METRO TRANSITIONAL CENTER
Facility Information
- Address
- 1303 Constitution Road, Atlanta, GA 30316
- Phone
- (404) 624-2380
- Fax
- (404) 624-2398
- County
- DeKalb County
- Operator
- GDC (Georgia Dept. of Corrections)
Security Classification
Last updated: October 22, 2025
5 of the 238 people held here are classified Close security (2.1%), undated table, produced October 22, 2025.
| Security level | People | Share |
|---|---|---|
| Close | 5 | 2.1% |
| Medium | 91 | 38.2% |
| Minimum | 142 | 59.7% |
| Total | 238 |
Source: Georgia Department of Corrections records produced to GPS under the Open Records Act (R024615-101925). A person's security level is GDC's classification of that person, which can differ from the prison's own designation.
Following Metro Transitional Center?
Leadership & Accountability (as of 2026 records)
Officials currently holding positional authority at this facility, with deaths attributed to GPS-tracked records during their leadership tenure. Inclusion reflects role-based accountability, not legal findings of personal culpability. Death counts shown as facility / career.
| Role | Name | Since | Deaths this facility / career |
|---|---|---|---|
| Superintendent (facility lead) | Alexander, Latia Nicole | 2024-01-01 | — / — |
| Assistant Superintendent (facility deputy) | Seemore, Traci | 2026-06-16 | — / — |
About
Last updated October 4, 2026.(DS)
Metro Transitional Center: A Reentry Facility Whose Mission and Its Record Diverge
Metro Transitional Center sits in Atlanta, in DeKalb County, and is classified by the Georgia Department of Corrections as a close-security transitional center serving women. Its standing profile lists Superintendent Latia Nicole Alexander as facility lead, with Traci Seemore as Assistant Superintendent. On paper it is a reentry institution — the kind of place where a woman nearing the end of a sentence is supposed to be working a job, saving money, and rebuilding the ordinary scaffolding of a life outside. The evidence GPS holds about Metro describes something considerably more complicated: a facility whose residents report that the work programs are too few to go around, that violence and medical neglect occur inside its walls, and that the classification machinery meant to route women toward rehabilitation has instead been used to route them out — to Pulaski State Prison, a facility with its own documented record of violence.
This page assembles what GPS can document about Metro: its place in the systemwide staffing and infrastructure collapse that the U.S. Department of Justice described in October 2024, the accounts of incarcerated women who have described conditions there, and the analytical question of what a transitional center is for when the transition does not happen.
What a Transitional Center Is Supposed to Do
Georgia's transitional centers occupy a specific niche in the GDC system. They are minimum- or close-custody facilities, typically in urban areas, designed to move people from prison toward employment and community reintegration in the final months of a sentence. The policy architecture reflects that: GDC's Standard Operating Procedure 215.14 governs specialized movement for transitional center residents, and the department maintains a separate transportation framework for work-release travel distinct from ordinary prison transport.
The reentry mission also shows up in the education and vocational policy stack. SOP 108.08 establishes Career Technical Education programs intended to give incarcerated people job skills for institutional work assignments and post-release employment, with referral processes for both on-site and inter-institutional transfers. SOP 108.04 governs High School Equivalency and GED testing. SOP 503.01 establishes faith and character-based initiatives in designated dormitories and facilities, with minimum program lengths of twelve and twenty-four months respectively. None of these policies is Metro-specific, but together they describe the programming a transitional center is supposed to be delivering.
Whether Metro delivers it is a separate question, and the answer GPS has collected is not encouraging.
"Half the Place Doesn't Work"
The most direct account GPS holds of Metro's day-to-day operation comes from an anonymous message received by the organization, describing the facility from the inside. The writer had been at Metro since February and said the place was "supposed to be a tc but it is not." The central complaint was employment: the writer had not yet gotten a job, partly because of the time it takes to shake off a chain gang assignment, but "mostly because they only have so many jobs available." The message described Metro as the largest transitional center in Georgia — and said that half the facility does not work, that residents "just sit round here and chaingang." The writer characterized the arrangement bluntly: "This place is a cash cow for the gdc. They are making money hand over fist here and the GDC is probably not that interested in anybody knowing."
That account is a single anonymous tip and should be weighted accordingly. But it is consistent with a broader structural picture. GPS has documented that officer vacancies in Georgia's prisons have run between 49.3% and 60% systemwide for multiple years, against a national standard of no more than 10%. The hiring pipeline cannot close the gap: the acceptance rate is under 15%, and 82.7% of new hires leave within their first year. Georgia ranks last of fifty states for correctional-officer pay. In a facility whose entire purpose is to move people into outside employment, a staffing model that cannot retain staff is not a peripheral problem — it is the mechanism by which the mission fails.
Violence, Medical Neglect, and the Accounts from Inside
GPS has received recurring accounts from incarcerated women at Metro describing violence inside the facility. Multiple witnesses report that an incarcerated person at Metro was assaulted with a makeshift weapon, causing serious injuries that required a medical procedure. Witnesses also describe a large group assault in which a captain observed a group of inmates attacking a single individual, expressed alarm, and then left without intervening, not returning that night. In the aftermath of that assault, according to the accounts GPS has received, the woman who was injured was placed in solitary confinement and released only after she begged to come out.
GPS has additionally received accounts of homicides at Metro that were misrepresented as suicides. These are serious single-source allegations, and GPS registers them as such: the organization has received these accounts and has not independently corroborated them.
