Hey empresses! Today we’re diving into one of the most important lessons I’ve learned behind these concrete walls. And trust me, this one didn’t come from a book, a class, or some inspirational poster on the unit wall. It came from bruised pride, disciplinary reports, long nights of silence, and learning the hard way that survival in prison isn’t about dominance it’s about discipline.
This lesson cost me my ego more times than I care to admit. If I can save even one of you from learning it the painful way, then this post has done its job.
The Sayings They Don’t Teach in Prison Orientation
We’ve all heard it before: “If you can’t beat them, join them.” On the outside, that advice sometimes passes as survival. You join the gossip at work so you’re not the next target. You mirror toxic leadership just to climb the ladder. You adapt to environments that reward bad behavior because resistance feels like self-sabotage.
But let me be crystal clear that logic will destroy you in prison.
In the Department of Corrections, “joining them” doesn’t make you safer, smarter, or more respected. It makes you visible, vulnerable, and documented. Prison isn’t a place where you blend in by playing along. It’s a place where every reaction becomes evidence, and every emotion becomes a liability.
Trying to match energy with authority in here isn’t bravery. It’s a shortcut to confinement, lost time, and unnecessary suffering.
Meet Your New “Customer Service” Representatives
Let’s talk about the people who control your daily reality.
Some not all, but enough corrections officers speak to you like you are less than human. Not just “offender” or “inmate,” but disposable. Replaceable. Forgettable. I’ve heard women referred to as trash, animals, and worse. Not quietly either. Loud enough to remind you exactly where they think you belong.
And here’s the catch: you don’t get to respond.
You don’t get to correct tone. You don’t get to explain intent. You don’t get to defend yourself the way you would outside. The moment you do, it’s labeled as attitude, disrespect, or defiance. And suddenly, you are the problem.
It’s like the worst customer service experience imaginable except the person behind the counter can lock you in a cell, take your privileges, and extend your sentence. And there’s no manager to speak to.
The Verbal Warfare Championship (Spoiler: We Always Lose)
Let me save you time, tears, and paperwork: you will never win a verbal confrontation with a CO.
Not if you’re right.
Not if they’re wrong.
Not if you have proof.
Not if you’re calm.
Not if you’re educated.
The system is built so that their word weighs more than your truth.
I’ve tried logic. I’ve tried explaining. I’ve tried standing my ground respectfully. And every single time, I paid for it. Because the issue was never what I said it was that I dared to say anything at all.
Prison arguments aren’t debates. They’re power demonstrations. And the rules are written so the house always wins.
The Height, Tone, and Presence Trap
Let’s talk about how existing can be considered a violation.
Standing tall? “Intimidating.”
Speaking clearly? “Aggressive.”
Asking questions? “Disruptive.”
Not smiling? “Uncooperative.”
Your body language is monitored more than your behavior. For some of us—especially women of color—confidence is automatically interpreted as threat.
I learned quickly that shrinking myself was safer than asserting myself. Not because it was fair, but because it was strategic.
And no, that doesn’t mean surrendering your worth. It means protecting your freedom.
The Write-Up Economy
Disciplinary Reports (DRs) aren’t just punishments they’re currency.
Each one can cost you commissary, visits, phone access, program eligibility, and most importantly, time. Time away from your children. Time away from healing. Time away from freedom.
Contact Cards (CCs) look harmless until they stack. Three of the same kind, and suddenly you’re dealing with a DR anyway.
It’s a system designed to make you hyper-aware, hyper-cautious, and constantly second-guessing yourself. And that mental exhaustion? That’s part of the punishment too.
Learn More About: Disciplinary Reports
The Attitude Adjustment That Wasn’t Optional
Some officers wake up angry. Some carry bitterness like armor. Some use this job as a place to unload whatever control they don’t have in their personal lives.
You’ll feel it the moment they speak to you.
You ask a simple question, and the response feels like an attack. You’re not confused you’re being tested. And the moment you respond emotionally, the label gets stamped: problem inmate.
So you learn restraint. You learn silence. You learn when not to engage.
Not because you’re weak but because you’re wise.
The Art of Strategic Surrender
Here’s the truth nobody wants to admit: manners can save your sentence.
“Yes ma’am.”
“No sir.”
“Understood.”
Those words aren’t submission. They’re shields.
This isn’t about letting people disrespect you internally. It’s about refusing to let external disrespect cost you your future.
You don’t win by proving a point. You win by going home sooner.
The Third Option: Strategic Excellence
You don’t beat them.
You don’t join them.
You outgrow them.
You become disciplined where they expect chaos. Calm where they expect reaction. Focused where they expect failure.
You refuse to let bitterness turn you into someone you don’t recognize.
That’s power.
Playing the Long Game
Most people in prison react. The ones who survive with their sanity intact calculate.
They ask:
- Is this worth my time?
- Is this worth my freedom?
- Is this worth explaining to my kids later?
And usually, the answer is no.
The Real Victory
The real win isn’t an argument.
It isn’t the last word.
It isn’t proving them wrong.
The real victory is walking out unchanged at your core but wiser, stronger, and more controlled.
They can’t take that from you unless you give it away.
Practical Survival Reminders
- Be forgettable when necessary
- Save your fire for growth
- Protect your record
- Remember who you’re doing this for
Final Words
Choose freedom over ego.
Choose silence over satisfaction.
Choose growth over reaction.
You don’t beat them by becoming like them.
You beat them by becoming better.
And that, empresses, is real power.
Read More: 7 Essential Lessons Prison Taught Me About Timing, Order, and Trust
