Abstract
Scholars have examined women’s identity development in prisons. Less is known if and how identity development affects women in different stages of the correctional system. This study applies narrative identity theory, cognitive transformation theory, and literature on pains of imprisonment to 118 women’s life-story narratives to explore identity change in prisons, jails, and substance abuse treatment. Qualitative analysis revealed noteworthy situational differences in the prevalence and nature of identity transformations. Women typically associated substance abuse treatment experiences with positive development, whereas prisons and jails were generally associated with harm to identity. Implications for correctional policy and practice are discussed.
Keywords
An established body of literature has examined women’s conditions of confinement and the deprivations they face in the context of harsh penal policies (Kruttschnitt & Gartner, 2005; McCorkel, 2013). Research has shown that women in prison consistently have difficulty adjusting to the absence of home, family, and friends (Kruttschnitt & Gartner, 2005; Ward & Kassebaum, 1964); however, one of the common pains of prison adjustment is the separation of imprisoned mothers from their children (Morash, Adams, Goodson, & Cobbina, in press; Owen, 2005). The deprivations that women experience in prison can be particularly detrimental to their identity.
Important gaps remain in our understanding of identity change among justice-involved women. Most studies examining the role of identity change among justice-involved people has focused primarily on men, revealing the salience of identity scripts in contributing to desistance or recidivism (Maruna, 2001). Yet, such research tells us little about the identity development among justice-involved women (but see Baldwin, 2017). As an exception, Morash and colleagues’ (in press) study of 44 women’s prison narratives revealed gendered pains of imprisonment and themes consistent with narrative identity theory (McAdams, 2013) and the cognitive transformation theory (Giordano, Cernkovich, & Rudolph, 2002). Despite widespread knowledge of the negative effects of prison, it is unclear whether and how justice-involved women experience changes in their identity while they are in jail and/or substance abuse treatment (SAT). In fact, Morash and colleagues (in press) called for additional research to compare identity change across carceral settings and community-based interventions. Although it is possible that serving time in jail has similar harmful effects on identity compared to serving time in prison due to the punitive nature of the two settings, it is also possible that the outcomes produced by the two settings differ. More people pass through jails than prisons, and jail populations are more active in flux and have fewer programs (Subramanian, Henrichson, & Kang-Brown, 2015). It is also possible that identity development differs in community-based treatment settings, given such settings primarily function under a rehabilitative framework and present less environmental hardships. Understanding the nature of identity change in relation to the correctional spaces women occupy may identify characteristics of incarceration/treatment experiences that either help or hinder women’s reentry efforts.
In response to Morash and colleagues’ (in press) call, we draw from literature on narrative identity theory, cognitive transformation theory, and the pains of imprisonment to consider whether and how women’s identity development affects them in different stages of the correctional system, including prisons, jails, and SAT. Specifically, we draw from life history narratives from 118 women in Michigan that were incarcerated, or on probation or parole to compare how they construct and make sense of their carceral and treatment experiences, and how that may or may not be relevant to identity change.
Narrative Identity Theory
Narrative identity theory—a social psychological theory of personality development—posits that individuals narrate their life stories to reflect how they view themselves (McAdams, 2013). Narrative identity reconstructs the autobiographical past and imagines the future in such a way as to provide an individuals’ life with purpose and meaning (McAdams & McLean, 2013). In other words, “people express to themselves and to others who they are now, how they came to be, and where they think their lives may be going in the future” (McAdams & McLean, 2013, p. 234). Identity influences decisions and behavior as individuals live and act consistently with their constructed narrative identity (Pals, 2006). According to McAdams, Reynolds, Lewis, Patten, and Bowman (2001), people often employ two narrative strategies to make sense of their personal life experiences: redemption and contamination. In a redemptive sequence, the individual depicts a transformation from a bad negative life scene that was essential to achieving a subsequent good, positive life scene. In contrast, a contamination sequence involves moving from a good, positive life scene to a bad negative life scene. In this case, the good is spoiled, ruined, and contaminated.
