Beyond the Numbers: What JFF’s Horizons Conference Means for Prison Education and Reentry

 

Photo credit: Rebecca Villarreal

Hi all!

Part of my job at The Community is to correspond with individuals who are incarcerated in the state of Wisconsin. I also communicate with several people from Ohio. While this began as part of my Communications role, I chose to continue this work even after transitioning into my current position as Director of Disability Access in Prison Education.

Many of the people I write to express feelings of hopelessness: “I can’t do it,” “There’s no hope for me when I get out,” and so on. And honestly? I get it. I don’t always know what to say. The statistics are discouraging. According to one study, about 39% of people incarcerated in state facilities return to prison within three years. Only 40% of formerly incarcerated individuals have gainful employment (though I often wonder how “gainful” is actually defined). One study out of Cornell reported that 66% of incarcerated individuals self-report having a disability. The numbers vary depending on the source, but the overall picture doesn’t look promising.

So how do we respond? How do we encourage people who are staring down numbers like that—people who have been incarcerated for 15 or even 20 years, preparing for release with little to no family left, few financial resources, and no clear direction?

How do we offer hope without sounding like a cliché? “Don’t give up!” “Try hard and you’ll succeed!” “Good things come to those who wait!” These statements, while well-meaning, often fall flat. On the flip side, I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer either.

Last week, I had the opportunity to attend the Horizons conference hosted by Jobs for the Future (JFF). JFF has a division called the Center for Justice and Economic Advancement (CJEA), which is committed to breaking down systemic barriers and advancing fair chance employment for people with criminal records. JFF is also doing groundbreaking work around AI, North Star credentialing, and more. I’m continually impressed that they boldly and publicly support CJEA, even when so many organizations still shy away from justice-focused efforts.

During a main stage session with over 1,500 attendees—from institutions, nonprofits, corporations, and more—JFF proudly highlighted CJEA and invited Molly Lasagna, Susan Burton, Lucretia Murphy, and Darvelle Hutchins to speak. These four are giants in the field. I’ve admired Susan and Molly’s work for years, and Lucretia and Darvelle are true pioneers. If you don’t know who they are, take a moment to look them up—you won’t regret it. I got to buy Susan's book, too! 

In addition to the main session, I attended breakouts focused on fair chance employment, including one with a representative from the Port Authority (yes, the one known for its rigorous security checks) and a professor from Belize doing powerful comparative work. JFF also introduced seven ambassadors from CJEA, all formerly incarcerated individuals now leading in their fields.

I’ll be honest—there were moments I felt like a fish out of water. I felt that way last year, too. But here’s what I’ve realized: I belong there. I was in that room with governors, CEOs, university administrators, and yes, folks like me. I attended sessions on AI, disability, and justice just like the executives sitting next to me.

I’m especially grateful to Rebecca Villarreal and Jenna Dreier, whose passion for this work is unmatched. JFF backs up their values with action. They’ve even hired Shaun Libby, a currently incarcerated individual, as a manager on staff. They’ve made it work—despite the challenges—and most importantly, they’ve treated him like an equal member of the team. He’s building savings. When he comes home, he won’t be starting from scratch.

One of my personal heroes is Dolly Parton, and her words feel relevant here:

“If your actions create a legacy that inspires others to dream more, learn more, do more, and become more, then you are an excellent leader.”

That’s exactly what CJEA is doing.
They empower people to dream more by showing them a future is possible.
They help us learn more by educating the public and stakeholders.
They equip people to do more by building networks and hiring directly from impacted communities.
They help others become more by producing results—not just rhetoric.

Do you see where I’m going with this?

When incarcerated individuals write to me, I want to point to something real—something tangible, something practical. Instead of saying, “If I can do it, you can too,” I want to say, “Look at what JFF and CJEA are doing. There’s a model out there. There’s hope—and here’s what it looks like in action.”

And that’s what I hope to accomplish with our disability access project too. I want to be able to say, “Here’s what we’re building for you. Here’s how we’re creating access to education and employment.” Everyone deserves the chance to be an engaged, contributing member of their community. This is how we start.

Also—on a lighter note—I had an amazing time in New Orleans! We went on a riverboat, took a swamp tour (airboats are wild!), explored the French Market, and of course, wandered up and down Bourbon Street. If you go, take a riverboat tour—you won’t regret it!

To Molly, Susan, Darvelle, Lucretia, Rebecca, Jenna, Linette, Maria, Michael, Shaun, and so many others I’m forgetting to name here—thank you for making Horizons such a rewarding and revitalizing experience.