by Hill Harper
Sincerely,
Kevin Hagan
REENTRY
LETTER 37
A Little Help from My Friends
You get these ideas that, well, ain’t nobody going to give me a chance because of my criminal background and my criminal record. It upsets you and it puts you in a bad place in your mind, and you get to thinking, maybe I should do this, or maybe I could pick up a bag and start working at it again. If you try to do it by yourself with a background like mine, it’s depressing. It’s not good, and you’ve got to take a lot of no’s. But, if you can get networking with a group of people, whether it be churches, organizations that offer reentry programs, you’ve got a base of people that’s trying to work at the same goal, trying to help you. So, that would be a better shot.
—Frank (age at release: forty-four)
Hey, Brotha,
I’m up in Colorado visiting my mom. She lives up here in the mountains and man, is it beautiful. Aspen trees and snow everywhere. I’ll be back a week before you get out, though. It’s warm and toasty by the fire in the lodge here, but outside, it’s blustery and heavily snowing. I’ve been trying to get the energy to get off the comfortable couch in the lodge, throw on some snowshoes, and hike up Independence Pass. I need to get the exercise I planned on. Instead, I keep sitting here with my eyes moving back and forth between that cozy fire and the door leading outside.
It’s causing some musings about what a door can symbolize in a person’s life. What it reminds me of the most is the fact that you’ll need some doors out there in the world, and some passageways leading in and out of them. You’ll need to get more focused than you’ve ever been in your life on creating strategies and resources for a job search and working up some ideas for setting up a living situation. Have you planned on how you will handle the job prospects that will inevitably come? I know you’ll be at the halfway house for a maximum of three months—less if you find a job more quickly. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be blueprinting and acting on that blueprint right now.
If I sound like I’m kind of in a shitty mood, I’m gonna admit that part of the reason is because I really hated something you were joking about during out last phone call. Unless you weren’t kidding, and that would be ten times worse. Your homie Benny doesn’t seem like the kind of connection who’s gonna be very much help to you on the outside. As a matter of fact, hearing about his MO gave me a sick feeling in my stomach.
DEFYING ALL ODDS
It must have just been a bad joke on your part. People do that when they’re tense or worried about stuff. You know, you made that remark just as I was about to tell you about much better kinds of connections you can set up for the outside.
When I left to see my mom, I knew time was wastin’ and there was a lot to do before you got out. I also realized that so many of the services you need are locally based. Sure, I could have tried looking them up on the Internet until I finally found one in your community. But that didn’t seem to be the best use of time in helping you at this point. I’m not going to do any finger-pointing, but I should mention that we’re in such a hurry now partly because you’ve been dragging your feet half the time.
So I put together a pretty daring plan. It came to me when I was reading an article in The Christian Science Monitor about Catherine Rohr, an ex–venture capitalist who founded a nonprofit group called Defy Ventures.1 They run a heavy-duty internship program to help ex-cons succeed as income earners, fathers, and even entrepreneurs and role models in their communities. She’s a real game-changer. Belief was crucial to bringing Defy together.
Well, Rohr and her banker and fund-managing buddies managed to raise eight hundred grand and she kicked in sixty thousand of her own bucks to pay the $15,000 annual tuition for these ex-cons, although the article I read in the Monitor pointed out that even such a large amount—fifteen grand—is only half the cost of keeping a guy in prison.2 We live in a crazy world, don’t we?
Anyway, what got my noggin ticking was reading that Defy thinks it’s obvious that a lot of skills you need on Wall Street—like risk-taking, creating networks of information, and managing money—are very similar to what drug dealers and gang members do on the street. Defy wants to educate and encourage them to define and channel those skills into something with a better future.
I know you’re not ready to immediately start your own business, but I want you to seriously consider being an entrepreneur. I could absolutely see you running your own businesses—being your own boss. Not beholden to others’ whims about hiring, firing, and promotions. But to do it successfully will take more education, planning, focus, and practice than you’ve ever had to exhibit in your life. Are you willing to make that commitment? If so, like all things, let’s begin with the educational phase.
I contacted four well-known organizations that help newly released people avoid recidivism and get on with their lives and talked to them about you. I networked through each organization by asking the guy I was talking to who in the organization he or she thought I should contact next about this or that. It took a little digging, but I made contact with a dozen or so people in all four of those groups via e-mail or phone.
I want you to have the opportunity to learn from professionals who are intimately familiar with postrelease problems and strategies.
So, get ready for some heavy-duty postrelease counseling and information, man. One of the ladies told me that even though your state isn’t in her sphere of activity, she knows a lot about what’s going on there, too. But as soon as you get access to e-mail and a phone, I need you to take over and reach out to all of them directly. This also counts as a way to hone your own interpersonal skills and friendly social manner. They already know what they need to know about you, but they also don’t know quite what to expect. Knock their socks off with your politeness, communication skills, positive attitude, and gentle manner. This is who you’ll be reaching out to:
1.Ryan Holly, manager of marketing and recruiting from Defy Ventures. You already know who they are.