Although McAdams’ (2013) narrative identity theory was not developed for women entangled in the criminal justice system, some scholars have applied the theory to justice-involved individuals (Appleton, 2010; Maruna, 2001), female samples (Blackburn, 2010; Matos, Conde, Goncalves, & Santos, 2015; Miller, Carbone-Lopez, & Gunderman, 2015; Singer, Singer, & Berry, 2013), and justice-involved women (Hoskins, 2018; Morash et al., in press; Stone, Morash, Goodson, Smith, & Cobbina, 2018). Maruna (2001) pioneered the gap between narrative identity research and individuals involved in the court. Using narrative identity theory and data from a primarily male sample, Maruna revealed that compared to recidivists, reformed individuals were more likely to find satisfaction in generative behaviors, feel a sense of control over the future, and discover purpose and meaning in their lives. Despite having a criminal past, men who had reformed were able to desist from crime and achieve a prosocial identity by means of redemption and gains in personal agency, communion, and religiosity/spirituality. In particular, individuals’ redemptive narratives justified crime as a necessary experience to achieve a positive shift in identity, which aided individuals in desistance from crime and a desire to give back to the community (e.g., generativity). However, evidence suggests that prisons offered few ways for incarcerated individuals to achieve redemption, with religious/spiritual avenues being among the most common (Maruna, Wilson, & Curran, 2006), while other means of redemption (e.g., agency, communion) may be less accessible. Furthermore, in her examination of identity and reentry outcomes among 26 men and two women recently released after serving a life sentence in prison, Appleton (2010) found that redemptive narratives involved the construction of a new, better, and stronger version of the self. Specifically, she found that desisters had a bad start to life, then transitioned to a turning point, and then discarded old crime-involved identities.
Other research on women’s trauma has applied narrative identity theory. In a detailed case study of two women, Blackburn (2010) observed links between war-induced trauma, gender, and culture. The narrative processes displayed how women construct their preferred identity and underscored how cultural gendered discourses shape identity reconstruction. Although not generalizable, the case studies highlight the importance of gender and cultural competency in trauma-informed narrative therapies. In another study relevant to women in prison, van Ginneken (2016) interviewed six newly imprisoned women who were traumatized by incarceration, finding that women made good out of their incarceration by gaining agency. Women found positive aspects of imprisonment, such as the opportunity to end substance dependency or terminate destructive relationships. In Matos et al. (2015) study, McAdams’ life-story interview captured how victimization experiences affect self-perceptions of 12 women. Overall, women narrated the redemptive themes of resilience and posttraumatic growth (e.g., positive changes as an outcome of overcoming trauma).
As noted, unlike redemptive scripts, contamination scripts involve a negative event that spoils or undermines a positive state. Contamination is linked to diminished well-being, such as lower levels of life satisfaction and higher levels of depression (Bauer, McAdams, & Pals, 2008). Maruna (2001) found that recidivists described contamination sequences in which contact with the criminal justice system or other negative life circumstances made it impossible for them to change their life for the better.
A few scholars have applied narrative identity theory to female substance abusing populations. Miller et al. (2015) found connections between substance use patterns, redemption, and gender among female methamphetamine users. They observed rationalizations of desistance involving motherhood and gendered social reputation in women’s redemptive accounts. Aspirations of being a good mother, maintaining an exemplary household, and establishing a healthy romantic relationship motivated desisting women. In their examination of substance-involved women’s perceptions of the pains of prison and their identity development while incarcerated, Morash and colleagues (in press) found that women were distressed over their inability to fill perceived obligations to relatives and separation from children; however, increased spirituality was the most common form of making good of negative prison experiences. An important note, however, is that the studies mentioned above are limited primarily to women in prison or justice-involved men. To date, very little research of this type has explored identity change among justice-involved women in different correctional settings.
Cognitive Transformation Theory
A second theory of identity change, the theory of cognitive transformation, has shown that “cognitive shifts” are crucial components of the desistance process. Drawing on research on women and men who had been delinquent in their youth, Giordano and colleagues (2002, pp. 1000-1001) identified four stages to the transformation or desistance process that includes (a) openness to change, (b) exposure to “hooks for change” or turning points, (c) fashioning an “appealing and conventional ‘replacement self’,” and (d) a lifestyle transformation in the way the actor views the deviant behavior. They argued that lasting change consists of replacing one’s former crime-involved identity with a new prosocial identity, which is consistent with McAdams’ (2013) narrative identity theory. During the initial stage of desistance, an individual must identify and begin to engage the various prosocial “hooks for change” available in his or her environment (Giordano et al., 2002). Those receptive to change eventually redefine the salience of these hooks for their own transformation process and begin to view their prosocial orientation as incompatible with continued criminal behavior, thus serving as a potential catalyst to the redemption process. In their examination of 37 desisting women, Berg and Cobbina (2017) identified linkages between cognitive transformation and ecological contexts and found that impoverished environments with few resources and unsafe spaces require greater cognitive commitment. Women fared better when they found support from prosocial peers and local institutions and engaged in cognitive “upfront work” (Giordano et al., 2002) to negotiate risky environments with scarce structural opportunities. This study presents questions about how cognitive transformation might also be shaped by correctional and treatment environments.
