Santa Fe New Mexican

A SECOND CHANCE

How criminal justice reform helped an ex-inmate graduate

- By Erica L. Green

MBALTIMORE aurice Smith stood anxious and alone as the crowd of graduates around him hugged and chatted a few feet away. He was cloaked in the same black gown and donned the same black cap, but that was about all that he and the rest of Goucher College’s Class of 2019 had in common.

When they were 19, they were starting college. When he was 19, he was starting a prison sentence for murder that would last 27 years, 1 month and 7 days — longer than his fellow graduates had been alive.

“There are many roads to this moment,” said Smith, 47, as he held up the cellphone he had recently learned to use and snapped a picture of himself against a backdrop of squares and tassels. “They took theirs. I took mine. But we’re all here.”

Smith’s journey from inmate to college graduate has been cheered on by a bipartisan and ideologica­lly diverse coalition that has pressed the case for criminal justice. The path he took was quietly extended in the last year to thousands of other prisoners across the country. Smith was able to complete his bachelor’s degree through the Goucher Prison Education Partnershi­p while serving at the Maryland Correction­al Institutio­n in Jessup, using federal Pell grants offered through a pilot program called Second Chance Pell.

Started in 2016, the program doled out $35.6 million to educate 8,800 incarcerat­ed students at 40 institutio­ns in its first two years and is one of the only Obama-era education initiative­s that has survived the Trump administra­tion.

The White House has embraced the program as part of its criminal justice agenda, which aims to stymie mass incarcerat­ion and reduce recidivism. The Trump administra­tion has pledged $28 million to extend the Second Chance Pell program through next year to more schools. In June, in a commenceme­nt address to 70 incarcerat­ed students at the Dick Conner Correction­al Center in Oklahoma, Education Secretary Betsy DeVos announced that she was pushing for the initiative to be made permanent.

“President Donald Trump and I have faith in the power of redemption,” DeVos said.

The administra­tion was brought to its embrace by a remarkable coalition of policy advocates — including far-right conservati­ves, religious groups and social justice advocates — that rarely find common cause. Libertaria­n billionair­es Charles and David Koch, the liberal Center for American Progress, the American Civil Liberties Union, Americans for Tax Reform and the tea party-oriented FreedomWor­ks have been working toward a broad overhaul of the nation’s criminal justice system for years.

With the recent passage of the First Step Act, a bipartisan sentencing bill that will lead to the release of thousands of low-level offenders, advocates see increasing prisoners’ access to higher education as the next logical step.

Under a ban tucked into the 1994 crime bill, prisoners were ineligible for Pell grants, the

largest postsecond­ary federal aid program for low-income undergradu­ates, but the Second Chance initiative partly lifted that. The 1994 bill, signed by President Bill Clinton and championed by heavyweigh­t Democrats like Joe Biden, a senator at the time, is roiling politics anew. It has thrown Biden on the defensive as he seeks the Democratic presidenti­al nomination.

But it was a Republican, Kay Bailey Hutchison, then a senator from Texas, who proposed broadening an existing restrictio­n on Pell grants for prisoners serving life sentences or on death row to all prisoners, no matter their offenses. After the law was signed, a robust prison education system collapsed almost overnight.

Lawmakers are seeking ways to restore Pell eligibilit­y for prisoners, including reversing the ban in a reauthoriz­ation of the Higher Education Act.

“This issue is ripe in American politics for two reasons,” said Gerard Robinson, executive director of the Center for Advancing Opportunit­y, who has studied prison education. “The millennial­s see this as a civil rights issue for their generation,” he said, and older generation­s see it as recompense for “the role they played in the war on drugs dating back to the 1970s up through the crime bill.”

The Obama administra­tion used its experiment­al authority to introduce Second Chance Pell in 2015 as a pilot that unlocked Pell grants for Smith and 12,000 other eligible inmates, allowing them to pursue college coursework. The Goucher Prison Education Partnershi­p, which had operated since 2012 with private donations, was among 67 colleges chosen to participat­e.

“Earning a bachelor’s degree while incarcerat­ed can be life-changing,” said Amy Roza, director of the Goucher prison partnershi­p. “There is something remarkable about having an issue, in 2019, where people in the current White House, Congress, advocates with a variety of perspectiv­es all believe in the value of this.” Not everyone in Congress is on board. “I’m not really sure where this push for Pell is coming from,” Rep. Virginia Foxx of North Carolina, the ranking Republican on the House Education Committee, grumbled at a recent hearing.

Where it is coming from is self-evident to a spectrum of advocates and politician­s. About 90 percent of the country’s 2 million prisoners will be released back into society. A report published in January by the Vera Institute of Justice found that expanding Pell grants to prisoners would result in higher earnings when they are released and save states $365.8 million each year in incarcerat­ion costs.

An often-cited 2013 Rand Corp. study, commission­ed by the Justice Department, found that prisoners who had access to education were 43 percent less likely to return to prison within three years than those who did not.

Smith graduated with a 3.79 GPA, left prison in April and currently works the graveyard shift at a warehouse for Johnson & Johnson. A childhood friend, Kima Smith, reconnecte­d with him in 2015, and they married in the Maryland prison in 2017.

“He’s the same person now that he’s always been,” she said. “When he sets his mind to something, he does it.”

In the 24 hours before graduation, exactly two months after his release, Smith walked through Goucher’s lush green campus and stone buildings for the first time. Until that day, his Goucher College had been a library with orange plastic circular tables and a few computers lining the walls.

“You know you’re representi­ng something bigger, but I never imagined this,” he said, as he walked to pick up his cap and gown.

Smith was the student speaker for a small, intimate precommenc­ement ceremony for Goucher partnershi­p students, attended by President Barack Obama’s second education secretary, John King, and Mark Holden, a senior vice president at Koch Industries.

Smith said he went from an underachie­ver to wanting to pursue a master’s degree in sociology, vowing to press for education in the criminal justice system.

“My education could never be accurately valued by the pay I receive at my job,” he said. “There is infinitely more value in the way in which I now view the world.”

 ?? PHOTOS BY ROSEM MORTON/NEW YORK TIMES ?? A graduation ceremony at Goucher College in Towson, Md., in May. Maurice Smith’s graduation from Goucher through a prison partnershi­p illustrate­s the potential of a bipartisan effort to overhaul the criminal justice system.
PHOTOS BY ROSEM MORTON/NEW YORK TIMES A graduation ceremony at Goucher College in Towson, Md., in May. Maurice Smith’s graduation from Goucher through a prison partnershi­p illustrate­s the potential of a bipartisan effort to overhaul the criminal justice system.
 ??  ?? Smith attends his graduation ceremony.
Smith attends his graduation ceremony.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States