Ninabeth Fay-Butler, clad in a dark-blue, military-style uniform with heavy black boots, strode into a housing unit one recent morning during her rounds at Bridgewater State Hospital. The 54-year-old captain, a supervisor in the medium-security, combination prison and treatment center, moved with confidence among the male inmates as she stopped to scoop up one man's stray sock and to chat with another inmate.
The casual exchanges belied the dangers of her job.
"I like challenges," said Fay-Butler, who has worked at the hospital for 17 years.
"One thing about corrections is you get to use your brain a lot. I've been in a unit by myself with 81 lifers. In that situation, you have to start thinking with your head."
Fay-Butler is among a growing number of female correction officers in Massachusetts and the United States. At Bridgewater State Hospital, where men are sent for psychological evaluation or treatment after involvement in serious crimes, 23 of the 235 uniformed officers are women.
Bridgewater State Hospital, part of a complex of correctional facilities in south Bridgewater, is unusual in that its top three administrative positions are held by women -- superintendent Karin Bergeron and deputy superintendents Sue Thibault and Lisa Mitchell.
Women guarding men was unheard of in this country before the 1970s. As recently as 1977, the US Supreme Court ruled that states could legally bar women from working in dangerous male prisons. In the past three decades, though, new legislation in states, as well as shifts in administrative policy, have opened the doors to prison as a female workplace. Today, about 13 percent of correctional officers in the country are women.
Norfolk County Sheriff Michael Bellotti, who runs the 502-bed Norfolk County Correctional Center in Dedham, said women officers seem to be better at communicating with inmates, which is an increasingly important skill in corrections. "Having women on staff also just seems to normalize things in an institution," he said.
In Massachusetts correctional facilities, male and female officers wear the same uniform . Women do almost everything men do. The only exception is strip searches, but in an emergency, they may do that, too.
Like male officers, women in the profession often find themselves alone on a cell block surrounded by scores of dangerous men. Correction officers in Massachusetts do not carry weapons. "You've got your radio and that's it," Fay-Butler said.
The job can be dangerous. In 1981, a few years after women began entering the profession in significant numbers, a female officer in New York state was murdered and mutilated. Many others have been attacked and injured. A female officer in Florida was beaten to death by inmates in 2003.
But studies have found that female officers actually are slightly less likely to be injured or killed than male officers, according to Amy Farrell, associate director of Northeastern University's Institute on Race and Justice. She said the reason probably is that women tend to be assigned to institutions in which security levels are lower.
Fay-Butler, who worked at the medium-security Old Colony Correctional Center in Bridgewater for many years and intends to retire soon, said she never has been physically attacked, although she did come close once. "I was face to face with an inmate who was a lot bigger, yelling at me," she said. "I was fortunate that another inmate -- one who had some 'juice,' or clout, with the other inmates -- stepped in and protected me."
Inmates may be reluctant to attack a woman because it can hurt their status. "The fact that you're a woman can protect you a little more," she said. "What's to be gained by hitting a woman?"
Robert Kersting, director of social work programs at Westfield State College, has studied and written about the experiences of women officers in all-male institutions. He said women face prejudice from both inmates and other officers. "For women guarding men, it is an uphill battle," he said. "There is real sexism in jails and prisons across the United States. For a woman to make it in that setting, they have to manage the culture."
Massachusetts has been among the leaders in the United States in hiring women for correction jobs, Farrell said. A woman, Kathleen Dennehy, was commissioner of the department until recently, and there are many high-ranking women in the agency.
"As you look at the management structure of the department, it is clear that many females have advanced through the ranks to become deputy superintendents, superintendents, and department- division heads," said Acting Commissioner James R. Bender.
Correction officers, male or female, know they must depend on each other, and the stakes can be as high as life or death.
"Everybody pulls their own weight," said Steven McKenzie, a captain at Bridgewater State Hospital and a colleague of Fay-Butler's.
"Whether you are a woman or a man, if you don't pull your weight, you have problems."
Fran MacKinnon Berghaus was among the first women to become a correction officer in Massachusetts. Assigned to Bridgewater State Hospital since 2004, she worked for 19 years at Cedar Junction, the maximum-security state prison in Walpole. She said that inmates sometimes tested her and at other times responded better to her than they did to her male counterparts.
"You have a lot of men who will respect a woman, and you have some that don't," she said.
"It all depends on how you present yourself."
Robert Preer can be reached at preer@globe.com. ![]()