What is central to both of these theories of identity and desistance is the individual’s ability to envision a distinct future self and the availability of opportunities for reintegration into a prosocial community. Maruna’s (2001) narrators extracted previous personal experiences as evidence that the narrator is a candidate for redemption and a positive future. Other approaches require that the desisting person identifies opportunities for change and believes that she can successfully perform a new social identity (Giordano et al., 2002).
The Pains of Imprisonment
Pains of imprisonment have been linked to negative changes in individual identity. Upon imprisonment, individuals experience various forms of deprivation. Sykes’ (1958) study found that incarcerated men faced particular hardships, such as separation from loved ones, deprivation of needed resources, and loss of freedom. Living in confinement with antisocial others and supervision by antagonistic staff presents substantial barriers to developing a prosocial future life script and ultimately desisting from crime (Irwin & Owen, 2005). Although the “pains of imprisonment” affect all those who enter correctional facilities, female prisoners face qualitatively different deprivations than men in prison. Women in prison face difficulty adjusting to the absence of family and friends, especially their children (Kruttschnitt & Gartner, 2005; Morash et al., in press; Ward & Kassebaum, 1964). Many imprisoned mothers fear that the little contact they have with their children will be severed and severely damage their relationship (Fogel, 1993). Separation from children coupled with the fact that a large proportion of women experience depression and mental health disorders make it even more difficult for women to adjust to prison and do their time (Owen, 1998).
Indeed, evidence shows how the prison experience negatively impacts individual identity, leading to a loss of purpose in life and negative self-perceptions (Liebling & Maruna, 2005). Researchers have also uncovered evidence that the coercive nature of the prison context undermines potential positive effects that prison-based programming might have on incarcerated individuals’ identities (Liebling & Maruna, 2005; McCorkel, 2013). Thus, the consequences of the pains of imprisonment can be considered to be consistent with McAdams’ (2013) conceptualization of contamination and may even contaminate women’s opportunities from grabbing onto hooks for change in prisons (e.g., treatment), or to access those opportunities at all. Withal, evidence suggests the need for research that examines how justice-involved women experience identity changes while in carceral and treatment settings.
What is absent from much of the research on justice-involved women is consideration of how women’s identity development affects them in different stages of the correctional system. While Maruna (2001) focused primarily on men, and Morash and colleagues (in press) focused on imprisoned women, we are specifically interested in exploring whether or not Morash and colleagues’ (in press) findings hold in jails and SAT settings to identify features of each setting that may improve reentry outcomes. We examine how women make sense of their experiences in prison, jail, and community-based residential SAT in relation to their identities. In particular, we investigate what types of identity change occur within each setting and compare setting-specific identity changes.
Method
Data for this investigation consist of a subsample of 118 women on probation and parole from a broader longitudinal study of 402 women. Baseline interviews took place in 2011 and 2012. To be eligible for the broader study, women had to have had a felony conviction, a history of substance involvement, and been on probation or parole for 3 months. As a large proportion of women entangled in the criminal justice system are substance involved, the sample was restricted to women with some indication of involvement with drug and/or alcohol.
Women were recruited to participate in the project by first recruiting probation and parole agents from 13 Michigan counties within 1.5 hr from the research office and then recruiting eligible women from each agent’s caseload. The principal investigator (PI) on the broader project reviewed the caseload list with each agent and assisted in identifying eligible clients. The agents identified 846 women who met the qualification criteria, but some women did not respond to recruitment attempts and did not report to the agents’ offices when the researchers were conducting on site recruitment. Chi-square tests revealed that the only statistically significant difference between the 402 participating and 444 nonparticipating women was that those who did not participate were slightly more likely to be locked up a year later (3.5% of participants and 8.8% of nonparticipants, χ2 = 10.097, df = 1, p = .001, φ = −.109.) and so, those women are not represented in the sample. Agents facilitated recruiting women by (a) giving eligible women a project contact card or flyer so that interested women could arrange a time to hear about the study, (b) introducing women to on-site project interviewers, or (c) seeking permission to share women’s contact information with interviewers. Interviewers hired for the project recruited eligible participants in private meetings.
