Lauren Johnson
I’ve been to prison three times, but everyone — including me — thought that my second time would be my last. I had just learned I was pregnant a few days before I was incarcerated for drug possession. I spent my entire pregnancy in jail and gave birth to my first child there. We had two days together before I was separated from him and sent back to my cell. Leaving my baby was a grief that I never wanted to endure again.
I married my son’s father, had two more children, and bought a home. I did everything in my power to do the right thing; from the outside looking in, I had successfully reentered society. But under the surface, I still needed help. Five years later, I relapsed and was arrested for trace amounts — a felony in Texas — and was separated from my children once again.
I didn’t meet the standard definition of recidivism because I wasn’t arrested again within three years, but I was actually at risk all along. I simply didn’t have access to the services I needed to sustain a life of sobriety. I needed treatment, support, and accountability — not another jail sentence.
Unfortunately, my story is not uncommon, especially for those who struggle with addiction. Instead of defining recidivism as an individual’s likelihood of returning to criminal behavior, we should see it as a chance for rehabilitation and empowerment. Successful reintegration should not be measured by a lack of arrests but by the opportunity for human flourishing.
In honor of Second Chance Month, President Joe Biden recommitted to reforming the criminal justice system to give incarcerated individuals a “fair shot at the American Dream” as they return home. While having the freedom to pursue that dream is a step forward, many people who are reentering aren’t granted the tools they need to make it a reality.
Adopting a wider approach to understanding arrest and conviction data is needed to accurately assess how the criminal justice system impacts individuals and their families over time. Metrics like employment, housing stability, access to health care, support networks, and personal well-being help to identify gaps in reintegration efforts. If we can adequately address these gaps, the risks are significantly reduced.
One way to do this is through creating wraparound programs that offer services like education, vocational training, financial counseling, mentorship, and recovery support based on an individual’s unique needs, including underlying struggles like mental health and addiction as well as socioeconomic challenges.
Employers also have a role to play by giving formerly incarcerated individuals a fair chance at securing jobs that provide a sense of purpose and meet their financial needs. When running background checks, employers should assess the risk of recidivism using the reset principle so candidates are evaluated at the time of the background check, not at the time of conviction. These individuals deserve to be fully recognized for their progress and potential, and protected from assumptions that hinder their shot at a stable future.
While having a job to pay for housing, food, and other basic needs is key, mental-health services should also be more readily accessible. Most people leaving prison reenter society with little or no health coverage, making mental health services difficult or impossible to afford. As a result, they face disproportionate risks of death and overdose compared to the general population. For formerly incarcerated individuals who are already struggling to rebuild their lives, paying hundreds of dollars per month for therapy is simply not an option.
Not all of these wraparound services are government-led; groups like the Other Side Academy, Nation Outside, and Promising People are pioneering new, effective ways to help justice-impacted individuals and their families through reentry support and services. Finding unique ways to invest in these innovators can spark an economic shift to support people over prisons, and their solutions have the power to disrupt the prison industry.
The journey of reentry is challenging and complex, and every individual has unique needs. Oversimplifying recidivism hinders progress toward providing people with what they actually need. Everyone deserves a fair shot at the American Dream, and formerly incarcerated individuals deserve empathy, empowerment, and support to lead fulfilling lives.
Lauren Johnson is the justice director at Dream.Org and a formerly incarcerated advocate for criminal justice reform. She previously led advocacy strategy at the ACLU of Texas and is a founding member of the Texas Coalition for Incarcerated Women and the Reentry Advocacy Project. This column was produced for Progressive Perspectives, a project of The Progressive magazine, and distributed by Tribune News Service.