2.A publicist from the Delancey Street Foundation. I believe on the phone you said that you know something about them, too. They’re based in San Francisco but have six other locations nationwide. One of them is in your state but farther than fifty miles from your town. Not that much farther, though. It would be so good if you could get your parole transferred nearer and start your life outside with them, ’cause they’re legendary. For forty years they’ve been helping ex-cons with job-skill training in the context of a residency—in other words, they also provide a place to live.
3.An employment counselor from the Safer Foundation. In their own words, “For more than 40 years, Safer Foundation’s mission has focused on reducing recidivism by supporting, through a full spectrum of services, the efforts of people with criminal records to become employed, law-abiding members of the community.” They’re located in Chicago. With four thousand job starts in 2011, the Safer Foundation saved the state 152 million dollars. The clients who go to them have a recidivism rate of only 13 percent, whereas the state’s recidivism rate is 52 percent.
4.And finally, a manager from the Prison Entrepreneurship Program (PEP), which links people in prison to business and academic talent by using an MBA-level curriculum and fostering mentor relationships. I know they’re good, because that’s where Catherine Rohr first cut her teeth before she did Defy. In fact, she started PEP. What’s more, they can boast 100 percent employment within ninety days, and their recidivism rate is less than 5 percent.
JOB HUNT
Remember Nick Higgins? He’s the “correctional services librarian” from the New York Public Library who has been doing so much work to help prisoners. He and a whole bunch of others put together a guide for ex-cons called The Job Search3 and bundled it with their other publication Connections, which is “a guide for formerly incarcerated people.”4 It costs $15 by mail, but you can see it free at www.nypl.org/hel
p/community-outreach/correctional-services-program. Lots of it’s relevant wherever you are. I love their twenty or so pages on finding a job, because they’re packed with practical information that can help you immediately.
One of the coolest resources mentioned in Nick’s book is called Huntsy (Huntsy.com), an organizational tool for job hunters. It’s an extension you can add really easily to your Internet browser, and then it will guide you step by step once you tell it what job you’re looking for. You can even use it to create a timeline of tasks to manage your “job hunt work flow,” as they call it. The thing is so simple, but it does so much. It keeps track of interviews you schedule, lets you save more than one version of your résumé, helps you find new contacts, and keeps you in the know about the ones you already have.
First go to a site like CareerBuilder.com or one of the many other job-hunting sites. When you find something you like, you can click on a button on your browser and paste the page’s URL into a Huntsy box that comes up. Once you do that, it adds the job to your search folder, which can get bigger and bigger.
I picked up other job-search tips on Huntsy, too. Look for and apply to new jobs every day if you can, and put them in your folder. Add lists of to-dos based on your job search, as well as timed reminders and stuff like that. Keep your search organized and on schedule.
Don’t forget to become involved with social networks, either, especially Facebook and LinkedIn. Network with the people there for leads. Huntsy will automatically check them for you if you want. And, remember, it’s always easiest to get help from people when you offer help to them as well. If someone is helpful to you, or even if they’re not, find out what you may be able to do to help them.
Here’s another tip. If you want to search a lot of job sites at the same time, you don’t necessarily have to go to each site. Just go to Indeed.com. You type in the job you’re looking for and where, and it automatically searches for it on a whole bunch of sites at once.
RÉSUMÉS
I almost forgot to talk about good ol’ résumés. Yours will need to look and sound as good as you really are, because, to a potential employer, it’s a written representation of your skills and even your character. I won’t say you’re not at a disadvantage. They’ve done controlled studies about the difference in looking for a job with and without a prison record, and there’s a big difference between the two situations. However, as we discussed, we know that going in, so we can plan for those obstacles.
One of the strategies you’ll have to learn is how to take the spotlight off the fact that you were incarcerated, without anyone being able to say that you’re lying on your résumé. There’s a whole load of information in The Job Search about that, too. As it says about the incarceration issue, “Show that while in prison, you’ve done constructive things with your time, not just ‘done’ time. Mention any educational achievements, for example, or work experience you’ve had while incarcerated. If you’ve been involved in any organized prison activities or programs, list them. They help indicate to a prospective employer what you may have experienced while away in terms of personal growth and development.”
That’s good, sound advice. I’m having my office photocopy that part of the booklet for you. When you know where you are on the outside, I’ll have them send it to you. But at the end of the day, the best way to take the spotlight off your former incarceration is your attitude, presentation, preparedness, and patience.
Okay, my man. I don’t want all this to make you anxious. I’m just excited you’re getting out soon! I know you will make it. Make sure I hear from you as soon as you get out. Just know that I’m behind you and backing you up at every moment.
Much love,
Hill
LIBERATION
P.S. Since I mentioned Ms. Catherine Rohr from Defy Ventures, which trains former prisoners to run their own businesses, I wanted to include a letter from her addressed to you, below.