Participant Characteristics
Three years after the baseline interview, 118 women with the most serious offending histories participated in the life-story interview (McAdams, 2008). These 118 women were part of a group of 168 that had five or more felony convictions at the start of the study and had completed four interviews at various time points before the life-story interview. 1 Seventy-five of the women were on probation and 43 were on parole at the time of the life-story interview (see Table 1 for descriptive statistics). Women ranged in age from 19 to 56 years of age, with a mean of 37 years. Fifty-three women (44.9%) identified as White, 43 (36.4%) identified as Black, 21 (17.8%) identified as multiracial or other, and 1 woman did not report her race/ethnicity. Many of the women were mothers, and 30.5% reported being the sole provider of their children.
Descriptive Statistics of Participant Characteristics (N = 118).
Note. Percentages were calculated from the 118 women. Of the 118 women, one did not report her race/ethnicity, so racial percentages do not add up to 100%.
Procedures, Measures, and Analytic Strategy
Trained interviewers conducted in-person interviews in generally public locations selected by the participants, such as coffee shops and libraries. With their consent, the participants’ responses were audio recorded and later transcribed and loaded into NVivo software for analysis. Participants received US$75 in cash upon completion of the interview. The university’s Institutional Review Board approved the study protocol.
The life-story interview prompted participants to assign chapters to their life stories. Next, the interviewer asked about important life events, including a high point, low point, turning points, challenges, wisdom event, transcendent experience, and future script. The interviewer probed for detailed descriptions by questioning what happened, who was involved, the participants’ feelings at the time of the event, and what the entire scene says about the person.
The PI inductively identified themes based on her repeated reading of 44 women’s life-story transcripts as they related to prisons. She selected the 44 women from the 118 because they had discussed prison experiences in the life-story interview (Morash et al., in press). The PI discovered several pains of imprisonment commonly identified by the women and emerging themes pertinent to narrative identity theory and cognitive transformation theory that the women described in their narratives (Morash et al., in press). Transcripts from the 118 women’s life-story interviews were coded using NVivo software. Agreement on the number of units was determined with 30 out of the 118 women. Two authors examined the 30 life-story transcripts for passages in which women talked about a setting. The Guetzkow’s (1950) U score was .06, indicating an acceptable level of agreement. Once unitizing was established, a codebook of identity-related themes was deductively developed, guided by the three aforementioned theoretical frameworks, which were coded specific to the setting described (e.g., prison, jail, residential SAT). The first author and the PI used the codebook to code 30 transcripts for 12 identity-related themes (see Table 2). After achieving intercoder reliability (Cohen’s [1960] k = .94), they completed the coding.
Number and Percentages of Women that Reported Identity Change in Jail, Prison, and SAT Settings (N = 118).
Note. Percentages were calculated based on the total N for each setting (column total). Some women reported multiple themes in their narratives and we coded for all themes reported, so columns do not add up to 100%. SAT = substance abuse treatment.
We calculated frequencies for types of identity shifts by each setting. We examined the nature of the identity shift and for setting-specific similarities and differences in identity change. In our analysis, we took care to ensure that the concepts developed and illustrations provided typified the most common patterns in women’s accounts. We made systematic comparisons to search for potential differences between women across prisons, jails, and SAT. The findings describe these patterns in-depth and compare them among each of the three settings.
Findings
Of the 118 women, 97 (82.2%) described correctional setting-specific identity changes in the life-story interview. These 97 women are the focus of the present analysis. 2 It is important to note that women had varying experiences with each setting—some women had only experienced one or two of the settings. Table 2 displays the number of women that reported identity change in jail, prison, and treatment settings in the qualitative interview. The most common type of identity development varied across the three settings.
Cognitive Shifts Through New Possibilities
Women most often experienced cognitive shifts in residential SAT settings compared to jails and prisons. Fifty-five women, mostly situated in SAT, “grabbed onto hooks for change,” detailing how they began to see crime as undesirable and in conflict with their idealized identity. For instance, Pamela identified a key turning point in her life as when she decided to “get clean [stop using drugs].” She explained, “I had to go through a program. Nobody made me, I just did it myself. I graduated . . . I did a year of it . . . I just enrolled myself.” When asked why she decided to enroll in residential treatment, she said, “I just knew that . . . next time [if I abused drugs], if [the outcome] wasn’t prison I’d probably die.” She realized that she was on a path that was undesirable, took action to change course, and stressed the importance of treatment being her only viable option. Gloria had a similar realization, stating, “I was just so tired of drinking and getting in trouble . . . I did that [went to SAT] for myself . . . [because] I was killing myself.” Some described grabbing on to hooks for change by following the advice of their substance abuse counselors. While in treatment, Kimberly stated that her counselor’s advice to “stay strong and focused” is something that she “thinks about all the time . . . [because it] helped me to stay out of jail . . . [and] stay clean [off drugs].” The common thread is that women who grabbed onto hooks for change stressed the importance of voluntarily making the choice to receive SAT and described taking full advantage of opportunities and resources to better themselves.
