability that one officer will experience direct trauma, and then another will be vicariously exposed to it, is quite high, even in comparison to other first-responding professions. For example, Konda and colleagues (2013) found that across the United States in 2011, COs experienced 544 work-related injuries per 10,000 full-time employees (FTEs), which was more than four times the rate of any other worker analyzed in their study (177 per 10,000 FTEs), including nurses and EMTs. During a 10-year career, Fusco and colleagues (2020) discovered how a CO will experience an average of 28 violent, injury, or death-related incidents, almost 2 times the rate of police officers. These experiences, in turn, can contribute to depreciated officer mental well-being, with an estimated 50% of COs exhibiting symptoms of depression and anxiety, which is double the percentage found among nurses and EMTs (Fusco et al., 2020). With such a high probability of direct trauma in the correctional environment, it stands to reason that if one officer experiences trauma, another could be vicariously exposed to it. Although employment as a CO can be quite traumatic, as evidenced by these studies, the wellness needs of these first-responders have not been adequately addressed.

To date, three main health interventions have been afforded to correctional officers to protect them from the traumatic conditions of their employment. These have included critical incident debriefings, Employee Assistance Programs (EAPs), and cognitive-behavioral therapies such as AMStrength (Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021). Overwhelmingly, studies evaluating these treatments have either found that COs reject them, or that they are ineffective at improving their well-being (Evers et al., 2020; Ferdik & Smith, 2017). Ricciardelli and Adorjan (2021) identified one main reason for this, with that being how none of these programs “were designed with COs in mind” (p. 41). These treatments, as a consequence, cannot properly respond to the traumas specific to the correctional environment because they were designed for other first-responders. This is problematic when considering the atypical work environment of COs that in many ways is unlike that of other frontline personnel.

According to Ricciardelli and Adorjan (2021), although all first-responders will sometimes encounter occupational risk, since COs work in confined spaces, they are always surrounded by potentially traumatizing incidents such as violence and suicide. Since they are unarmed and work in enclosed settings where the possibility to escape these risks is low, the chances of them experiencing trauma increases (Evers et al., 2020). Adding to this, and unlike other first-responders, COs interact with a population of potentially disgruntled individuals who may be frustrated with their incarceration, and who may express their grievances toward officers (Evers et al., 2020). When considering these occupational differences between corrections officers and other frontline workers, scholars have started questioning whether VTT resources developed for other first-responders are sufficient for, or even applicable to, COs (Ferdik & Smith, 2017; Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021). With this consideration in mind, the current study aimed to understand from officers the direct and vicarious trauma they experience at work, as well as how they respond to this trauma.

Current Focus

Correctional officers are the backbone of the corrections system. They are asked to search cells for contraband, arbitrate disputes between custodial residents, and provide them rehabilitative services (Ferdik & Smith, 2017). Failure to execute these tasks can lead to disorder within a correctional facility (Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021). Although resources have been provided to COs to improve their well-being, they were designed for other first-responders, making them, as a result, incompatible with CO health needs. Recently, there has been a surge in research on officer health (see Ferdik & Smith, 2017), yet what continues to remain unclear are the traumas, both direct and vicarious, these essential personnel experience at work. Also under-studied are the responses officers deploy to overcome work-related trauma. Researching these topics is crucial to the development of health interventions that can actually be of assistance to these first-responders. Against this backdrop, the main questions of interest to this study are as follows:

Method

Survey Construction and Data Analytic Strategies

Two main questions were issued to our sample of COs: (a) What are the sources of direct and vicarious trauma you experience at work?; and (b) What do you do to cope/how do you respond to direct and vicarious trauma at work? Borrowed from Sollie et al.’s (2017) study of crime scene investigator resilience, these questions were customized to our sample of maximum-security correctional officers. Every trauma source that was listed by our respondents is reported separately in the findings, while instead answers to question two were categorized in accordance with the VTT’s taxonomy of trauma responses, consisting of negative, neutral, and positive ones (Hallinan et al., 2019). Positive responses can reflect changes to one’s worldview where, for example, an individual becomes more appreciative of life.

