Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Never-Ending Cycle

The persons and conversations in this story are ficticious. The statistics are not.

"Of course. I've been clean for...two months now." Jon said.

"Really?" asked his mentor.

"Yep. I'm done with it. I'm done." Jon smiles as he says this. He hates himself inside for lying to this guy. But that's all he knows to do. Lie. When people think you are doing good, you lie so they'll keep thinking it he tells himself.

Man, I wish he'd quit staring at me like that. I wonder if he knows I'm lying. I wonder...Nah. He doesn't know. He can't know. I haven't failed a piss test. My P.O. doesn't know. So nobody knows. Why is he staring at me still? What's he thinking? Did my wife tell him? Man! I'll... No. She didn't say anything. You're just being paranoid, Jon. Relax. He doesn't know. Just calm...

"Can you pee clean? Right now? If they made you pee, could you pee clean?" his mentor asks.

Damn! Leave this alone! "Yeah. I can. I swear. I haven't touched the stuff." Jon replies as his voice goes up an octave.

"Okay. Okay. It's just that you haven't called in a month. You haven't been to meetings. You haven't returned my calls. I know that when you disappear like that there's something's up. I'm just worried about you. You know you can't go back again. You'll lose your job. Your wife might leave you. Your kids, man, how many times do they have to see you go away?" the mentor says, knowing he's been lied to.

There's a long pause as Jon looks at anything but his mentor's face. They've been meeting like this off and on for nearly a year. Jon's been in and out of prison since he was 17. He's been addicted to pot, meth, crack, and alcohol since he was 15. He has two boys who have only seen him 18 months out of their short four and six years on this earth. He joined the group eleven months ago, and had every intention of changing his life. He wanted things to be like they were many long years ago. He loved God and wanted to be close to him again. He was sorry for not being there for his wife and kids. He was tired of spending his life behind bars. Deep in his heart, he still wants to change, but he just can't seem to get over the depression and the anger. His father beat him as a young boy. He was an alcoholic and never paid attention to Jon unless he was drunk and beating on him. Jon raised himself and his siblings because his mother had to work two jobs to support his dad's drinking. Deep down he hates him, although he won't admit it. Deep down he hates himself, too. There is a part of him that yearns for something better.

But he's a liar; a manipulator. People with substance abuse problems are often the best manipulators. They lie to get what they need. But it's more than just lying. It's discovering what the other person wants to hear, then exploiting it. They'll say all the right things. They'll give "Sunday school" answers to just about every question. "Sure, I'm a Christian. I read my Bible everyday. No, I don't smoke it anymore. Yes, I've changed my ways. It's not the same as it used to be. No, the money is for a bill, not for anything else." It's not their fault. Chemical dependency is a disease, not a choice.

The fact is they want those statements to be true. They want to change. Their tears and their frustrations tell you that. They are people, just like you and me, with emotions and wants and needs. They are disappointed with themselves and long for something new. But the odds are against them. An estimated 50% of drug users relapse in an average of 6 weeks after a 30 to 90 day treatment program (1). Daily stressors, or "hassles" play the biggest role in relapse. Hassles are irritating, frustrating demands that come with daily transactions with the environment (2). With a parolee those hassles can be increased ten-fold. Unemployment, lack of money, the inability to provide for the family, dealing with the probation officer, trying to pay the fines, go to the classes, arguments at home or at work, all the while trying to keep clean--these things take their toll.

Jon isn't alone. Over two-thirds of jail inmates reported symptoms of substance abuse the year prior to their arrest and conviction (3).

As Jon rides in the Department of Corrections bus, shackled and chained to the floor, he wished it would have worked this time. He wished he could go back just a few months and make a better decision. Well, one thing is for certain. He'll clean up over the next five years in the penitentiary. But who will be there for him when he gets out? Can he stay clean this time? Maybe, maybe not.


(1) Research Monograph Series 72. National Institute on Drug Abuse.
(3) Special Dependence, Abuse, and Treatment of Jail Inmates, 2002. Bureau of Justice Statistics. U.S. Department of Justice.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

The Forgotten 7.4 Million

     Here are some interesting statitics:  Over 9 million people are being held in prison or jail world-wide, and 32.2% of them are in the United States (1).  There are more than 2.3 million people in state or federal prisons or local jails (2).  More than 5.1 million people are on probation or parole (3).  There are just over 304 million people living in the U.S. (4).  That means 1 in 41 Americans are in prison, jail, or on probation or parole.  Over 95% of all state prisoners will be released at some point, with 80% going on parole supervision (5).  Once locked up, prisoners don't just stay there.  Nearly 700,000 are released back into society every year!  What do we do with them?  Welcome them back?  Turn them away?  Let's take a look.
  Parolees are denied employment.  In 2007, nearly half of all people on parole in New York, for example, were unemployed (6).  Parolees are denied insurance.  Most insurance companies will not issue new policies to anyone on probation or parole.  I know this personally.  I was denied home owner's insurance in 2007 by a Farmer's Insurance agent over the phone.  He asked if anyone in my household was a felon, and when I answered that I was he promptly told me his company's policy prohibited him from going any further with the application.  Parolees are denied housing.  Most real estate companies will not rent to anyone with a felony record (7).  Parolees are denied food stamps.  In 2006, of the Federally sentenced offenders in Arkansas, 29.9% were drug offenders.  In 2007, of the 13,013 inmates under the Arkansas Department of Corrections, 2789 (21.4%) were in for drug charges (8).  Yet anyone in Arkansas (and 21 other states) with a drug charge cannot receive food stamps or TEA (Transitional Employment Assistance) benefits, while any other felon is eligible for these benefits (9).  So, offenders come out of prison and find it difficult to earn a living, find housing, get insurance coverage, food stamps or other assistance, and it's no wonder that over two-thirds of them are sent back to prison within three years (10).
  In 2006, a public opinion poll asked respondents what they thought were the major contributors to recidivism (the tendency to relapse into criminal behavior resulting in a return to jail or prison).  Nearly two in three respondents said that when people come out of prison they have no more life skills than they had when they entered prison (66%), and people returning to society from prison experience too many obstacles to living a crime-free life (57%) (11).  Yet, policies continue to exist that limit or even prohibit basic services and opportunities for felons.  We want them to successfully reenter society, but we want someone else to help them do so.  It's time the public got involved and pushed for changes in current laws and policies.  Seven hundred thousand people a year are going to be looking for a fresh start.  Let's help them find one.


