Diane McNeill stood in front of a banquet hall full of her peers in Albany, N.Y. last month and reflected on how far she had come. Almost 17 years after she began her career as an adult probation officer-after tense moments face-to-face with violent criminals, busy schedules balancing office work and travel, and years of waiting for a promotion and wondering if gender or race discrimination was playing a role-she knew this was the best day she'd ever had on the job.

At the annual conference for the Mid-Atlantic States Correctional Association (MASCA), McNeill received the Sal Russoniello Achievement Award for her years served as president of the organization and her contribution to the field. In the past, she had experienced frustration that her superiors in the adult probation office in Connecticut did not recognize her hard work and dedication to the field she loved. But now, there they were, in the audience, applauding her.

"That was [a great moment], mainly because of the support-because it wasn't there years ago," she said.

McNeill, who is African-American, has worked as an adult probation officer in the tough, waterfront city of Bridgeport, Conn. since July 1987. "For years in my job I never received anything like that."

Working with Offenders

With a sociology degree from Southern Connecticut State University and a masters degree in community counseling from Fairfield University, McNeill initially wanted to work with juveniles rather than adults. But she took the first job offer that came along, as an adult probation officer. She soon realized this was where she belonged.

Today she enjoys getting to know each and every one of her clients and digging to the root of their behavior, using the Pre-sentence Investigation, or PSI. She interviews offenders and their families, friends and former employers in an effort to learn about a person and develop appropriate sentencing.

The PSIs are McNeill's favorite part of her job.

"I assess who this person is, where this person is going," she said. "I interview them. I cross-reference any information they give me with the correlating areas. So, if its families I call the families."

She said she commonly writes up to eight PSIs in one day. "If I'm not writing, I'm making phone calls," she said.

But McNeill has taken on more than just her caseload. In addition to the two years she served as president of MASCA, McNeill now serves as vice president of the American Probation & Parole Association. In that capacity, she supports the president and executive committee of the organization.

She also teaches part-time as an adjunct lecturer at Housatonic Community College in Connecticut.

But it is in her job as a probation officer that she is most satisfied. She is so confident in her skills dealing with clients that she chooses to live among them.

She said she is one of the few probation officers that live in the community they serve. Many people, especially younger officers, live elsewhere out of fear that they might cross paths with the offenders they deal with at work. She said if the officer and the offender can develop a mutual respect for each other and their goals, the relationship works.

Recently, she ran into a previous client in front of her house. She thought, "Should I be upset because now he sees me talking to my neighbor and knows where I live?"

She reassured herself, "I remember the kid being respectful in my office."

But things do not always run so smoothly. And a client's behavior can sometimes be unpredictable.

One time at the office a client with mental health problems threatened her because he misunderstood McNeill's suggestion that he check into a local Mental Health hospital. Though frightened, she was able to subdue the screaming man until help arrived.

Even after one of her worst days at work, she remains dedicated to developing respectful relationships with clients. She continues to strive to "make a connection and make a difference," she said.

Reflecting on the Industry

McNeill identified two pressing issues of concern to her related to the probation and parole professions. The first is that not enough officers exist to adequately deal with the hoarde of people released everyday from the nation's overpopulated prisons. The result, she said, is a higher risk of these people committing another crime.

The other problem has affected McNeill personally: race and gender discrimination.

"I have personally seen the effects of race and gender when it comes to hiring and when it comes to promotions," said McNeill.

She said one time, specifically, she and another black man in the office, the only two people interested in one open position, were passed over for a white male, who was hand-picked by her superiors.

"I thought I was a shoo-in and I wasn't," she said. "They picked the white male, who doesn't have the same seniority."

Despite feeling disappointed at times that promotions did not come her way, McNeill has continued to work hard through the last 17 years.

With great experience and full of confidence-even though she has not achieved an official supervisory role-McNeill leads by example. She often says of herself, "I'm not really a supervisor. I just play one in the office."