Neutral responses, instead, are indicative of personalized coping strategies to manage trauma, which will not lead to any physiological, mental, or behavioral changes in a person. In this study, we deliberately classified two neutral responses, apathy and professional detachment, as neutral, despite the VTT’s tradition of categorizing them as negative since they involve disassociation from trauma and, by consequence, possible negative health effects. With the VTT yet to be applied to corrections (Schroder et al., 2022), and when considering how different the correctional work environment is in comparison to other first-responders (Harney & Lerman, 2021), this study makes the claim that apathy and detachment among COs can serve as neutral buffering mechanisms that can insulate them from workplace trauma. There is empirical evidence to support this decision. Among a sample of Swedish workers, Sonnentag and colleagues (2010) discovered how psychological detachment from, and apathy toward, job strain were each important factors that helped “protect employee wellbeing” (p. 965). Against this finding, and when later seeing how COs used apathy and detachment to protect themselves from workplace trauma, these responses were classified as neutral. Negative responses, finally, involve the development of adverse health conditions due to self-destructive means to overcome trauma. Apart from these open-ended questions, demographic ones were also asked to measure respondent race, ethnicity, age, employment tenure, sex, marital status, and education level. Sample demographics were computed using SPSS version 28.0.

Analyses of open-ended data proceeded in sequential phases using Atlas.ti. This process first involved inductive reasoning to carefully inspect the passages drafted by respondents to identify interrelationships between them. To enhance inter-rater reliability, all officer answers were independently evaluated by two members of the research team to see if similar conclusions were drawn about the meaning of the data. This was done both to overcome positionality issues, as well as ensure different individuals were reaching similar conclusions. As the research team read through the transcriptions, memos were drafted to synthesize this information. What these memos did was help consolidate the wealth of information provided by officers.

Focused coding procedures followed in which key concepts, or themes, were identified (Charmaz, 2006). Used as a pattern construction technique, focused coding involves researchers in tandem “examining all the data in a category . . . and then comparing pieces of data with other pieces in order to build a clearer, working definition of a concept, which is then named” (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2011, p. 311). As the research team read through the transcripts, cross-referenced the meaning of the data, and consolidated this information, themes emerged, which are reported in Tables 2 and 3 below. When reporting results and to anonymize respondents, after a quotation of theirs is cited, we use the following label to identify them (O. #1, and so on). On a final note, though it is preferable to replace “inmate” with person-centered language like “prison resident,” the former term is cited five times in the results only to remain authentic to the original statements of respondents in accordance with standard qualitative research practices (see Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2011). A demographic portrait of our sample is provided in Table 1. ³

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Table 1:

Sample Characteristics

Variables	Labels or min-max	n (%)	M (SD)
Race	Asian	1 (00.1%)	—
	Black or African American	122 (63.2%)	—
	Mixed Race	3 (00.2%)	—
	White	67 (34.7%)	—
Hispanic Ethnicity	No	183 (94.8%)	—
	Yes	10 (5.2%)	—
Age	18-25	21 (10.9%)	—
	26-33	55 (28.5%)	—
	34-41	39 (20.2%)	—
	42-49	31 (16.1%)	—
	50 or older	47 (24.4%)	—
Tenure	0-456 a	—	93.03 (7.1)
Sex	Male	95 (49.2%)	—
	Female	98 (50.8%)	—
Marital Status	Married	79 (41.1%)	—
	Nonmarried	113 (58.8%)	—
Education	High School/GED	31 (16.1%)	—
	Some College	82 (42.5%)	—
	Associate’s Degree	28 (14.5%)	—
	Bachelor’s Degree	37 (19.2%)	—
	Graduate Degree	15 (7.8%)	—
Supervisory Status	Supervisory	91 (47.6%)	—
	Nonsupervisory	100 (52.4%)	—

Note. Min = minimum value; Max = maximum value; M = average; N = total in category; SD = standard deviation.

a

Tenure was measured as total months on the job.

Results

Direct and Vicarious Workplace Trauma

Respondents first listed direct and vicarious trauma they encounter at work. Trauma categories are listed in Table 2. In total, officers recorded 14 sources of trauma, eight of which direct, and six vicarious. Regarding the former, these included threats to the physical wellness of officers and their families. Interestingly, threats did not originate exclusively from members of the imprisoned population, but rather, from colleagues too. As one respondent wrote in regards to the latter:

There is much trauma in this job, but I can tell you now that one of the most frightening was when my supervisor shouted ‘You watch what happens to you’ after I failed to finish a task on time. I have worked several jobs, but have never had a supervisor verbally threaten me before (O. #122).

