Anonymous: “RE-ENTRY, A Guide to Success?”

Editor’s Note: The reader should note that, happily, after writing this essay, the author subsequently was granted a law license and is now a practicing attorney. However, to best communicate the gestalt of the piece, I’ve published the essay as it was written, i.e., before the author received news of the bar admission.

Essay by Anoymous:

This essay is a first person narrative of my experience with prison re-entry after a multi-year prison sentence. I undoubtedly encountered cultures and conditions while in prison which challenged my ability to succeed at re-entry; however that subject is best reserved for a separate article. Nonetheless, omitting that fact altogether could be misleading in light of my ultimate success in dealing with the Prison-Industrial Complex (“PIC”). It is sufficient to say, becoming a productive member of society was hindered by spending time in prison, and I therefore consider it unimaginable that any other person spending years of their life in high security level prisons would not be similarly affected. Thus, the resources necessary for successful re-entry will probably be dictated by each person’s prison experience.

In the spring of 2002 I was released from prison to a five year mandatory parole term. This came about after serving six and a half years of a seven year sentence. I was never housed in a security level classified below “medium” even though the system I served time in had both minimum and minimum restricted security prisons. However, the vast majority of my incarceration was served at “maximum” also known as “administrative segregation” in that particular prison system. Again, elaborating on this is more appropriate for an article on some other topic, but warrants mention here for the reason stated above. My only parole plan at the time of my release involved an interstate transfer. I feared that staying in the same state would make it much more difficult to ever transcend the PIC. Among the reasons why I felt this way was that from 1996 to 1997 I was a “contract convict” wherein the Department of Corrections sent me to another state to be housed in exchange for payment: first in a private for-profit prison and then later to a county jail also seeking to make a profit. Additionally, my immediate family members who were in a position to offer me financial, emotional, and moral support were no longer living in the state where I would be released on parole.

Despite the fact that I completed my entire prison sentence before my release date, and my release came as no surprise to anyone because I had served the entire sentence, the necessary approvals and agreements for interstate-compact parole were not completed prior to my release. Consequently, I was required to comply with the terms and conditions of parole without any foreseen residence or any previously arranged options. Fortunately, from the very beginning I had a number of resources available to me that were vital for successful re-entry. Being essentially homeless, most individuals probably would have ended up in some sort of shelter or very low-grade motel. Also, any place where I would be spending the night required advance approval by the parole department; so unless I was going to remain in the PIC’s custody a financial commitment was required. If one views the expense of housing and lodging in urban America as being inversely proportional to incidents of drug trafficking and other crime, any parolee in my situation faces additional peril incident to their release. Accordingly, just being in an area of criminal activity for the parolee seems every bit the threat that actual participation in criminal activity will be to your average citizen, because the burdens of proof for parole violations eliminate the traditional notion that an accused person is innocent until proven guilty.

Nevertheless, simple good fortune enabled me to find a hotel within a particular zip code pre-approved by the parole department that I could pay for with the assistance of a family member. Likewise, I was able to find an environment free of criminal activity and other threats to my successful re-entry. To understand just how fortunate and remarkable my situation was, consider the following. By using a day-to-day comparison, the financial cost for me to stay at a decent hotel was about the same as what my spouse and I currently spend on our housing. The hotel payment had to be made in advance, and currently my spouse and I both hold graduate degrees, have entered professions, and have dedicated many years towards establishing a household and budget. Therefore, it is inconceivable that the average unemployed parolee would have the resources to start re-entry in a decent sheltered environment unless provided considerable financial assistance. In reality most parolees are lucky if they leave prison with $50, a bus ticket and the clothes on their back. See State Policies and Procedures Regarding “Gate Money” (Wilson 2007).

I was fortunate enough to have relatives of financial means assisting me in this first phase. Therefore, I had a safe quiet place to begin my re-entry, and I could manage the day to day of this new experience without an added burden of the criminal environment often accompanying the PIC and Prisoner Re-entry Industry (“PRI”). I lived this way for several weeks while every day hoping that my plan for interstate transfer would be approved. I look back with gratitude for the remarkable private resources available to me at this crucial time. Additionally, I was fortunate enough to have some friends and relatives in the area I could call upon despite my reluctance to burden the few resources I still had, and the fact that after six and a half years of “hard time” I was probably not the most welcome house guest. Therefore, when the financial burden of trying to live independently in a safe environment became too great, I still had much more available to me than the nominal support the PIC and PRI would have offered.

Consequently, I had an opportunity to stay with relatives for several more weeks, and because I was no longer burdened by the expense of housing I made progress towards productive activities such as renewing my Commercial Driver’s License and researching temporary employment. My eventual success was also made possible by the generous use of a relative’s car while conducting the various activities of driver training, testing, and employment contacts. Likewise my initial hotel stay, that provided a safe initial transition, would have been impossible without transportation to that relatively isolated location.

