When an opportunity presents itself, sometimes you have to act. That is how Correctional Officer K.A. Davis began his career with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.
“When I heard that San Quentin was hiring, I didn’t think twice, I joined CDCR,” C.O. Davis said.
Before becoming a correctional officer with the department, Davis was working with Bank of America.
“Working at the bank was a good job, but I needed a job with real security for my growing family,” Davis explained.
Davis said his brother, Richard Davis, began working at the prison a couple of years before him and was happy working at the Vacaville State Prison.
“I saw Richard’s overtime check of $1,800. I knew I had to join too. So in 1985 I went to the Academy and I joined the San Quentin staff on October 28, 1985. This place was close to my house; it was just too good to turn down, said Davis.”
Yet his transition from bank employee to correctional officer was not that easy, he said. Besides having a brother working in the department, he had another issue.
“My brother, Jerry Davis, was serving time in Tehachapi, another California prison. He did 12 out of 18 years for strong-arm robbery,” said Davis.
In addition to having both brothers involved in the system, Davis found a number of his street associates were incarcerated..
“I started working in the H-Unit dorms, and ran into 10 guys I knew,” Davis said. “CDCR has a policy about what is allowable and what is not. Can you imagine coming to work as a prison officer and seeing people you grew up with?” he asked.
CDCR policy is to report it immediately if you run into someone you know. He chose not to and when asked if that presented any problems, he said it hadn’t.
“The inmates knew not to ask for anything from me, they just knew,” Davis said.”
On his first day of work, Davis said there was an inmate who taught him some of the ropes when he was put in charge of feeding over 100 men.
“When I got to work, they handed me a set of keys and told me to go to the fourth tier. An inmate named Malo showed me how to set up the food cart,” said Davis. “Although I had gone through the Academy, they didn’t teach us how to feed the men.”
Having no idea exactly what he was doing that first day, it took him about an hour to feed 53 men. Then, “I had to escort from 40 to 60 men in East Block to one of six yards on the back side of the unit and I relied on inmates to show me what to do,” explained Davis.
In those days, Davis said there were gangs but he did not know anything about them.
“I had a Blood in the first cell, a Northerner in the second, and a Sureño in the fifth cell, that was my first introduction to the Bloods, Crips, Mexicans, and White gangs,” said Davis. “I learned a lot in those early days and I gained a lot of people skills working with so many inmates.”
Davis and his brother Richard, who recently retired from Emeryville Police Department, have been speaking at high schools, and county jails for several years, trying to make a difference in the students’ lives.
Recently they spoke at Castlemont High School for Career Day. Many of the guys just need direction, he said. Unfortunately, some are into a “get rich or die trying” philosophy.
“When we first started public speaking, people were very skeptical. But we were trying to bring them around because they had no guidance or direction,” Davis said. “Yes, we got booed, but people began to listen because they knew we were the last leg of the criminal justice system,” Davis said. “Their families and the community were supportive of our jobs.”
Today the climate in San Quentin has changed, says Davis. When he first began working here, 60 percent of the prisoners were locked down.
“Although there were education programs here at San Quentin back then, there were not as many as there are now,” Davis said. “I think it’s good that the men have a link to educating themselves.”
He also thinks CDCR did not train him or other officers to recognize those that were new to the system, and those that were institutionalized.
“Now some of the younger officers are bringing in a mentality that prisoners are scum. That puts the department in a bad light and it’s not a productive belief system.” Davis said.
Whether it is studying for a GED, AA, seminary credential or degree, he said, once a person knows better, they will treat others better.
For almost three decades, Davis has gone through a variety of challenges with CDCR but a personal tragedy caused him to rethink his position with the department.
“One day when I was at work I got a call from a friend who said, ‘your baby’s dead,’ ” Davis said. “I tried to get someone to work for me because I had to leave and they couldn’t get a relief officer.” Davis said he left anyway
“My son Keith Davis was killed in a case of mistaken identity in 2012,” Davis said. “He was 19 and had just gotten out of the Youth Authority.”
Davis explained that while in Youth Authority, Keith had met someone who closely resembled him. Keith was murdered while he was at the house of an associate he met in Youth Authority.
“The killers came around the corner of the house with AK 47’s and they thought my son was someone else who had been in YA,” Davis explained.
“The investigation is still on-going even though the murder happened two years ago,” he said.
Davis said the tragedy of his son’s death motivates him to keep going, and talking to kids.
“The kids today are in a different world where we don’t see each other as our brother’s keeper, or as helping each other.”
Davis often speaks at the Catholic Charities in Oakland where he talks to kids regularly. He wants these kids to know that he is speaking to them out of love.
“As a black man, I love my race, however we men of color must tell our children that they are loved and validated, which gives them a sense of who we are whether they are Black, Hispanic, or Asian,” said Davis.
He wants young men and women to know that often there will be only seconds to make a decision that could put them in prison.
“Things have changed a lot. Nowadays, my community wants to know more and more about San Quentin because they don’t see it as a threat.” Davis said. “I am very proud of my uniform, and I wear it in my community,” he adds.
Davis will be retiring after 28 years with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.
–JulianGlenn Padgett contributed to this story