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Table 2:

Sources of Direct and Vicarious Workplace Trauma for Correctional Officers

Direct			Vicarious
Trauma source	n	%	Trauma source	n	%
Physical threats to officers and their families from incarcerated persons	5/193	2.6%	Learning about incarcerated person suicide	55/193	28.5%
Physical threats to officers and their families from co-workers	5/193	2.6%	Learning about co-workers and their workplace injuries	55/193	28.5%
Physical threats to officers and their families from supervisors	5/193	2.6%	Learning about co-worker suicide	185/193	96.3%
Dashing (incarcerated persons projecting bodily fluids onto officers)	74/193	38.3%	Learning about intra-gang violence and brutality	47/193	24.4%
Finding lethal contraband (i.e., knives, shanks)	72/193	37.3%	Learning about self-injurious behaviors by incarcerated persons	47/193	24.4%
Small-scale riots	1/193	00.5%	Hearing about the sexual and violent victimization experiences of incarcerated persons	179/193	92.7%
Physical assaults	88/193	45.5%
Personally observing deceased bodies on-the-job	92/193	47.6%

Four other officers recounted similar stories, with one of whom, an African American, explaining how “upper management threatened me, and racially abused me . . . I felt afraid, alone, scared of being assaulted . . . and constantly feel like I won’t go home the same way I came in” (O. #62). For this one respondent, there appeared to be racial tension with prison administrators, which in and of itself, constituted a traumatic experience.

A number of COs (74/193; 38.3%) explained how they were the victim of another form of trauma, that of being dashed, or having contagious bodily fluids projected onto them. One respondent wrote how he was “dashed nine times within 18 months of working the lock-up unit . . . I just cannot tell you how damn terrifying that is. I don’t know what these people have, and you are throwing that. . .on me”! (O. #3). Part of the job description of a CO is to routinely inspect the cells of carceral residents, and on occasion, 72/193 (37.3%), officers discovered potentially lethal contraband consisting of knives and shanks. Such discoveries left the COs feeling uneasy and in fear for their safety. Other than one minor riot that was only mentioned by a single respondent, another direct source of trauma included being physically assaulted by incarcerated persons.

Almost half of our sample, 88/193 (45.5%), reported being the victim of a physical assault from a prison inhabitant. Almost all of them required medical attention, and were forced to take leaves of absence in order to fully recover. One survey-taker in particular explained how “I was assaulted at work God knows how many times, and my co-workers did not respond. I was very upset, and felt that I failed myself. The staff working under me failed. There was no remorse” (O. #72). What evidently compounded this already grave situation was the perceived lack of assistance received by this officer’s colleagues. Finally, almost one-half of COs questioned in this study, 92/193 (47.6%), disclosed how they personally witnessed deceased bodies at work. One officer had a number of such experiences when explaining how he had “witnessed eight murders, six suicides . . . and the deaths of both the innocent and guilty” (O. #72).

In addition to direct, COs experienced vicarious workplace trauma too. One especially disconcerting form of secondary trauma involved learning about either imprisoned population members or, more distressingly, co-workers, completing suicides at work. Although none of our respondents physically witnessed these acts, they heard accounts of them and the impacts they had on others. As one officer recalled, “I have co-workers who have worked emergency response, and cannot tell you how many stories they told. One time, they entered the cell of an inmate and saw him just hanging there. Imagine that!” This officer continued by adding that “My comrades have witnessed assaults on other staff, as well as some being taken hostage . . . This is all hard to hear, but the more you hear it, the more you prepare yourself for it” (O. #111). The latter part of this officer’s statement points to hearing about co-workers being physically abused and injured while at work, another source of secondary trauma. According to this one respondent, while these accounts were difficult to digest, they helped to prepare for the unpredictability of the job. About one-third of respondents shared similar vicarious experiences (55/193; 28.5%). Although occurring only once many years ago, nearly every single officer (185/192; 96.3%) disclosed the trauma they underwent after learning about another officer using a firearm to complete a suicide while at work. As one officer explained:

I was not here when this happened, but it was a story I will never forget. It gets told to new cadets as a way to, I don’t know, I guess prepare them for what they might see on this job. To me, this can just be terrifying (O. #17).

