Dressed in neon green jumpsuits, 54 men formed a line in Allegheny County Jail’s visitor area midafternoon. They waited to receive a tray with servings of fish, rice, hummus, pita bread, mixed vegetables and a slice of chocolate cake, in celebration of Eid al-Fitr, the last day of Ramadan.
Rev. Dr. Charissa Howe stood next to the food transport cart wearing plastic gloves, double checking everyone’s dietary restrictions and casually chatting with the line.
This charitable act, handing out food to jailed men, marked her final day of work after four years as director of chaplaincy to hundreds of incarcerated men and women at Allegheny County Jail.
Howe had this position since 2021 as part of a partnership with the Foundation of HOPE, an interfaith nonprofit that focuses on people impacted by the criminal justice system.
“It’s been kind of bittersweet making the decision to leave,” she said about her time working as director. “I’m a fundamentally different person.”
Howe had been volunteering for HOPE since 2014 and taught recovery classes from trauma and abuse. Howe clocked so many hours volunteering, she joked, that her options were either to “find a job there or get arrested.”
In 2024, the Pennsylvania Prison Chaplains Association named Howe county correctional chaplain of the year. She also received three degrees from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary — a master of divinity in 2014, a master of sacred theology in 2016 and a doctorate of ministry in 2023, according to the jail’s website.
As director, Howe recruited, trained and handled schedules for more than 70 staff and volunteers.
Howe added grief and support groups for incarcerated men and women. In February, she brought on spiritual advisor Rev. Dr. Tami Hooker, explicitly to support jail staff.
Howe said she often tells the staff that everyone should have a therapist and spiritualist.
“Everything is bigger and harder here,” Howe said.
Hooker, the employees’ chaplain, only works part time but said she makes an effort to provide support to the jail’s staff that work nontraditional shifts by visiting overnight or in the early morning.
“Sometimes people don’t like to talk about the hard things here,” Hooker said. “[But] once you say something out loud, it gets smaller.”
Howe said it was important to remind jail staff that they are not there to fix every person.
“That’s not really what chaplains are called to do, but rather, it was to create safe and holy space where people can feel heard,” Howe said. “The task on paper is to protect and uphold and nurture the spiritual rights and practices of the people there. But on a grander scale, it is to make sure that everyone feels seen.”
Howe said that people often asked her if it was scary to work at the jail. But she has had an overwhelmingly positive experience.
“I never felt in danger,” Howe said.
Touched by her experience at the jail, Howe will be continuing her chaplaincy at Sixth Presbyterian Church in Squirrel Hill.
“They care deeply about things like ministry in the jail, caring for people who are incarcerated. So there will still be opportunities … in the community, to be a voice and an advocate for individuals within the prisons and jails in our communities,” she said.
While Howe decided to take a step back from leading the chaplaincy program, she said she will continue to volunteer and lead groups for trauma and abuse alongside her 80-pound pit bull mix, Pecas, whose name means “freckles” in Spanish.
Sara Marmo, chaplaincy operations coordinator, worked with Howe for close to three years. The two sat at desks perpendicular to one another in the chaplaincy office. She said Howe is flexible and funny, which was important when working in an environment such as the jail.
Marmo said that during her time Howe was responsible for creating more holistic services, digitizing and reorganizing files post-covid and instituting a robust training process for those new to the chaplaincy program.
Beyond the legal requirement for jails to offer protections for religious exercise, Howe said access to religious spaces gives the incarcerated population a way to build resilience, connection, value and a way to be a part of something bigger.
Daily religious services have up to 30 incarcerated people attending them a day.
Howe recalled a moment that has stayed with her. It came while teaching prerelease classes, which are designed to support people about to be released from jail.
“I said to the women in the class, healing is hard work. Growth is hard work, but it’s important work for us to do, because that’s how we learn to live into being the unique and beautiful and special creation that God has made each and every one of us to be,” Howe said.
Featured Local Businesses
One of the women started sobbing.
“I asked her what was wrong, and she said, ‘No one’s ever told me I mattered before,’ ” Howe said. “This is the time and place where people realize something has to change.”