San Quentin News

Written By Incarcerated - Advancing Social Justice

Setting up to welcome Pacific Islands back

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Photo courtesy of Duc Ta
Duc Ta and Paul Jung

A nonprofit organization in Los Angeles is pioneering ways to help formerly incarcerated Asian Pacific Islanders (APIs) resettle and reconnect back to their communities.

“There’s a taboo for APIs who were and are incarcerated,” said Duc Ta, formerly incarcerated youth offender, professional chef and co-founder of API RISE.

“My own parents didn’t understand the work that I was doing with API RISE, but I felt compelled by my passion to provide a platform for people coming home. So I can relate on a very personal level to the cultural shame around individuals who were incarcerated.”

The passion to provide social support for system-impacted APIs is what draws community supporters, advocates and the formerly incarcerated to the organization.

“My brother was incarcerated in the late ’90s, and his incarceration inspired me to pursue a law degree,” said Paul Jung, a lawyer and co-founder of API RISE.

“I know the power of providing a social safety net that offers returning citizens a place to feel like home … a place to reconnect, to build camaraderie and to celebrate life. My brother is a living testament to the power and success of API RISE.

“My brother paroled in 2018 after serving 21 years. He is now working as a licensed electrician and volunteering his time to give back to API RISE, so others who are following behind him can be given the same opportunities for success that he has enjoyed.”

API RISE was founded in 2015 by community members Paul Jung, Traci Isihigo and two formerly incarcerated APIs, Duc Ta and David Kupihea.
Before Covid-19, the organization held monthly meetings in a church located south of downtown Los Angeles.

“A big part of our group is to socialize, host healing circles discussing forgiveness, and things members are struggling with,” said Ta. “We also host cooking classes, guest speakers and other fun events for our members.”
Since Covid-19, API RISE continues its work by hosting bi-weekly meetings on Zoom to check in with members and come up with ideas to provide mutual aid.

“We want the API brothers and sisters who are sitting behind bars serving 5, 10, 15 years or even longer to know we are here for them. If you need support letters, jobs and other resources before paroling, write to us,” said Ta.

Are you paroling to Southern California and in need of resources, assistance, support letters and job referrals? Contact our organization, API RISE, we are a non-profit organization based in Los Angeles founded by formerly incarcerated individuals with the support of community members.

Write to us:
API RISE
P.O. Box 53664, Los Angeles, CA 90053

Connect with us:
apirise@gmail.com / facebook: API RISE Los Angeles / Instagram: api_rise

Our goal is to build an actively engaged and involved Asian Pacific Islanders (API) community of API inmates, formerly incarcerated individuals, at-risk youth, families, allies, and supporters. To educate our community around issues of how the criminal, legal and prison systems impact APIs and to organize around the needs of currently and formerly incarcerated community members.

https://www.api-rise.org/

Marin’s Chief Probation Officer focuses on restorative justice

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Marin County Chief Probation Officer Mike Daly

Mike Daly, the chief probation officer in Marin County, believes in restorative justice, something he’s put into practice instead of talking about it.

During an interview with SQ News in January, Daly discussed pro-social thinking and how to “rewire’ people to be the best they can be after becoming involved in the criminal justice system.

“I want people to know that restorative justice does work, and there’s data to prove it,” said Daly. “It should be part of a forward thinking criminal justice system.”

To successfully undertake restorative justice as a model, he said, there has to be input from district attorneys, victims, offenders and other stakeholders.

In Marin County, “Cases are referred to the probation department for restorative justice only after being cleared by the Marin County District Attorney’s Office and the Marin County Public Defender’s Office,” the Marin Independent Journal reported

For three years, Daly’s office has been innovative in its approach to criminal justice.

“I think I’m the first in Marin to hire someone to do restorative justice,” he said. “We offer that if the victim is okay with it. We want to be careful not to re-victimize…”

Citing some of the failures mass incarceration has produced over the last 30 years, Daly said a change in the culture of corrections needs to take place as well. He acknowledged the increase in California’s prison population didn’t happen overnight but said the legislature was asleep at the wheel for two decades.

