Would you hire somebody who just got out of federal prison? Not out of sympathy, not because you wanted to do a good deed, but because you believed that she could actually do the job?
The women this report follows are trying to have that conversation before they're even released. 14 women in federal custody attended a job fair in St. Louis, meeting potential employers and preparing for life outside.
The Bureau of Prisons has two programs that earn First Step Act time credits for early release:
- The mock job fair
- The resume writing/interview skills course
And the problem they're preparing for is one I know personally. I completed these same programs while at FMC Fort Worth. When I got out, I wanted to work. I had education, I had experience, and I still found myself standing at the DMV unable to pay $24 for the identification I needed just to move forward. $24. That's the part of starting over you don't see in the movie, where the prison gate opens and everybody hugs.
I'm Brad Aragon. This is the Federal Toolbox, and today we're looking at what a second chance actually requires after somebody says you can have one.
I've done a lot of interviews. I've been on that side of the table, so for me it was a whole new change to be the interviewee. It's really been a learning experience — a great one, you know, because I was beating myself up. Job fairs, again, I'm used to being on that side, talking to people and doing interviews. So it's been an eye-opening experience. But yet to know it's okay, and it's going to be... to wear the clothes again, I mean that I haven't worn in years, just feels wonderful. And to know it's a fresh start.
What Happens After the Introductions?
I'll give the Bureau credit for bringing employers into this conversation before release day. That makes sense to me. I criticize the system on this channel sometimes, but I'm not going to dismiss something useful just because the BOP is doing it. The purpose of this event was to let these women show potential employers the skills they had developed inside and begin making connections they could use outside.
My question is what happens after the introductions?
- Does somebody follow up?
- Is there an actual opening?
- Can the person get to that job?
- Does the opportunity survive the opprobation about her record?
That's the difference between attending an event and having somewhere to report on Monday morning. Let's continue.
So, I've never worn a suit before. I have never actually been to a job fair, and it's taught me a lot of mistakes that I've made in the past not to make those mistakes again. So it sets me up for success, and it actually makes me not define myself for my crimes that I've committed, but actually gives me hope. I'm not hopeless anymore. I have a future, and I can go out there and I can do better.
That $24 ID Fee
Let me explain that $24. When I left FMC Fort Worth, they gave me $300 in gate money on a prepaid card. At the halfway house, I needed ID. Getting that meant getting my documents together, getting permission to go, and taking the bus to the DMV. I finally got there and I couldn't pay the fee. I had to call my brother for help while I was standing in line.
I'm not telling you that to make you feel sorry for me; my choices put me in that position. I'm telling you because "go get a job" sounds like one task. For me, it was a series of tasks, and I couldn't skip any of them:
- Documents
- ID
- Transportation
- Approval from the halfway house
- Then the actual job search
I was willing to work; I still needed help getting to the point where I could. Keep that practical side of starting over in mind as you watch these next interviews.
Woman #1: I did ask if they hire felons, and that was like the number one fear that I had was asking that question, because I was afraid of the negative response that I might get. But on the flip side, I got a really positive response. So it just showed me that that doesn't define me and hold me back from potential employment.
Woman #2: Well, coming in here and just realizing that there are people that will hire a felon, that's huge. I feel great in normal clothes again, and it's really boosted my self-esteem a lot.
My Own Break: A Phone Call to Charlie
What finally changed things for me was a phone call. I remembered that an old friend, Charlie Hunter, was practicing law in Houston. We hadn't spoken in 17 years. I called him and told him the truth: I had just gotten out of prison, I told him why I went there, and I told him I needed a job. We weren't on the phone five minutes before he hired me.
That doesn't make me an expert on how easy it is to find work after prison. It makes me somebody who had a connection and a friend willing to act on it. I don't get to leave that part out and pretend I did everything alone. That's why an opportunity to sit down with an employer matters to me. Not everybody has a Charlie to call.
This is great. I never thought I'd have the ability to seek employment while incarcerated for outside, but it's reminded me of what it is like outside when you get stuck in your mindset of being locked up. It reminds you of what you need to look forward to and what you need to be planning for, and it's just a great opportunity to do that and to stay focused on what's really important.
Getting Hired Wasn't the End of the Story
And getting hired wasn't the end of the story. My halfway house still had to approve the job. Then I had to figure out the buses. I could leave at 7:30, get to work by 8:30, finish at 5:00, and be back by 6:00. I started out answering phones, two hours a day on the bus, wearing an ankle monitor, and watching the clock.
Years earlier, I used to say I would never work a 9-to-5 job; I said it like I was above it. Then there I was, grateful to have one. The work wasn't glamorous, but somebody expected me to show up. I could earn money without hiding anything. I could finish a day knowing I had done what I said I would do. That was a much bigger change than a job title.
I would tell myself or anybody else to not give up, to trust the process, to ask questions, be involved as much as they can. Know that there is a better way of life than the way that we have been living, and that success begins from within.
Coming Home to the People Who Carried More
There's another reason this belongs on the Federal Toolbox. Coming home wasn't just about what I needed; it was about the people who had already carried more than their share. Ashley took care of our daughter while I was gone. When I got out, she helped me with work clothes and the things I needed. Later, she gave me a room in her house. Being released didn't entitle me to keep leaning on her indefinitely. I needed to become dependable. Not give another speech about how everything would be different — actually become different in the ordinary way that she could see: getting to work, contributing, keeping my word. That's what I think about when we talk about preparing somebody to come home. The goal shouldn't stop at getting through the gate.
That I have a lot more to offer, and this experience of incarceration doesn't define me. I made a bad choice; I'm not a bad person. And so it has also shown me how to talk about my incarceration in a positive light, shown me what skills I do have to offer, for me to talk about them in a good way as well, and to be able to sell myself and put myself out there in a positive way.
What a Second Chance Actually Requires
I'm not going to turn a job fair video into proof that everything worked out. Meeting an employer is not the same as getting hired, and getting hired is not the same as keeping the job. But I do think this is a conversation worth having. We spend a lot of time on this channel talking about sentences, prison conditions, halfway houses, and supervised release. Those things matter. So does what somebody's actually going to do with the life they're trying to rebuild.
For me, rebuilding wasn't a dramatic comeback. It was answering phones, catching buses, accepting help, and doing enough useful work that somebody could trust me with more responsibility. And no, I'm not asking employers to ignore someone's criminal history. Ask the questions, consider the job, look at what the person has done since. But there's a difference between taking a record seriously and deciding there's nothing else worth knowing about the person.
So let me come back to the question we started with: would you give an applicant with a felony conviction an interview, and what would you need to see before you felt comfortable hiring that person?
Tell me in the comments and subscribe to the Federal Toolbox for the part of the story that doesn't end at sentencing or at the prison gate. Charlie gave me an opportunity; he didn't owe me one. Making sure he didn't regret it became my responsibility.