Having made it through my first several weeks on parole and thus far beating the odds of a parole violation, I finally received notice that my interstate transfer was approved and I could begin my long term parole plan. Again I had exceptional factors on my side to level the playing field established by the PIC and PRI. For example, the same day my transfer was approved my grandfather purchased an airplane ticket for me. Had my travel been delayed by financial considerations, I might have found myself “homeless” again while trying to complete my transfer out of state. Perhaps more common to interstate parolees, I also might have been limited to cross country bus travel with its inherent risks. Many states give parolees a bus ticket in addition to “gate money” (Wilson, 2007). Any lawyer, law student, or academic who has taken a class in constitutional criminal procedure in the last decade should be familiar with the occurrence of drug intervention sweeps on cross country buses. It’s not hard to imagine that a parolee on a bus that was being investigated by a drug intervention squad would draw unwanted attention simply by being in an area under surveillance. Also, even after the drastic changes in airport security since September 11, 2001, the police mentality in airports seems less intrusive than the profiling, searches, and seizures among bus passengers that have been sanctioned by the United States Supreme Court. See U. S. v. Drayton, 536 U. S. 194 (2002). Therefore, the opportunity for air travel seems less risky than traveling by bus.

Not only was I able to travel the same day, but I also had a ride from the airport, a place to sleep that night, and a ride to the parole office I was transferring to the next morning. All of which seem remarkable for someone recently released from prison. Consequently, in my case being related to generous people with resources was crucial, because none of these resources would have been provided by the PIC, or PRI.

Establishing a permanent parole plan was only possible because my sister’s family was willing to share their home and my brother-in-law, a long time NRA member, was willing to remove guns from his home to satisfy the parole department’s requirements. Furthermore, everyone in the household was willing to waive their constitutional rights regarding searches and seizures, because the PIC demands the right to enter and search anytime as a control measure over parolees. In my case an entire family conceded these points in the interest of my success. To illustrate the sacrifice they made, one routine procedure was a surprise visit from my parole officer at dawn. Everyone in the house was woken up in the effort to verify that I slept where I said I would and to obtain a urine specimen for random drug testing. Fortunately no one, including my 3 and a half year old nephew, was too upset by this procedure. However, we were all fortunate enough to have our own bedrooms and were living in a serene enough environment that we could easily weather such intrusions. Nonetheless, it is easy to see how under different circumstances such an event could be traumatic to those unfamiliar with the incidents of prison life.

Additionally, I had a job provided by a family friend when I arrived. Significant because, even with my Commercial Driver’s License in hand, the PIC or PRI did not have alternative employment to offer me, and in fact approval of my interstate parole plan was probably dependent upon having a job. Ironically, the PIC could probably be given some credit for assisting my other goal of attending college. Specifically, a letter from my parole officer stating that I had been in prison for the previous six and a half years was sufficient proof to obtain Pell grants. Also, a legal ruling I learned about while in prison helped me establish residency for in-state tuition; so the grants were more than enough to pay for tuition, books, supplies and have a little left over to supplement my earnings for living expenses. However, credit to the PIC is partial at best because the challenges of registering and enrolling for school while trying to work and adjust were possible because of my unique position of attending a few college semesters before going to prison. This provided me a student ID number and a place in the system when I returned which eliminated much of the bureaucracy.

After receiving a couple of pay checks I realized how much minimum wage had increased over the years, and that I was earning less than I could be. Because my Class A Commercial Driver’s License gave me a marketable skill in a higher income bracket I knew other employment opportunities were available to me. Therefore, within months I was able to find another job paying, on an hourly basis, about 50 percent more than my first. I attribute this progress to the fact that I was now able to list recent experience other than six and a half years in prison on job applications. Within a year, commercial truck driving allowed me to find a permanent job earning a decent wage with a schedule that allowed me to pursue my long term academic goals.

By February 2003 (less than a year after my release) I had completed the credits for my Associate in Arts degree, I had taken the Law School Admission Test, and I was in the process of applying for law school. Thus proving that with the proper resources, support, and motivation successful re-entry would be possible. However, all the motivation in the world would have been meaningless without the support and resources to live, commute, aspire to bigger things and free up enough time and energy to pursue long term goals. I started law school in the fall of 2003. I was always grateful for the opportunity, even though working as a truck driver while attending law school is not an experience I recommend to others. In 2006 I took advantage of a progressive move to another school, and became a full time student from January 2007 until my graduation in December when I ranked 28th in a class of 92. In February 2008 I took my first bar exam, and after passing I went back to the state of my criminal conviction to take their bar exam which I passed as well. Ever since that time I have been advocating for my admission to practice law in both states. Additionally, a law school professor and Dean honored me with a year long post-graduate fellowship for the 2008 – 2009 academic year. Today I am back in the job market, and without a license to practice law still face rejection based upon my criminal record. However I know how fortunate I am considering where I came from, the unique opportunities that have been afforded to me, and the countless other individuals struggling to break the literal and figurative shackles of the PIC.

References

Court Opinion
U. S. v. Drayton, 536 U. S. 194 (2002).

Online document
Wilson, Kate, J. (2007). State Policies and Procedures Regarding “Gate Money.” A Report Prepared for California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. http://www.cdcr.ca.gov/Adult_Research_Branch/Research_Documents/Gate_Money_Oct_2007.pdf. Accessed 24 August 2009.