Other types of cognitive shifts occurred in which woman in the sample did not seize opportunities to achieve a desired change. In particular, 22 women described finding the criminal lifestyle as no longer desirable, especially after having numerous run-ins with the law. Narratives regarding dissatisfaction with a criminal lifestyle occurred at nearly the same rate for jails and prisons. For example, Cadence, who is in jail, explained, [After my third DUI] I was just tired of being in trouble . . . tired of the embarrassment of probation and everything I had to go through with that last one—[losing] money, [taking part in] community service, living in a three-quarter house [and] doing jail time. It was just so overwhelming that it was like, “No more. I’m done.”
Cadence realized the consequences of drinking and driving were not worth it and decided to stop. Likewise, Mallory, who was in prison, viewed criminal activity as undesirable after being incarcerated 5 times for stealing. In her attempt to avoid shoplifting, she stopped going to stores if she did not have money, asserting that “anything worth having [is] worth working for.” When asked why she changed she responded, “My age is a big factor . . . I’m not young anymore. My health is not what it used to be. I can’t take the concrete cells and the cold.” Overall, women who became dissatisfied with a criminal lifestyle generally recalled maturing or aging-out of former criminal identities, desiring to avoid the consequences of engaging in illicit activities.
Like dissatisfaction with crime, a similar number of women in jail and prison imagined a new prosocial role for themselves. After speaking to her daughter while in prison, Yolanda said the conversation caused her to ask herself, “Do you want to keep on doing this all your life, or do you want to change it?” She realized she could have a better outcome for herself and her children; thus, she made the decision to stop engaging in illicit activity. Viola had a similar experience in jail. While incarcerated she realized she was “ruining her kids’ lives” by being away from them. She described praying and thought, “You can fix this . . . At that point I had the strength and . . . [could earn my kids’] forgiveness.” Withal, women typically aspired to become better mothers, gain independence, and live more stable lives.
Narrative Identity Shifts Through Faith and Interpersonal Connections
In addition to cognitive shifts, 53 women reported shifts in narrative identity, sometimes describing shifts in more than one setting that occurred at different times over the course of their lives. Spiritual redemption most frequently occurred in jails and prisons. For example, Penelope, who was in jail, described how her pregnancy led to her religious redemption: It was a huge turning point . . . The whole time in jail, knowin’ I was pregnant, I just prayed to God that I would do it different this time . . . that I could be the best mother that I could possibly be. Holdin’ [my daughter] for the first time after I gave birth and it was, like, you know, I had a second chance. You know, like, I was forgiven for letting my first daughter go [lost custody].
Yolanda also experienced religious redemption while in prison. She prayed, God help me to do this. Show me how to walk the right way. I don’t want to go back here [to prison] . . . [Then] as I got out [of prison] . . . I was so strong and focused. I achieved everything I wanted to.
Women’s faith and prayer helped them to gain strength and forgiveness, improve their perceptions of themselves, and cope with the hardships of incarceration.
However, not all narrative sequences were religious. Generative redemption most often occurred in residential treatment. Recall that generative redemption is a sequence in which a person transitions from a negative to a positive state, resulting in attempts to improve other’s well-being. For instance, Jolene, who was in prison, explained, I took everything in for what it was worth in prison. Then I went to rehab, and I became a group leader in rehab and shared my stories at podiums in front of a lot of people. I had a lot of people that looked up to me for being so young and everything that I had went through. I got off alcohol and drugs for almost three years . . . I was just living successfully. Then my cousin was living with me when he was on drugs and stuff, and I was just trying to get him clean and show him the better ways of life. I actually learned to forgive myself and forgive my mom . . . I was just at peace with myself and living the way I wanted to live. So I was trying to help him, and you know trying not to let him go down the path that I did.
Women described the benefits of being part of a supportive prosocial community. Eve stated, “I was able to help other people, explain things to them and make it easy for them and . . . I felt special.” Not only was Eve helping herself, but she was also assisting others to succeed in recovery, which made her feel “valuable.” Some women used their knowledge of substance abuse and recovery by providing advice and assistance to loved ones in similar circumstances. A few even returned to rehabilitation centers as motivational speakers or volunteers, and some discussed hopes of pursuing careers as substance abuse counselors. It is possible that this finding was less common in carceral settings where some women avoid the risk of entanglement in “the mix” (Owen, 1998) as a survival strategy.