Dear Brother,
Most people I’ve met in prison dream of one day starting a business. It doesn’t need to be just a dream. I’m the founder and CEO of Defy Ventures, a New York City–based nonprofit that equips men and women with criminal histories to build profitable, sustainable (and legal!) businesses. When I got started in this work nine years ago, people told me I was crazy to attempt it. One prison ministry “veteran” said to me, “These guys in prison aren’t even capable of writing home to their mamas.” His comment added extra fuel for me to get out there and disprove the stereotypes. We’re showing the world that individuals with criminal histories absolutely can defy the odds, transform their lives, and become home-run entrepreneurs, employers, parents, and community leaders.
I know what it takes to succeed as an entrepreneur, and I’ve seen firsthand that many people with felonies have exactly the skills it takes to run successful businesses. When you get out of prison, pursuing entrepreneurship is a great option. Unlike a potential employer when you apply for a job, it’s unlikely that your customers will ask you if you have a felony. In most industries, you won’t face discrimination for your past. No one can take away your right to start a business and achieve the American dream.
There are a lot of misconceptions about starting a business. For example, sometimes people think you have to have a lot of money to launch a business. Not true: Nearly every single one of the one hundred business started by Defy grads was launched on $500 or less in start-up capital.
Another myth: You might think that because you’ve never had a “normal job” on your résumé that you’re lacking the right experience to start a business. Now, having worked with more than one thousand people who were in prison or were formerly incarcerated, I can say with confidence that this definitely isn’t true. If you’ve led a drug ring or gang or participated in other criminal activity, you likely have many of the characteristics needed to succeed as an entrepreneur: charisma that can turn a no into a yes, scrappiness and resilience, a profit mentality, the willingness to take calculated risks, the ability to lead and manage others, and strong customer service and execution skills. By redirecting your skill set to a legal venture, you can still be your own boss and create a legacy for your family and loved ones that you’re proud of—and you’ll no longer have your life on the line or have another prison sentence hanging over your head.
You, too, can defy the odds. You can start building your entrepreneurial dreams now by getting your hands on Steve Mariotti’s book Entrepreneurship and Small Business Management, as well as Inc. magazine and Entrepreneur magazine. I also recommend that you separate yourself from the crowds in prison. Work on building your character and taking the high road in the face of conflict.
My main advice to you, though, is to never quit on yourself. Many people who get out of prison and get shot down by ten potential employers just give up—not just on a legal job, but on life. The mark of successful entrepreneurs is that they don’t get paralyzed by the fear of failure, and when they do fail or face rejection, they create another possibility and keep trying until they find a solution. As someone who faced serious public failure several years ago and nearly gave up on her own life, I consider myself a seasoned expert in the “field of failure.” I know what it means to get knocked down and get back up—even when it feels impossible. I like to pretend that I’m a daddy longlegs spider—go ahead and cut my legs off; I’ll keep wiggling, somehow.
If you have that spirit about you, too, you ought to thrive in the pursuit of legal entrepreneurship. Go get it!
Catherine Rohr
Founder and CEO,
Defy Ventures
FROM A FREE MAN
From: [email protected]
Subject: What up?
Date: November 12, 2015, 11:51 PM
To: [email protected]
Hey, man, what’s up? Check it out. Got my own e-mail. How long since we talked? I think twice that first week I was out and staying at the fuck
ing halfway house. Then I ducked outta sight for a while. Not that I didn’t wanna be in touch, I was just too bushed. Hope you weren’t bugged out about it.
They wake you up at six A.M. like you’re still in jail or something. By eight every day you’re at NA for two hours. Then by ten, I would be pounding pavement with the list I made with that Huntsy app you told me about. Then back to the library for more job research, back home, etc. Yawn . . . Watch TV at the halfway with red eyes (not from weed, from weariness and fallout).
But that was only three times a week. The other two days of the work week, I still had to get up at six, and this time, after NA, go do that underpaid work at the garage they was still making me hang on to till I could move out of there. Well, I’m outta there! It ain’t exactly what I thought “freedom” was gonna be, but hell, it’s only been a month and a half, and I got me a job. I’m a stock boy at the supermarket, minimum wage and all. But I bet I can convince the manager to make me a cashier after a while, and they get $2 more per hour. He just has to get to trust me.
My room is wack. Sixth floor of a rooming house, a converted S.R.O. The dickhead across the hall is into heavy metal, and some nights I want to bust his door down and go in and let the dude catch the fade! But then—and this is probably thanks to you—this voice comes in and says, “Is it worth fucking everything up for that? Stick to your plan!” So far, I have. Oh, you probably wondering where I can be e-mailing you so late, ’cause the library obviously isn’t open. Remember that Raspberry Pi? One of the homies at the halfway gives me a keyboard he don’t want when he leaves. I was able to buy a mouse, and I rigged up a monitor from an old cell phone screen. It’s tiny and slow, but I got it! Oh yeah, the connection. Well, so happens I can pick up a free connection over here from this café cross the street, and they leave it on all the time. Anyway, this machine is slow for Internet shit, and I’d like to get me a real laptop. But it can wait.