Working for a second chance Employers with jobs to fill may be more open to hiring ex-offenders
Once he got out of juvenile detention, Carl Schmidt frequently heard employers promise to call him back when he sent out job applications he hoped would turn his life around.
But after applying to roughly 50 jobs, Mr. Schmidt, 20, became accustomed to closed doors instead of interview offers. He had a rough idea why.
“Whenever you get a record, you’re putting a big block on your back,” Mr. Schmidt said. “It’s way harder to find work. There are a whole bunch of jobs, but they’re going to look at the people without a record first — experience or not.”
For years, people who have served prison sentences have struggled to attain one of the most basic tickets to restoring a sense of discipline, work ethic and self-esteem: a job.
A confluence of factors — including shifting societal attitudes and a low unemployment rate — could be changing that. As the Pittsburgh-area unemployment rate hovers near 4 percent, there’s hope that employers will increasingly view those with certain criminal charges as an untapped pool of labor.
A wave of retirements and a strengthening economy could open up more jobs to those with records. Further, the state has taken steps to help people clear their criminal records and obtain occupational licenses.
It’s a moment that nonprofits pushing for reform have long waited for as they work to help connect ex-offenders with housing, transportation and other services essential to getting back on their feet.
Still, advocates and some of those who’ve done time are skeptical that things will really change.
It takes a village
On a wet, humid morning in June, hundreds of people packed into the Trinity Lutheran Church on the North Side.
They stopped by tables staffed by representatives of 35 companies, schools, government agencies, nonprofits and trade unions that displayed brochures, business cards and job applications.
The job fair was organized by Pittsburgh Community Services Inc., a group that fights poverty in the Pittsburgh region.
“It sure takes a village,” remarked Bill Freed, the organization’s workforce development coordinator. “It’s all about knowing yourself, knowing the market and making the match. With an ex-offender, it just makes the calculus exponential and multiplied by several dozen.”
This was the 13th annual fair sponsored by the group, and according to the event’s organizers, each year has seen an increase in the number of participating employers.
At the fair, Amazon was looking for distribution workers. Giant Eagle was looking for
grocery store associates. PJ Dick, Trumbull and Lindy Paving were looking for construction crews. South Hills Movers was looking for people to lift and haul.
First National Bank was helping people open bank accounts, and the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation was helping people get their driver’s licenses renewed.
At one table was seated Robert Doyle, a human resources representative for United Parcel Service. He was facing a “huge hiring spree” for package handlers at the company’s distribution facility in Crafton.
Package handlers, an entry-level position starting at $10.35 an hour, do not require a driver’s license. The positions tend to be subject to high turnover as people move on to different roles.
“I need to hire two dozen people in the next month and a half,” Mr. Doyle said. “We’re getting people … who, because of a mistake they made in the past, it’s tough for them to find another position. It’s a good opportunity to start fresh and get some work experience.”
A similar motive drove the construction trades recruiting. Those operators have seen enormous demand for laborers in recent years amid a regional building boom.
A cycle of crime
Studies have shown that people with criminal records facesteep odds when released, both in finding work and avoidingcriminal activity.
In a nine-year study tracking prisoner recidivism, the Bureau of Justice Statistics found 44 percent of the sample group was arrested within the first year.
Only 5 percent of the group rearrested in the first year wasn’t arrested again after the first year, suggesting it’s easier to return to crime than it is to stay away from it.
“I come from this population, and [I see] how ex-offenders come across more doors that have been shut than open,” said Taili Thompson, an Allegheny County violence prevention coordinator. “It comes to the point that an individual feels he doesn’t have any opportunities — or it’s pointless — and ends up back inside.”
Mr. Thompson, who has a criminal history, oversees the county health department’s outreach program that helps community members grapple with homiciderelated traumas.
The campaign supports victims forgiving perpetrators to help communities heal, which he argues is key for ex-offenders because of society’s distrust in their ability to change.
“If I were to apply for employment, I know I would have to answer a series of questions related to my criminal history,” he said. “To me, that puts ex-offenders at a disadvantage [because] it puts what they did 16 years ago ahead of what they’ve done for the last 15.”
According to a 2016 policy brief released by the National Employment Law Project, the unemployment rate for ex-offenders hovers between 60 and 75 percent in their first year of being released.
