A wrong turn then, a leader now, but not without a struggle
As a kid, growing up in an impoverished area in Florida’s capital city, I never thought my environment would determine my life as an adult. Despite losing my mother to drugs and having a father who was in and out of prison for various offenses, I promised my terminally-ill grandmother I would be different. I wouldn’t let my parents’ weaknesses become my own. I would break the cycle that so many impoverished children eventually realize is their life’s harsh fate.
Without any guidance, I learned that this fate is just about inevitable. As I got older, I could see it everywhere around me, and there was no escape.
At the age of 18, I was charged with two felony counts of burglary. No longer a child, I was now a first offender in the eyes of the court and, it didn’t matter. There were no options for a lesser offense. I agreed to a plea deal to stay out of prison. It was my only choice.
After completing three years of probation and essentially paying my debt to society, another harsh reality set in. The American Dream that we are all taught to strive for seemed like a mirage.
I struggled to find a job, as few companies will even consider an applicant who’s
HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE labeled as a felon. I constantly worried about my next meal, financial security, and finding a place to live. I became deeply depressed, contemplated suicide daily and isolated myself from loved ones. I felt like a slave to the criminal-justice system; and being labeled a felon was my scarlet letter. The three years I served on probation were the shackles around my wrists and ankles. I realized that finding the key to unlock those chains would become an endless pursuit.
Realizing I did not want to dwell on my past mistake, I enrolled at the University of Central Florida, majoring in sports management. As a student, though, I struggled to find an apartment that was “felon-friendly.” Based on the lack of resources available for felons, it resulted in my sleeping on the floor of a friend’s apartment. Oftentimes, I stayed in the campus library just to have somewhere comfortable to rest during the day. I struggled seeking employment, and with no financial support, I had to rely heavily on Pell Grants and unwanted loans.
Despite my obstacles, I managed to graduate in the fall of 2013 and became the first male in my immediate family to graduate from college.
After years of struggling to find a job, I was given the chance to work at the Department of Juvenile Justice as a probation officer. DJJ created an exemption process, which allows individuals with nonviolent felonies, who have bachelor’s degrees, an opportunity for employment.
My job gave me a chance to familiarize myself with high crime areas in Orlando, more specifically Pine Hills. I met children who grew up like I did. They were provided with little resources, surrounded by poverty and were already considered “at-risk.” These similarities allowed me to create meaningful relationships and become a positive influence in their lives.
This experience made me realize that those who have been in the criminaljustice system are better equipped to lead the justice-reform movement. Here’s what I’ve learned: More alternatives are needed for first-time offenders, such as preventative programs geared toward teenagers, and nonviolent felonies should be expunged once the required sentence is successfully served.
These reforms would bring hope, which would strengthen our communities and truly make a change for the better.