Taking the “Risky Route” Undergraduate Studies to Correctional Social Work
By Bella Bertolami and Jim Stellar
In our last blog in 2022, BB and JS discussed her transfer to Boston University and her desire to get into a research lab for experiential. Now she is a part-time graduate student at Boston College in the School of Social Work at the end of her first year. She has spent the past two years working full-time in a women’s prison while taking graduate classes at night. Talk about experiential education! So to start, let’s hear about that job.
I (BB) was planning on taking what I would consider to be the “comfortable route” following my graduation from Boston University. I envisioned jumping into graduate school right away. I had planned for myself to immediately start a PsyD program. I even went as far as to put my deposit down for one. The reality that I came to was that it was not feasible. Trying to fund an undergraduate education in and of itself was rough. Just knowing that debt was in my name was rough, but I knew it was going to get worse after graduation. With the reality of private loan payments and the cost of attendance being over 200k for five more years of school, I knew I couldn’t do it.
Though I had already been applying to internships for the upcoming fall, I pulled out. At this point, I had no idea what to do. I had my heart set on a specialization in forensic psychology, which is extremely hard to find. At this point, I was too late to apply to any other programs, and, quite frankly, I was lost in what direction to go in. I had set myself on a doctoral program. I had this vision created for myself and an image of my career. I did not even know what graduate programs to look at. I honestly felt like I was failing compared to my classmates. I watched as all my peers went to prestigious graduate schools with fully planned futures ahead of them. I had zero plans for how I would spend the upcoming months, let alone what I would do for graduate school.
I tried to enjoy my summer and work a fun side quest job. August came and went, and I was paralyzed with fear about what to do for the upcoming year. At this point, I still had zero direction for graduate studies. So I decided I would make myself uncomfortable. I started applying to all sorts of jobs. Residential treatment programs, schools, community health centers, everywhere under the sun. I decided it would be best for me to shift my mindset. I started considering this “gap year” as a time to push myself and gain some hands-on experience. Despite all this uncertainty in my life, I remained certain that I wanted to work with a forensic population, whether it be now or later. With that said, I figured I may as well try to get my foot in the door.
Coming from a world of Early Education and working with children, it felt vastly different to be applying for positions to work with adults, let alone in this setting. I interviewed, toured, and received a handful of job offers. I tried to picture myself in each of these positions, and I found myself most excited by the thought of working in corrections. At this point, my mentality had shifted so much. It did not matter to me that I was not doing the same thing as everyone else; what difference is a few years? I cannot convince myself that I am behind when my life is just starting.
Without any further thought, I threw myself right into the intersection of mental illness and incarceration. This would be the best thing I could do for myself. It is funny to think that what started as such a murky road and educational crisis turned into something that would ultimately shape my goals and career trajectory. At first I was weary, I have worked with toddlers and preschoolers most of my life. I was intimidated when thinking about working with adults; they are complicated in different ways. I figured I would find my way back somehow to working with a younger population, but you never know until you try, right?
Within the first month, I got an email from my boss saying that he could see my “clinical chops showing.” This was a clear representation that, despite my own doubt, I could be proud of my efforts to push myself outside of my bubble. Here is what I can say, almost two years later. The experience I have gained working in a women’s prison cannot be matched in any course. This experience has prepared me for graduate school better than any lecture, textbook, or coffee chat could. You can’t learn how to insert an IV until you do it; same deal here. No class can teach you how to react in a moment of crisis. No professor can prepare you to have profanities yelled left and right, be blamed for systematic errors, be the scapegoat for pain, and still sit with and feel compassion and patience for the person in front of you. As time has passed, I have come to realize that these experiences are shaping me as a person and an individual in the mental health profession.
Despite all this, sometimes I still catch myself worrying if I am behind.