For several respondents, they either observed directly or learned about the brutal assaults experienced by some prison inhabitants. Some of this resulted from either intra-gang violence, or self-injurious behaviors. One particularly novice officer recalled how one time:

A senior level-officer told me war stories that left me shocked. He told me to expect anything here. He had seen inmates self-mutilate themselves, and described in bloody detail what he saw. One time a rival gang member in the yard practically dismembered another. Hearing these stories in so much gory detail certainly was a bit much! (O. #32).

About 25% of respondents, (47/193), documented similar experiences.

Finally, practically our entire sample (179/193; 92.7%), explained how emotionally challenging it was to continuously hear stories from prison inhabitants about the traumas they endured, traumas that, according to officers, placed them in prison. Officers heard stories of prison population members being brutally assaulted by spouses, loved ones, parents, and/or care-givers. Many were sexually victimized as children, and resorted to drugs and alcohol to cope with the psychologically crippling effects of these experiences. COs heard these stories every single day, which had negative impacts on their mental health. The following quotation succinctly summarizes such experiences:

You know for many of these people, we are really their only channel to the outside world, and their only source of social support. Too many times these people get judged. What if you and I were in their same situation? What separates us from them? You have to have compassion and understanding for these people. Prison is not going to do away what they already experienced. You hear stories of them being sexually beaten when children, or God knows how many other horrible things. You have to be there for them, but I can tell you it is not easy (O. #100).

Correctional Officer Responses to Workplace Trauma

The Vicarious Trauma Toolkit (VVT) posits that responses to secondary trauma can be either negative, neutral, or positive. As such, Question 2 of our survey asked correctional officers to list the ways they respond to both vicarious and direct workplace trauma. Responses conformed to the VTT model, and are reported in Table 3 as negative, neutral, and positive.

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Table 3:

Correctional Officer Responses to Workplace Trauma

Negative			Neutral			Positive
Responses	n	%	Responses	n	%	Responses	n	%
Drug/Alcohol Use	47/193	24.3%	Apathy	44/193	22.7%	Social Support	101/193	52.3%
Presenteeism	17/193	08.8%	Professional Detachment	43/193	22.3%	Religion	93/192	48.2%
Isolation	33/193	17.9%				Gratefulness	75/193	38.8%
						Resilience	89/193	46.1%

Negative

Although representing just a fraction of the total sample (47/193; 24.3%), approximately one-quarter of officers surveyed in this study resorted to drug or alcohol use to cope with on-the-job trauma. Drug use ranged from the legal in terms of prescription medication, to the illicit in the form of marijuana. Officers also disclosed how they sometimes consumed alcohol in excess. To deal with the multitude of work-related traumatic experiences, one correctional officer advised others to “start drinking, and start drinking immediately. You’re going to need it! And maybe some recreational drug usage might be good too. This state needs to pass pro-marijuana legislation” (O. #33). Another officer quit smoking before becoming a CO, then “picked up again the habit, and continued to drink” (O. #114). In regards to prescription medications, one officer explained how “I am very accustomed to dealing with trauma. I have had problems with depression and anxiety, and I indulge in medications to cope” (O. #2).

The accumulation of repeated traumatic experiences at work can lead to illness, injury, or other adverse health conditions (see Ferdik & Smith, 2017). A total of 17/193, (08.8%), survey-takers explained how their productivity at work diminished considerably due to their past experiences with work-related trauma. These officers were physically assaulted, taken hostage, and/or witnessed similar experiences from their co-workers. They have been “beaten, bruised, lacerated, and the scars are showing. I am here at work, but I do not feel like myself anymore” (O. #21). They are revealing signs of a condition known as presenteeism, or lost productivity because of no longer being fully functional due to illness (Gist et al., 2023). Although they are responding to trauma, they are doing so in a sick and disengaged manner.

In terms of a final negative response to trauma, 33/193 officers (17.9%) reported how they became reclusive. Many described themselves as distant from mainstream society. Several of these officers were divorced, separated from their children, and living alone. They isolated themselves from family as a means of protecting them from the trauma of the job. As one officer recalled:

I have been divorced twice, and separated from my teenage children for six years. I talk to them on the phone, but I keep them away from this. It’s not healthy. When you see suicide, death, and morbidity, it is best not to pass this to other people, especially those you care about (O. #192).

