Called to Serve the Community
/As the Director of Bowie County Probation, Terri Barrett Giles possesses a genuine desire to help people
by ELLEN ORR
“When I was 18, I had assumed that everyone lived like we did,” said Terri Barrett Giles, Director of Bowie County Probation. “Growing up in the small town of De Kalb, I had no idea—I wasn’t even aware of probation.”
Terri’s father, Dale Barrett, was the Bowie County Commissioner for 24 years. When Terri began studying at Texarkana College immediately following high school, he recommended she apply for a part-time position open at the Probation Department. In September 1985, Terri was hired as a receptionist. With her sights set on becoming a kindergarten teacher, she had begun her college career as an education major. Soon, however, she realized a different calling.
“To become exposed to this population [of people on probation], to hear their stories—that they were selling drugs on the corner when they were 10 years old for their parents because they would receive less punishment than the parent, or that, at 7 years old, their dad would give them a beer, and they’d start drinking . . . I just saw a need and knew I wanted to work with this population,” she recalled.
In 1987, Terri was promoted to caseworker, a job she worked full-time while attending East Texas State University. In 1992, she graduated and was promoted to a probation officer. In 2001, she became a supervisor, and in 2007, she took on the role of Assistant Director. In 2017, she was appointed as the Interim Director, and in 2018, 33 years after she was hired as a part-time receptionist, Terri was named the first female Director of Bowie County Probation. “I wouldn’t be where I am today without my mentors: Linda Hooper, Harland Jones, Gary Morgan, Jerry Morgan, and Jack Pappas,” she said.
When Terri began 36 years ago, there were 11 probation officers in the county, 10 of them men. Today, she leads a team of 26 officers, six of whom are men. This gender flip isn’t the only way the department has changed over the last four decades.
Probation is no longer primarily a punitive exchange. Rather, Terri’s department today works to empower offenders to comply with the conditions of their probation by offering employment classes and referring them to treatment for substance abuse and other mental illnesses. There are five licensed professional counselors on staff—an invaluable resource Terri does not take for granted.
The increased magnitude of what the department offers is not offset by the increase in staff; officers today work longer hours than ever before. “This is not a Monday-to-Friday, 8-to-5 job any longer,” she said, “and every day is very stressful. Working in probation requires time management and organizational skills. A single caseload could have 150 cases.” At any given time, the department is handling about 4,000 cases.
The only predictable element of a workday is that it will be nonstop; other variables are wild, due to the barriers faced by the population served. “For example, a lot of offenders don’t have transportation; they’re relying on the bus system, or someone has to bring them in, or they have to walk—it is a struggle,” Terri said. “[As a probation officer,] you to have to stop and think, ‘Okay, this person wasn’t just able to get in their car, crank the engine, and drive here. They’re probably going to be late.’ However you have your day planned—it may not go that way.”
Understandably, the field of probation experiences high employee turnover. “This is a job, in my opinion, that you either love or hate,” she said. “There is no in-between. It is very difficult. It’s repetitious. It’s a lot of documentation. The word I think I hear the most is ‘overwhelmed.’ It is very overwhelming. You work very hard, you’re very committed, and you don’t always see the success that you’re expecting to see. It can be frustrating.”
Terri believes that the key to longevity is passion for the people. “You have to genuinely care for that person who’s sitting across from you—understand where they’ve been and how they got here in order to help them,” she said. “You have to have that desire to help people, which most probation officers do. And when you do see people’s behaviors change, it’s so rewarding.”
Much of Terri’s career fulfillment comes from the Bowie County Women’s Recovery Center, a 10-month residential program for women facing incarceration over substance abuse or mental health issues. Since opening in 2008, the program has graduated 1,179 women. “We have a graduation ceremony every month,” Terri said. “A lot of the women we see have never completed a high school degree. To see people who have never participated in any sort of graduation ceremony—it’s amazing.”
The women at the center are not a homogenous group, however. “Substance abuse doesn’t discriminate; it affects all walks of life,” Terri emphasized. “One woman might have dropped out of high school, while the person next to her might be a speech pathologist. You may have someone who’s 21 sitting next to someone who’s 65 and has never maintained any kind of sobriety.
“I remember sitting at one of the graduations and thinking how easy it would be for me to be on the other side—you know, if I had taken the wrong path, or if I’d been exposed to the trauma that these women have endured, it could easily be me,” she continued.
In addition to the Women’s Center, Terri is also proud of and grateful for the county’s specialty courts. Previously known as drug courts, these dockets allow a team of people—judges, prosecutors, defense attorneys, counselors, and probation officers—to work together to rehabilitate offenders who experience substance addiction and mental illness.
“Our department has done a lot of good over my career,” she reflected. “Everyone in our county works so well together. The judges—Judge John Tidwell, Judge Jeff Addison, Judge Craig Henry—they are so supportive of everything we do, and that makes all the difference.”