In a similar vein, Brookings Institution researchers found that four years after being released, just under half of its ex-offender sample had no reported earnings. For those that did, most were earning less than the federal minimum wage.
So, even if ex-offenders are able to find jobs within the first year of their release, these numbers suggest that sometimes their wages can’t support a living — further complicating the process of reintegration.
Butjust being employed is a start.
“A job gets your foot in the door,” said Becky Ludwig, vice president of program development at Renewal Inc, a nonprofit that provides job training and life skills, among other services.
With more than 20 years of experience, she’s learned that the barriers ex-offenders face are interconnected. Getting a job isn’t the whole picture.
Finding a home is a separate issue, just as treating substance abuse is, or learning how to be part of a family again, she noted.
“A lot of them have a variety of needs that have to be addressed,” said Jeffrey Shook, an associate professor at the University of Pittsburgh who has a doctorate in social work and sociology. “It’s more complicated than getting an individual a job.”
“You have to work, too”
Mr. Schmidt graduated from the Trade Institute of Pittsburgh on Aug. 2.
He plans to use his masonry skills for a career in construction. He found the Trade Institute in Homewood after cycling through different programs following a six-month sentence in juvenile detention on charges of drug possession and assault, among others.
Trade Institute was founded in 2009 by Steve Shelton, who wanted to address a gap he saw in the amount of workers in the construction industry while providing training opportunities for those who may not otherwise have been able to find work.
Mr. Schmidt doubts there are enough resources like that out there for ex-offenders to use, although he’s hopeful that things are changing.
With more public awareness, “Someone may wake up and treat us like everybody else,” he said.
Jacob Wilkes, 28, felt similarly, after graduating from the Trade Institute two years ago.
Mr. Wilkes, who served time for a variety of drug and firearms-related convictions, called the Trade Institute the day he was released, following the advice of a friend — a fellow felon — who saw potential in him.
“I was just fed up,” Mr. Wilkes said. “Tired of leaving my kids behind, tired of losing everything that I had out here, starting from scratch [when] getting back out. Tired of putting my family throughpain and suffering.”
Two months later his masonry skills landed him a roofing job. Now he’s working at a building and design company, hoping to start a gutter-cleaning service next year.
He’s grateful for how the program prepared him for and kept him in the job market, but he remains skeptical of employer mindsets.
He questions whether exoffenders are receiving enough help in finding work.
“It doesn’t make you a monster if you have a felony,” he said. “You have bills just like the next person. You have family just like the next person. You have to work, too ... Just because you made a bad decision in the past, employers shouldn’t define you by what a black and white paper says.”
A path that works
Meanwhile, legislative reform may be a change that sticks.
In June, Gov. Tom Wolf signed the Clean Slate Act to allow someone to petition to have a record sealed if that person has been convictionfree for 10 years and has paid all court-ordered fees for an offense that resulted in a year or more of jail.
“In Pennsylvania, the clean slate legislation is a step in the right direction,” said Tracey McCants Lewis, an associate professor at Duquesne School of Law. “This is what needs to be done policy wise to assist individuals to place them back in society.”
Ms. Lewis coordinates a pro bono program under the Civil Rights Clinic, providing assistance with expungement andpardon applications.
Expungements — which typically take six to 12 months — clear withdrawn, dismissed or not-guilty charges. Pardons forgive committed crimes, but the process can take up to four years.
She said the clinic regularly comes across people “who just want to work” but are haunted by their pasts while facing filing fees — incurred by the application itself, obtaining background checks or other credentials — without a steady source of income.
Mr. Wolf also signed off on reforms to the state’s occupational license system, making it easier to obtain a license in the industries that require them.
Getting an esthetician’s license aided Sharon Benyo, who served prison time for drunk driving, disorderly conduct and other charges related to substance abuse.
After getting out, what kept her focused was eyelashes — cleaning, gluing and attaching them onto clients.
Because every human eye has 120 to 200 lashes, each appointment takes Ms. Benyo, 44, two hours to finish. It’s tedious work, but she’s proud to do it.
To apply for an esthetician’s license, she had to send the state licensing board documents certifying her sobriety, her commitment to community service and multiple letters of recommendation, and she had to pass a written exam.
The license, which arrived last week, allows her to expand her current services to skin care and build up her 50-person clientele. She plans to open a spa in Monaca.
“I didn’t want to be at McDonald’s,” she said. “I strive for more. I don’t want to be average [because] average people do average things.”