Another officer explained how “I live alone, I eat alone, I sleep alone, I am alone. It’s the only way to work this job” (O. #176).

Neutral

One out of five correctional officers who participated in this study, (44/193; 22.7%), conveyed a sense of apathy in how they were responding to trauma. They no longer seemed to care about what transpires at work. One officer’s statement seemed to typify this sentiment when writing that it is necessary to “suppress all of your feelings. Just don’t feel. That is the only way to get through things around here” (O. #45). Another added how “I have seen it all. From assaults to hostage taking to inmates taking knives to their bodies just to get some attention. Sometimes you just go numb from these experiences. You just don’t care anymore. Another day at work” (O. #21). Yet another officer explained that:

Sadly, it seems most have become numb to the critical incidents around here. Staff know they are understaffed, improperly trained, at risk for their life, and have no support. . .They now come to work to get a paycheck hoping that nothing bad will happen (O. #190).

It would appear from these responses that, at least with reference to these officers in particular, nothing at work affected them anymore since they have become indifferent to the job. Adoption of an apathetic mindset helped these officers cope by shielding them from the consequences of trauma.

Professional detachment represented another coping device deployed by some correctional officers in response to workplace trauma. It was important for these officers to leave what happens in the prison at the prison. To preserve their mental well-being, it was imperative that officers maintain healthy boundaries between their professional and personal lives. Only by “letting things slide off your back,” according to one officer, “can you stay sane around here. Do NOT let the job define who you are. Take the time to separate” (O. #11). Another officer emphasized how important it is to “not let things at home come to work. And when you are at home, you need to shut it down. Keep the two separate” (O. #34). Finally, one officer submitted the following written response that seems to capture the essence of detaching from the job: “Being able to not dwell on things that happen is important. Move on and don’t live in the past. I learned that it’s important to forget the last day I worked and detach from this place. Just don’t take anything personally” (O. #2). In total, 43/193 (22.3%) of the officers submitted similar statements, with these two neutral responses reflecting coping mechanisms these COs used to insulate themselves from trauma.

Positive

Correctional officers identified four positive strategies they utilize in response to vicarious and direct workplace trauma. One of the most important, listed by a majority of sample members (101/193; 52.3%), was seeking support from others. After undergoing a traumatic experience, these correctional officers sought refuge from co-workers, family, and friends. Networks of social support were instrumental in helping to maintain a positive outlook on life. They told stories of what they endured and tried to work through any unresolved emotions by communicating with close acquaintances. As one officer wrote, “Ya gotta rely on those who are close to you. I have a circle of family who help me decompress” (O. #188).

Almost half of our sample (93/193; 48.2%) revealed how participation in religious activities, regardless of denomination, aided tremendously in helping to process the inner emotions resulting from on-the-job trauma. Either by attending sermons, praying, or communicating with a higher-order deity, these correctional officers invested time in religious practices to overcome the traumatic conditions of their employment. Attendance at sermons, further, helped officers reframe the trauma in a more positive light so it did not burden them with negative thoughts. As one officer put it:

Prayer is the only thing that gets me through. I know God is there looking out for me. If it were not for my Pastor helping me to see the big picture of why I am constantly exposed to the worst of humanity, I truly do not think I could make it through this job (O. #4).

The third positive response to workplace trauma listed by 75/193 (38.8%) COs involved the expression of gratefulness. Practically every single day, as noted above, correctional officers heard stories of the traumas endured by prison inhabitants. Repeatedly hearing these accounts took a toll on the psychological well-being of many COs. In response, just under 40% became more appreciative of the life they had. They were grateful for having never been subjected to such abuses. Further, they were appreciative of the fact that they were not incarcerated and were able to go home at night. “Sometimes we tend to take things for granted,” wrote one officer, “and it is important to just take time to appreciate what you have. These people have nothing . . . and hearing their stories puts life in perspective” (O. #68).