In contrast, some identity change did not result in a positive outcome. Twice as many women in carceral settings narrated contamination than in those in residential treatment. While serving a 5-year sentence in prison, Mary deplored “people be like, ‘I’ve changed.’ Bullsh*t ‘cause I didn’t change ‘til my mama died. You get worse in prison, literally.” Likewise, Carmen described her negative prison-related experience: They sentenced me to two and a half years—that was my max. I was pregnant when I went to prison, and I ended up having a stillborn, so I was mad about that. Then I went and seen the parole board, and they told me that I wasn’t gonna go nowhere in life again so that made me angry. And they told me that I deserved to lose my daughter, which is wrong. So I told them to “f*ck off” and I walked out, so I ended up doing the other 18 months.
In a similar account, Carly described an incident in which she was pushed into a metal table during a prison fight and ultimately lost her baby. Consequently, she blamed herself for her daughter not “being here today.” In a somewhat different narrative, Andrea asserted because of her imprisonment “I’m crazy now, I really am. It’s hard for my kids.” Although this was not the typical contamination narrative, it illustrates how settings may influence the direction of identity development. Contamination generally involved damage to motherhood roles, traumatic experiences such as exposure to crime and violence, and other negative situational factors.
The Pains of Separation and Callous Environments
Over twice as many women in jails and prisons reported pains than those in SAT. Despite these pains, very few women said the carceral setting deterred them from crime. The most common type of imprisonment-associated pain reported by women involved the hardships of separation from children. For example, Melody explained that “I was [in prison] for eight years so [my daughter] didn’t [remember me]. [She] came to visit and she was just lookin’ at me like, ‘This lady looks like me but I don’t know, you know, who she is?’” Separation did not just affect mothers—it was also harmful to children of incarcerated parents. Tina lamented, “I failed my kids when I went to prison . . . I regret that all the time because it has caused problems [for them].” Some mothers in prison shared feelings of powerlessness or fear involving separation from their children. Jenny described that while serving a 2-year sentence in prison, “I didn’t see my kid for 18 months . . . She was calling [her foster parents] mom and dad.” Overall, mothers in carceral settings shared feelings of guilt and anxiety because of long-term separation from their children.
In addition to these child-related hardships, women commonly reported the pains tied to separation or loss of a loved one(s). Women in prison reported these external pains at approximately twice the rate of those in jails and nearly 5 times the rate of women in residential treatment. Separation from family, in general, proved challenging for some women. While in jail, Lana remembered thinking, “Where are my parents? . . . My parents never came to see me, grandparents, sister, husband. I mean no one. [I was] totally alone.” Long distances and limited transportation resources were barriers to visits from family members, which exacerbated the pains of separation. Daphne lamented the pain of losing her husband to murder and the inability to comfort her son while she was in treatment: That was the worst feeling ever, knowing that [my son] needed me and I couldn’t be there . . . I just cried and cried—they still made me go to these classes and stuff . . . I could’ve left, like the door is open. But . . . if you leave during that and its court ordered for you to go . . . I could have went to prison if I would have left.
Although external pains overwhelmingly involved imprisonment, Daphne’s account provides insight as to how external pains can be experienced in SAT when participation is involuntary and liberty is restricted. Likewise, Melody said “three years after I was there [in prison], my aunt had passed away. And we was pretty close, and I couldn’t go to the funeral, so that was pretty bad too.” For some, separation from loved ones exacerbated the pains associated with loss.
Others described dealing with the hardships of incarceration or treatment, especially related to health care concerns. A comparable number of women in jail and prison described situational hardships they experienced behind bars. Lily complained, “I had a hard time getting my medications” while in jail. She emphasized the need for women to have their medical needs met, especially those who are HIV positive. She stated, “If you’re only in—even if it is jail—for two weeks, and you skip them two weeks [of medication], you’re setting your whole self backwards.” Others detailed problems accessing quality mental health treatment. Of her prison term, Misty complained, “[t]hey just dose [medicate] people here—it’s like everyone is bipolar—when everyone really isn’t.” In addition to physical and mental health concerns, women in prison discussed the dehumanizing atmosphere of imprisonment. For instance, Nicole described her time in prison as “degrading,” because, you’re treated [with] such disregard and disrespect . . . They [correctional officers] don’t give two craps about you. You can lay on the floor and die, and they don’t care . . . I’ve seen enough . . . I’ve seen people die.