Between 1990 and 2005, a new prison opened in the United States every 10 days,” wrote Bryan Stevenson, attorney and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, in his book Just Mercy. “Prison growth and the resulting ‘prison-industrial complex’ – the business interests that capitalize on prison construction – made imprisonment so profitable that millions of dollars were spent lobbying state legislators…”

“We didn’t examine or make adjustments,” Daly said of the years California’s recidivism rate was at 70%.

He said it was there for a long time, and every year the state budget kept going up. Eventually a federal three-judge panel stepped in.

When that happened, the courts instructed California to reduce and maintain its state prison population at a cap of 137.5% of design capacity in order to deliver adequate medical care to all inmates.

Shortly thereafter, in 2011, California lawmakers passed Assembly Bill 109, Public Safety Realignment, and implemented it to manage the state’s unprecedented growth in its prison population.

Other significant reforms followed in California’s criminal justice landscape. Changes in the law such as Proposition 57 are changing the situation, he said, while admitting it’s not perfect, “but it’s a start.”

Daly said he’s worked with Ralph Diaz, secretary of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

They’ve established a Skype program that allows inmates headed for post-release community supervision (PRCS) to communicate with their probation officer before leaving state prison.

Daly was president of the Chief Probation Officers of California in 2014. According to the Marin County Probation Department website, “(former) Governor Brown had placed a tremendous amount of responsibility on the shoulders of probation departments across the state. You don’t do that unless you have trust and confidence in your partners.”

Daly said he felt that trust.

“We will work with Governor Newsom and hopefully create the same trusting bond that we had with Governor Brown,” the probation department website states.

“We’re not a ‘lock ‘em up county,’” said Daly. “I’m happy that Marin has adjusted to Realignment very well.”

He said all of its criminal justice leaders who voted to allocate funding feel that strong rehabilitative programs are the best for public safety.

Assembly Bill 109 provides funding for many of Marin County’s support systems such as finding shelter for those on probation.

“We will pay for that free, for the first six months,” said Daly.

Daly noted that Senate Bill 678 also provides funding for programs that offset prison.

“This bill was introduced around 2008, and it’s still active today,” he said.

The Edward Byrne Memorial Justice Assistance Grant Program also funds Daly’s restorative justice service, the Independent Journal reported. Daly stressed that defendants who participate in this program are less likely to reoffend.

Daly was appointed as Chief Probation Officer in 2009 by the Board of Supervisors, but confessed he wasn’t ready to deal with the politics that came with the job. Since Realignment, the management of lower-level prisoners was shifted from the state prison and parole system to the county jail and probation system.

To promote justice, Daly said “We’re proposing that the age of jurisdiction for juveniles be 18 to 19,” citing the science behind brain development and the foundational reasoning that the brain is still in a stage of development between the ages 18 and 25.

“We all have our points of change,” said Daly. “What I’m trying to develop [in them] is intrinsic motivation. Sometimes guys don’t care about themselves so it’s hard to make those changes. When you make that move intrinsically you have a much higher likelihood of being successful.”

“I’ve seen guys who’ve turned the corner,” said Daly, adding “Extrinsic motivation doesn’t work on guys from the hood. You have much more success when you develop intrinsic motivation.”

Daly said statewide, 8% of those on PRCS violate their probation and return to prison, but in Marin County the number is 2%. “We’re considered a high performing county,” he said.

In 1990, Daly received his bachelor’s degree from Cal Poly in Social Science with a concentration in criminal justice—the same year he started his career with Marin Probation. In 1999 he earned a master’s degree in public administration from Golden Gate University.

“I’m super proud about (restorative justice) and I’m looking to expand,” said Daly. “I’d like people to know that we are the first department in California solely to conduct restorative justice for offender and victim. I’m pretty proud of the footprint we have in Marin.”