A total of 89/193 (46.1%) officers surveyed in this study explained how they respond to trauma with resilience, representing the final positive response. Gist et al. (2023) described resilience as an individual characteristic reflective of the ability to manage and adapt to trauma. Resilience additionally meant having a “strong mental fortitude,” “psychological toughness,” and the ability to “deal with a situation . . . without letting it rule him or her” (O. #47). As further explained by one respondent, “a correctional officer that is resilient knows who they are as a person and has total confidence in what they do. What makes a correctional officer “bounce back” and be resilient is their willingness to never commit to failure” (O. #55). Another CO indicated how prison inhabitants are what make COs resilient, writing that “The inmates that each of us are responsible for make us resilient because to some inmates, we as correctional officers are all they have, and if we don’t keep ‘bouncing back’ or coming back, then they won’t have anyone at all” (O. #47). One other officer wrote the following in regards to the power prison residents can have in equipping officers with resilience:

Relationships formed with . . . offenders are important. These men are human beings that made a mistake landing them where they are today. They are already paying their debt to society as they have already been judged and sentenced but are still suffering and punished more while incarcerated. These men are supposed to be afforded basic rights and the ability to rehabilitate. However, these opportunities, if afforded, are far and few between. How is this fair? So, I do what I can with the contact with offenders I have, which is always rewarding (O. #193).

Discussion

Created predominantly for EMS, victim services, fire-fighting, and policing officials, the Vicarious Trauma Toolkit (VTT) offers these first-responders resources to overcome secondary workplace trauma. Explained on the OVC’s homepage is that these resources are applicable to all frontline practitioners working with traumatized populations. Research though seems to contradict this claim, particularly in reference to one frontline group: correctional officers (Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021). In response to the growing health epidemic witnessed among COs, they have been offered VTT resources that are, however, specific only to other disciplines such as policing. Studies evaluating these resources, in fact, have found that they are ineffective at improving officer wellness (Evers et al., 2020; Ferdik & Smith, 2017; Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021). To strategize alternatives that are more effective at improving CO well-being, it becomes vital to study the trauma sources officers experience at work, and how they respond to trauma. Different people may respond differently to trauma, and the intention of this study is to leverage certain responses in an effort to amend the current list of resources offered by the VTT to help all first-responders overcome workplace trauma.

Various examples of direct and vicarious work-related trauma were cited by our sample of maximum-security correctional officers. Among the direct, these consisted of threats issued to officers and their loved ones by members of the incarcerated population, as well as by co-workers, and prison administrators. Although not novel with others discovering a similar finding (see Ferdik & Smith, 2017; Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021), this result nevertheless supports the point that correctional employment can be traumatic to COs. Contraband, riots, dashing, physical assaults, and the witnessing of deceased bodies were additional sources of direct trauma noted by COs, findings that are also in concert with past research on CO health (Evers et al., 2020; Ferdik & Smith, 2017; Johnson, 2002; Ricciardelli & Adorjan, 2021).

As noted above, the responsibilities of the modern-day correctional officer have changed from custody-based functions alone to now involving more social work-type duties (Johnson, 2002). As a result, officers are also exposed to a host of secondary trauma sources. These consisted of learning about both co-worker and incarcerated person suicide and injury, along with repeatedly hearing victimization stories from prison inhabitants. Johnston and colleagues’ (2022) analysis is the only other study to date, to the best of the authors’ knowledge, to have also inquired into vicarious trauma sources encountered by COs. They too discovered how officers can be negatively impacted by the victimization stories of prison inhabitants, thus again solidifying the point that correctional employment can be hazardous to CO health and wellness. In addition to recording trauma sources, our sample of COs was also asked to document how they respond to direct and vicarious workplace trauma, with their responses, in accordance with the VTT model, categorized as negative, neutral, and positive.

A number of officers resorted to drug and alcohol use to cope with workplace trauma. Though concerning, this finding does not suggest that substance use is epidemic among officers since other studies found very low rates of these behaviors among COs (though self-reporting biases must be considered) (Ferdik & Smith, 2017). This point notwithstanding, it may be worth paying attention to these specific officers to ensure their behaviors do not escalate to the point of becoming destructive. In our study, there was some overlap with the other negative responses with some officers, aside from using mind-altering substances, also experiencing presenteeism, and/or isolating themselves from society by living solitary lifestyles. Earlier it was explained that trauma arises not so much from a traumatic situation itself, but rather, from how one emotionally responds to it (Sar & Ozturk, 2005). People who reach the completion tendency stage (Mandler, 1964), or the resolution of negative feelings associated with traumatic experiences, are better able to insulate themselves from the harmful effects of trauma exposure. For those who struggle to reach this stage, instead, they are at greater risk for health complications. It can be argued that COs using drugs, isolating themselves, or reporting to work in debilitated states, are especially in need of assistance to overcome the traumas of their job since their responses could be exacerbating the initial traumatic situation.

