For a long time, I couldn't even come close to decide what I wanted to do with my life. I went through the typical ideas every little girl wanted to be. At first it was a princess, and then a veternarian, and then I had a dream of being a doctor. When it came time to pick a major in college, I literally had no clue where I wanted to start. My mom had her associates in Criminal Justice. I would listen to her lectures (as she did everything online) and everything seemed right to me. I felt like that was something I could understand and do well in. Senior year approached and I visited colleges and learned about what my options were and while I was listening I walked in and said this is what I am going to do with the rest of my life. I want to be part of the justice system. My start was a lawyer.

I wanted to become a lawyer and learn all about that end of the justice system. This dream was squashed quick when I learned how much schooling I would have to go through and how much I would have to apply myself for something that I could have an outcome I don't want. I decided police was the next thing I was going to look into. I wanted to be a NYS Trooper. Until I visited the academy on a school field trip. I couldn't have spent 6 months there. The atmosphere wasn't something I would have fit into. I also have a tattoo with such great meaning I will never get rid of. That made me turn my nose away from it.

I didn't know what to do. I kept thinking oh my god there goes my future. The next day on that Albany trip, I visited the corrections academy and that really got my brain thinking. My dad had been a corrections officer for 20 years prior to this visit. He was always comfortable with money. Always was able to give me and my siblings what I wanted. I knew so many corrections officers and they all said the same thing.

"This job is only for a special kind of people." Maybe that wasn't me. I'm not special, never was. This academy seemed more me. Respectful and firm, yet less screaming. This really spiked my thinking. This happened at the beginning of April 2016. Later in the month, I took a visit to Clinton Correctional Facility. And I felt like I was in the right place. That may sound crazy because it is a maximum security prison and it's filthy and gross, but I found it right. I have gotten hell because I changed what I wanted to do. To my family, it's like I lowered my standards in jobs. That wasn't true. I found something to be more right for me. Maybe not as an officer. But something big in there. A counselor in there. Or something a part of the corrections family. As of now, I am holding strong to this profession and I am not taking any suggestions to change. Please don't tell me corrections isn't for me.