Negative prison and jail experiences involved poor mental and physical health care, exposure to violence and death, and degrading or inhumane treatment from correctional officers.
Hardships described in treatment setting were scarce and differed contextually from those described in jail and prison settings. Specifically, women in treatment settings who described bad experiences generally voiced dissatisfaction with the quality of treatment they received, rather than suffering from unsafe/degrading living conditions or separation from loved ones. Cadence asserted that during her time in treatment, “I learned more about drugs in that [three-quarter] house and had more access to drugs than I ever have in my life.” Others reported poor experiences with counselors. After informing her counselor of her rape, abortion, and suicide attempt as a young teen, Hope’s counselor told her mother and “the next thing you know [my mom] throws it in my face.” These narrative accounts indicate that experiences even in treatment settings can negatively affect women’s identity by failing to provide them with a prosocial environment or breaking their trust.
Discussion
Prior research on the process of identity construction among justice-involved individuals has underscored that the labeling process features prominently in contributing to the desistance process (Maruna, 2001). This work points to the salience of identity scripts in which formerly incarcerated individuals perceive their past self as a criminal but their new self as a prosocial individual. While a few studies have examined the role of identity development among those who have contact with the criminal justice system, few studies consider justice-involved women (but see Giordano, 2010; Morash et al., in press), and fewer compare identity change across carceral- and community-based settings. The current study extends previous research through our comparative qualitative analysis of women’s identity change across prisons, jails, and SAT.
Our findings highlight situational differences regarding the prevalence and nature of identity development in each correctional setting. Generally speaking, women in SAT had positive identity development, whereas those in prisons and jails had negative identity constructions. Women’s narratives of grabbing onto “hooks for change” occurred largely in SAT settings. Consistent with prior research, we found that women voluntarily commit to a prosocial identity and connections with peers (Berg & Cobbina, 2017). We find that hooks for change can serve as stepping-stones to redemption. Although women in jails and prisons also described imagining a new prosocial role or being dissatisfied with a criminal lifestyle, they were far less likely to describe intentionally taking steps to attain the new identity than women in SAT. Those in drug treatment often stressed the importance of exercising their own agency, underscoring the voluntary nature of the decision to change. Even though incarcerated women may have desired a prosocial, noncriminal identity, fewer actually grabbed onto “hooks for change.” Findings suggest that the prison and jail environment deprive women of agency, meaningful opportunities for change, and prosocial support, which, in turn, may hinder the redemption process. This finding is in tune with research that demonstrates how pains of carceral settings can undermine how individuals benefit from prosocial commitments and opportunities (Liebling & Maruna, 2005; McCorkel, 2013) and makes a case for diverting substance-involved women to rehabilitative programs rather than carceral settings. Women’s agency and reconstructions of a prosocial self may be aided by voluntary programming and treatment that incorporate narrative therapies.
In our study, redemption resulting in generativity occurred more in SAT than in jails or prisons. In addition to making good out of a negative situation, women used their treatment experiences to assist others in treatment and in the community. Treatment and carceral environments may improve women’s outcomes by providing generative opportunities. For example, opportunities for women to volunteer, share recovery stories, support other clients, and receive training in how to support to others with similar challenges in the community may improve interventions. Consistent with extant research, religious and spiritual redemption was commonly narrated in prison and jail settings (Maruna, 2001), suggesting that it is useful for coping with challenging situations, especially when one has access to limited resources.
Prisons and jails offered similar types of identity change and more often had negative consequences on women’s identity than did those residing in residential SAT. These similarities suggest that Morash et al.’s (in press) findings regarding women’s identity change in prisons generally hold up in the jail context. Women in prisons and jails often constructed positive identities involving maternal goals for reentry and increased religiosity. Women’s histories of trauma and struggle were exacerbated by the pains they endured during their incarceration. Nonetheless, few women experienced deterrence from the carceral settings, while contamination was more common. Furthermore, situational pains were more prevalent in the context of incarceration than treatment. Disconnection from loved ones and the struggle for safety/survival complicated women’s opportunities to construct a prosocial self. The pains of incarceration may actually hinder positive identity development, as women often described having suffered the indignities of imprisonment and separation from children and loved ones. (Morash et al., in press).