Neutral responses consisted of two coping strategies used to shield officers from the harmful effects of trauma. One of which involved the development of an apathetic mindset toward the job. While this group was functionally adapting to workplace trauma, it would appear that they were neither thriving nor flourishing professionally. As even noted by several of these respondents themselves, they were present simply to collect a paycheck. As a second protective coping mechanism, some officers just detached from the job altogether. These officers left what happens in the prison at the prison by focusing on other priorities, such as their families. Personal relationships with loved ones, for example, served as a protective force to separate from the job. Similar to Sonnentag et al. (2010), when employees can psychologically distance themselves from the traumas or hardships of the job, this can serve as a protective force deflecting the onset of possible mental illness. Although this neutral group is deploying strategies to safeguard their physical and mental welfare, still, it does not appear they are fully engaging with the job, which in and of itself, could create professional problems for them such as possible termination (Ferdik & Smith, 2017). As such, and with both apathy and detachment containing both positive and negative aspects, they equated to neutral responses in this study.

Positive responses to trauma consisted of seeking social support, participating in religious activities, marshaling resilience, and expressing gratefulness. Gist and colleagues (2023), in their study of CO resilience, discovered how systems of social support were chief in equipping officers with the resilient attributes necessary to overcome professional hardships. Similar to Gist et al. (2023), officers in our sample relied heavily upon social support systems to effectively respond to trauma. In addition to social support, religion also served as a helpful resource. International research from both Sollie et al. (2017) and Klinoff et al. (2018), conducted in the Netherlands and United States, respectively, found that religion served as a protective force to indemnify crime scene investigators and correctional officers from trauma. This is because respondents felt re-energized following a spiritual sermon. Religion uplifted their spirits and allowed them to persevere in the face of adversity.

Resilience among our officers represented yet another way they responded to trauma. For these COs, it was important for them to possess the “psychological toughness” (Klinoff et al., 2018) to confront on-the-job trauma. Respondents in our study cited how one major factor contributing to the development of resilience was the work they were doing with incarcerated persons. Officers were acutely aware that many members of the imprisoned population have no one else in their lives, and depend on officers for support. If the officers cannot provide this, the incarcerated persons may suffer. As a result, officers need to persevere for the clients they serve. There seemed to be a symbiotic relationship between the two, a finding that was also uncovered by Gist and colleagues (2023) in which they as well discovered how rehabilitative roles occupied by COs can reinforce resilience. Finally, and in regards to gratefulness, on the OVC’s homepage, it is explained that one positive response to trauma can be classified as compassion satisfaction, or the gratification one derives from helping survivors of direct trauma. Several officers in our study submitted responses reflective of compassion satisfaction since they duly acknowledged the supportive and nurturing role they can occupy in their interactions with custodial residents. If they are able to help them, COs can then see the fruits of their labor, which, in turn, can validate the work they are doing, and the contributions they are making to society (Hallinan et al., 2019). According to their written statements, officers who responded to trauma in positive ways appeared to be in healthy states of mind, and fully engaged with the job. Considering this, their responses invite one important policy recommendation.

Conclusion

A change is needed in how COs are portrayed across society. Even when compared to other first-responder professions, correctional officers are ranked at the bottom in terms of occupational prestige. Tracy and Scott (2006) discovered how police officers, border patrol agents, and other members of the policing community perceive COs as the “scum of law enforcement” given the “filthy” nature of their job. Despite the sacrifices officers make to keep communities safe, it would appear from such labels that they are not held in high regard. To compound matters further, COs seem to be overlooked as a frontline group, which has led to their health and wellness needs either going unaddressed, or being responded to incorrectly. Whether corrections systems are functional is entirely dependent on officer health. To safeguard their well-being, there is a pressing need to support these valuable workers when they experience trauma and to improve institutional culture and climates. Scholars should continue to research the traumas intrinsic to corrections in order to develop effective health measures that can safeguard the welfare of these crucial frontline personnel.