(1) World Prison Population List, 6th edition.  King's College London.  International Centre for Prison Studies.
(2) Prison Statistics.  Bureau of Justice Statistics.  U.S. Department of Justice.
(3) Probation and Parole Statistics.  Bureau of Justice Statistics.  U.S. Department of Justice.
(5) Reentry Trends in the United States:  Releases from State Prisons.  Bureau of Justice Statistics.  U.S. Department of Justice.
(6) Offender Re-entry.  2007 Crimestat Update.  NYS Department of Corrections.
(7) Sample Tenant Screening Report.  American Apartment Owners Association.
(8) Profile of Drug Indicators:  State of Arkansas.  Drug Policy Information Clearinghouse.  Office of National Drug Control Policy. 
(10) Reentry Trends in the United States:  Recidivism.  Bureau of Justice Statistics.  U.S. Department of Justice.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Never a Dull Moment

     I'm a nice guy.  I mean my friends think I'm a really nice guy.  I get along with most everyone I meet.  I open doors for women; I help anyone who looks to be in need; I serve as a mentor to men on parole and probation.  I go to church.  I tithe.  I love my kids.
     In the past six years since my arrest and conviction, I have probably met a few hundred new people, and have become good friends with some of them.  But I lost ten times that many friends.
     Being a nice guy isn't enough.  When you tell people you are a felon, no matter how long you've known them or what kind of relationship you have with them, they become like sand in a gold pan.  Your story runs out the bottom taking most of them with it.  Only a few nuggets remain, and those are the people who can see past the crime.
     I'd like to change that.  There are tens of thousands of future felons out there, walking around amongst us.  Many of them are good people, living good lives.  They love their families, they are loyal to their friends.  They are good employees.  They believe in God, and may have even accepted his Grace and Christ's salvation.  And they will find themselves sitting in a jail cell or a courtroom or a lawyer's office or a family member's arms wondering what the heck went wrong.  "How did I get myself into this?" they will ask.  "What have I done?" they will scream at themselves in the mirror.
     Addictions, anger, depression, and tragedy consume people every day.  And many succumb to them, pushing aside their better judgements to ease the pain or feed the anger.  Then it happens.  Arrested, hand-cuffed, booked, jailed, bonded out, fired, divorced, convicted, sentenced, ostracized, ridiculed, shunned, ignored.  These are all consequences of the crime, and I'll be the first to admit that many of them are deserved.  If you can't do the time then don't do the crime.  That saying holds much truth.  Unfortunately it is never comprehended before the crime.  It is the quintessential "hindsight is 20/20" saying.  Because even if you hear it before you ever commit a crime, the weight of its reality is never realized until after you commit the crime.  The time referred to in that saying goes far beyond days, months or years behind bars.  You lose your family, friends, job, money, home, car, just about all material possessions you once had.  Not to mention your self-esteem, your reputation, your status, or your ability to find work, pay the fines, pay your debts, and pay your dues.
     So what do you do when you return to society and try to start over?  I shake my head as I try to answer that question.  I was once a part of "this side" of society.  I was the father and the husband and the friend who wanted to make sure my loved ones were protected from criminals.  To be honest it made me feel safe to see that someone was arrested for a crime.  It made me pull my loved ones a bit closer and thank God they were safe, and pray that they remained safe from all the bad elements out there.  It angered me that the prisons were overflowing with criminals, but I felt good that so many of them were behind bars.  "They deserve what they got." I would say.  Whether I was referring to someone serving time or coming out, if hard times fell upon them, they deserve what they got.  
     That's how we feel, deep down inside.  It makes us cringe to know that there are so many bad people out there, and that so many of them are coming out of prison and back into society.  Nearly 1,600 people are released from prison every day in the United States (1).  One in 31 U.S. adults are in prison, on probation or parole (2).  The United States has the highest per capita rate of incarceration of any other country in the world (3).  That's a lot of felons, folks.  Chances are good that you know a felon or have been directly affected by one.  Chances are good that someone you know will be convicted of a felony in the future.  Chances are good that you will have an opportunity to decide whether you will accept them back into your community.  And chances are good that you will choose not to.
     That's not a knock on anyone reading this, it's just the way it is.  But there's something to consider.  Those felons were people before their crimes.  They had friends and loved ones and problems and blessings.  And then they screwed up.  And once that label is affixed to their forehead, their past blessings are lost, and their admirable qualities fade in the shadow of their sins.  But after the crime, when they return to the society they let down, they are still people.  They still want friends.  They still want to be loved.  They want to belong.  They want to do right again.  They want things to be different.  They want a second chance.
     I'm on "the other side" of society now.  I'm a felon.  I have been called many things since my crime, and none too positive.  But I am changed.  I'm giving back.  I want friends, and I want to be loved again.  I stand on the opposite side of the window as you, and it is an undesirable place to be.  I can see you, but I cannot join you.
    There is never a dull moment here, although sometimes I wish for one.



(1) The Sentencing Project, "Prisoners Re-entering the Community".  www.sentencingproject.org