A separate cluster of accounts concerns medical response. An inmate witness reports that a staff member at Metro refused to allow medical staff to assist a woman having a seizure, assuming she was under the influence of K2. That account sits alongside a systemwide pattern GPS has documented: the October 2024 DOJ findings letter concluded that sexual assault in GDC facilities is "rampant" and that the department does not reasonably protect incarcerated people from sexual harm. Of 456 sexual-abuse allegations recorded in 2022, only 35 were substantiated — 7.7%. GDC's own consultants, PREA Auditors of America, reviewed 388 PREA investigation files in May 2022 and found that not one met the law's standards. Georgia has never submitted a PREA certification of full compliance to the U.S. Department of Justice in the law's two-decade history. The pattern is systemic, and Metro's accounts of non-response to a medical emergency belong to it.
Classification Drift: When a Reentry Bed Becomes a Transfer Lever
The most analytically significant accounts GPS holds about Metro concern classification. An inmate witness reports that a staff member at Metro increased an incarcerated person's security classification in order to effectuate a transfer to Pulaski State Prison. Witnesses describe a staff member sending women to Pulaski rather than guiding them toward rehabilitation, and one account describes a staff member transferring an incarcerated person to what was described as the worst dorm at Pulaski.
This matters because it inverts the facility's function. A transitional center is a lower-custody setting, and the accounts describe women being moved out of it into a facility with a documented record of violence. The DOJ's October 2023 investigation documented constitutional violations at Pulaski, and GPS has separately documented gang members using violence to extort incarcerated people and their families at Pulaski for Women. If classification at Metro is being used as a lever to move women out rather than a mechanism to move them toward release, that is a finding about how the reentry pipeline actually operates — and it is consistent with the broader classification drift GPS has documented across the system.
The accounts also describe housing that does not match the facility's stated purpose. One incarcerated person at Metro reported being housed with individuals they described as cannibals, serial killers, and child molesters; another account describes a person sentenced for simple possession housed alongside people convicted of serious violent crimes. Witnesses describe an incarcerated person at Metro as a "walking target" for others. These are the accounts of people inside the facility, and they describe a population mix that a transitional center's classification logic is supposed to prevent.
The Infrastructure and Food Context
Metro's accounts do not exist in isolation. GPS has documented that most GDC facilities are thirty to forty-plus years old, with patterns of deferred maintenance producing systemwide infrastructure failures: broken cell-door locks, inoperative surveillance and fire-alarm systems, mold and water failures, broken kitchen sanitization equipment, and pest infestations. The DOJ's October 2024 findings, the Guidehouse 2024 assessment, and Commissioner Oliver's public statements that facilities are at "end of life" all corroborate the pattern. GPS treats infrastructure collapse as a force multiplier for the violence, classification, and mortality crises documented at the facility level.
Food service is part of that picture. GDC spends approximately $1.69 per person per day on food as of 2024 and has proposed $1.60 per day in FY27 — under sixty cents per meal — against the FDA Thrifty Food Plan estimate of roughly $10 per day for an adult's nutritionally adequate diet. The state spends approximately fourteen times more on medical care for incarcerated people ($432 million) than on their food. The Marshall Project corroborated the pattern in a May 16, 2026 investigation by Beth Schwartzapfel, "Rats, Insects and Mold," which independently reported rats in kitchens, insects in food, moldy trays, and visible malnutrition across Georgia facilities, and quoted GPS connecting chronic underfeeding to the violence pattern the DOJ documented in October 2024. GPS has separately documented a systemic pattern of food-service sanitation failure that DPH inspection scores systematically fail to capture — tray-sanitizing dishwashers broken for sustained periods, sustained roach and rodent infestation, and meals served on visibly contaminated trays.
What GPS Does Not Have
GPS's mortality registry records zero deaths at Metro Transitional Center from 2020 onward. That is a floor, not an all-time count: GDC reports deaths roughly two months late, and GPS separately holds 791 deaths from 2015 to 2019 in a dataset not included in this count. Zero deaths in the registry means GPS has recorded no deaths at Metro in that window — not that none occurred.
No aggregate signal buckets met the minimum-source threshold for this facility, so the accounts above rest on the individual testimony GPS has collected rather than on a corroborated pattern at scale.
Sources
This analysis draws on GPS's own systemic findings on staffing collapse, infrastructure failure, food-service sanitation, and sexual violence in GDC custody; the October 2024 U.S. Department of Justice findings letter and the October 2023 Pulaski investigation; the Guidehouse 2024 consultant assessment; GDC Standard Operating Procedures 108.04, 108.08, 215.14, and 503.01; a May 16, 2026 Marshall Project investigation by Beth Schwartzapfel; GDC personnel and mortality records maintained by GPS; and inmate and anonymous accounts collected by GPS staff.
Food Safety Inspections
No inspection records are on file with the Georgia Department of Public Health for this facility. GPS has filed an open records request asking where these records are maintained.
What the score doesn't measure. DPH grades kitchen compliance on inspection day — food storage, temperatures, pest control. It does not grade whether today's trays are clean. GPS reporting has found broken dishwashers at most Georgia state prisons we've documented; trays go out wet, stacked, and visibly moldy — including at facilities with recent scores near 100.
Who inspects. Most Georgia state prisons sit in rural counties — often with fewer than 20,000 people, several with fewer than 10,000. The environmental health inspector lives in that community and often knows the kitchen staff personally. Rural inspection regimes don't have the structural independence you'd expect in a city-sized health department. Read the scores accordingly.
Read the investigation: “Dunked, Stacked and Served: Why Georgia Prison Trays Are Making People Sick”
Source Articles (2)
Former leadership
Officials who previously held leadership roles at this facility.
| Role | Name | Tenure | Deaths this facility / career |
|---|---|---|---|
| Superintendent (facility lead) | Jackson, Wendy A | 2023-05-01 → 2026-03-15 | — / 8 |
| DEPUTY WARDEN (facility deputy) | Orsborn, Myra Monique | 2017-01-01 → 2017-12-31 | — / 1 |