To help ex-cons, ban the box
It stands to reason, then, that society would do what it can to ensure that former inmates get jobs. The benefits are reaped not just by the freed inmates, who can put incarceration permanently behind them, or their families, who can have their loved ones and their breadwinners at home instead of locked up in distant cells where they can provide little familial, and no financial, support. It's obviously also better for communities to have their residents holding down jobs, paying their taxes and spending their earnings locally than shuttling back and forth to jail and, when in the neighborhood, having idle time and empty pockets.
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Illinois’ Injustice System
From where he stands today, Kerry Owens is optimistic. He was released from an Illinois prison in November, after serving a year for retail theft. Owens, 41, has been in and out of the criminal justice system before, but his most recent sentence, for his first felony conviction, has changed his life forever.
He resolved to live differently by volunteering, kicking the addiction that led him to steal $300 worth of merchandise, and enrolling at a local community college. But as a convicted felon, it is now harder than ever to get a job, find an apartment and receive social services.
Owens previously worked as a custodian, and while in prison he earned a certificate for commercial custodian services. But persistent high unemployment and his felony record have left him looking for work. “There’s nothing out there,” he says. “They’re certifying us for jobs that don’t exist.”
Housing for ex-cons: Spend a little, save a lot
Ron, 57, lives in a bachelor apartment on St. Clair Ave. W., found with help from the John Howard Society.
On the first seriously hot morning of a late spring, Ron gave his walk-up bachelor apartment on St. Clair Avenue West a serious sweep, despite the heat and fact that he otherwise keeps it immaculate.
“It’s already 30 degrees,” said Ron, 57, mopping his forehead with a cloth. “I need a fan, I think.”
But it is home — and has been since December, when the John Howard Society helped find him the place. Other than the fan, it has what he needs: A small kitchen, TV and pullout bed. He’s added a few personal touches, like mirrored lettering on the wall that says, “Live, Love, Laugh.”
“I feel good about myself,” said Ron.
Since the age of 17, Ron, a recovering heroin addict, estimates he has been in and out of jail about 40 times, spending a total of 20 years incarcerated. The longest stint was 21/2 years in a federal penitentiary for a string of drug-fuelled break-and-enters.