Conclusion
Although the research results are unique, several caveats must be considered. First, the sample was restricted to substance-involved women with multiple felony convictions in Michigan and may not be indicative of women with other offense charges or released in other communities. Second, the current study did not account for all types of redemptive gains in the coding process (i.e., agency, communion) because the focus was to determine whether findings involving narrative shifts observed in prior research could be extended to female justice-involved populations. Future research should explore the role of redemptive gains in women’s correctional placement. Third, the life-story interview did not ask specific questions about the various community-based treatment programs women participated in. The data are based on what women described as significant in their identity transformations, but cannot tell us which programs women attended, nor provide concrete conclusions about the components and features of successful treatment programs. Fourth, we recognize that SAT facilities often employ cognitive behavior therapy with the purpose of creating cognitive changes. It is possible that these programs created change, but it is also possible that women’s narratives were recitations of logics they had learned in treatment, rather than how they truly rationalize their progress. Our data do not allow us to form stable conclusions about this, although the life-story interview is designed to reflect the interviewee’s current identity.
Fifth, women in prisons and jails may have been simultaneously receiving SAT. We did not code for this because women did not commonly discuss receiving SAT in prisons and jails, which greatly limited our ability to draw conclusions about who received treatment and the nature/quality of the treatment. For the few that did discuss receiving SAT during incarceration, they were coded into the respective prison or jail groups. Sixth, 21 of the women did not describe an identity shift related to their incarceration or treatment experiences. Some of these women gave brief responses and did not provide adequate detail about how the experience impacted “who they are as a person,” and others did not know how it impacted them. Our data do not allow us to draw conclusions about why these women did not experience an identity change. However, the life-story interview draws upon current identity, so it is possible that the stories these women shared were no longer significant to their identity. Finally, it is possible that other types of pains are experienced in residential SAT than in prisons. We intentionally created a coding scheme based on theory (the pains of imprisonment) and may not have captured other treatment-based pains. Future research should explore whether or not differential types of pains are experienced among the three correctional settings.
Notwithstanding these limitations, this study presents several implications to correctional policies and procedures to reduce harm and promote women’s reentry success. First, SAT should be widely accessible to women under correctional supervision. Efforts to divert substance-involved women to treatment programs, rather than jails or prisons, may improve their reentry outcomes. Correctional systems should avoid the use of gender-neutral risk assessment tools, which often ignore women’s needs, place them in excessively coercive environments, and increase their likelihood of recidivating (Holtfreter & Morash, 2003; Holtfreter, Reisig, & Morash, 2004). For circumstances in which incarceration is necessary, housing more SAT programs within jails and prisons may also serve as a method of providing women with access to needed resources and opportunities, such as mental and physical health care, which may serve as potential hooks for change.
Second, our findings present practical implications for correctional officers and community supervision agents (e.g., probation and parole officers). Correctional approaches that emphasize social control can serve to minimize the needs of women (Holtfreter et al., 2004). Correctional officers can take steps to reduce the pains women suffer from overly strict, coercive environments, and thereby avoid undermining women’s service experiences during incarceration. Gordon (1999) found that control-oriented correctional officials were more likely to compromise service delivery than those who took a more social work-like approach. More recent research has found that women under probation and parole experienced less anxiety, less reactance, and greater self-efficacy to avoid crime when their supervision agent was supportive rather than punitive (Morash, Kashy, Smith, & Cobbina, 2015). One way the contaminating effects of incarceration might be reduced by correctional officers is by taking a supportive, rehabilitative approach to working with women instead of a control-oriented one. Likewise, probation and parole officers can improve women’s reentry experiences by taking a supportive, needs-based approach and by connecting women with needed resources and potential “hooks for change.”
Third, correctional systems and officers should focus on women’s interpersonal relationships, as women largely attribute their desistance to their familial roles, such as daughter, mother, or granddaughter (Leverentz, 2014). Specifically, reentry preparation efforts should provide women with opportunities to improve their bonds with children and loved ones and include family in reentry preparation efforts. Although attachment to children does not consistently lead to desistance, it can when accompanied by additional cognitive changes (Giordano et al., 2002). Reentry programs should support women’s attempts to become “better mothers” and help them to see crime as incompatible with this new identity. Policies should make visitations easier and make concessions for women to engage with loved ones during crises (i.e., death of a family member).
Finally, there is a need for correctional organizations to treat incarcerated persons humanely. Despite having committed a crime, system-involved women are people who are deserving of respect. Our findings underscore the need for policies and employee trainings that promote safety and prioritize treating incarcerated women with dignity.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The data collection was funded with NSF grant 1430372, “The Effects of Identity Development on Women’s Recidivism.”