CDCR leader and others seek prison reform answers in Norway

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Secretary Diaz calls for a sense of urgency for prison reforms

CDCR Secretary Ralph Diaz (back row, 5th from right) and formerly incarcerated Adnan Khan (in center)

As they covered 5,000 miles and an ocean on an international flight on Sept. 14, CDCR Secretary, Ralph Diaz and Connie Gipson had plenty of time to consider their doubts.

“It won’t work here.”

“California is too big, too violent and plagued by prison gangs.”

Those thoughts soon gave way to excited optimism, as the pair, CDCR’s Secretary and Division of Adult Institutions (DAI) Director, bonded with senior staff from the governor’s office, formerly incarcerated people, peace officer union representatives and criminal justice advocates in a life-changing environment across the globe.

Over six days, Diaz and Gipson toured Norwegian prisons, training facilities and reentry programs, witnessing famed humanistic practices that deliver wellness, safety and empowerment to everyone involved.

The trip, funded by philanthropic programs and organized by an ambitious visionary at the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF), made significant impact on CDCR leadership. “The world shrunk,” Diaz explained. “I saw staff and inmates engaging in a very positive way, as if the environment belonged to all of them, not just inmates or staff.

“At that moment I saw aspects of this that can be done.”

The team

Diaz and Gipson were joined by California Men’s Colony. Warden Josie Gastelo and Salinas Valley State Prison Warden Matthew Atchley and Captain Edward Brown. Governor Newsom [sent] representatives Daniel Seeman, Deputy Cabinet Secretary, and Kelli Evans, Deputy Legal Affairs Secretary for Criminal Justice in the Office of the Governor.

Other attendees included formerly incarcerated advocates Adnan Khan (Co-Founder of Re:Store Justice) and Sam Lewis (Executive Director of the Anti-Recidivism Coalition), or representatives from the California Correctional Peace Officers Association.

“I think it was the right people in the room, and what was so fascinating was that we all came to our discoveries throughout the week,” Gipson said. “It was really beneficial to have so many different perspectives going through the same experience.”

“We chose Norway because they have a very public health approach to corrections. They say that people go to court to get punished and go to prison to become better neighbors,” said Williams. “Every single policy/procedure and contact with a program is seen as an opportunity to bring health and well-being to people who are incarcerated, and simultaneously this gives staff and correctional officers the opportunity to change people’s lives for the better.”

To make the trip happen, Amend partnered with the community-based nonprofit organization Smart Justice to raise philanthropic funds. The biggest contributors included The Jacob and Valeria Langeloth Foundation and the Charles and Lynn Schusterman Family Foundation.

Advocates for all

In Norway, the only human right an incarcerated person loses is liberty. The system, including architecture and habitat, is designed to mimic the community those citizens will return to. Interactions with staff are specifically structured to champion wellness and safety.

“I believe we have segments of what is happening in Norway going on in our institutions,” Diaz said. “We have to line it up, put it on paper and give employees the permission to care about the inmate population and remind them that rehabilitation has been a part of their job since the day they signed up.”

There are clear benefits to the normalcy of the environment for staff as well as inmates. Williams said initial reports from Norway show health and life expectancy metrics for correctional staff mirror the outcomes of other citizens. She pointed to research in California that has highlighted a public health crisis among correctional employees, who are more prone to depression, suicide and poor life expectancy.

Khan, whose work at Re:Store Justice brings victims and offenders together for dialogue and forgiveness, said, “My advocacy has always been about crime survivors, bringing them in to prison, and currently/formerly incarcerated people, but when Brie talked about suicides and life expectancy of staff — that bothered me. I had to reevaluate my advocacy. Am I choosing to be the leader of a specific demographic of justice reform or an advocate for public health and humanity? Human rights and public health advocacy has to include correctional officers that are suffering and in pain.”

How Norway changed

Norway’s prison model, thriving at a reported recidivism rate of 20%, wasn’t built overnight. Advocates point to demands by the Norwegian Parliament that authorized a shift to rehabilitation and humanistic practices in the late 1990s.

Over time, accompanied by changes in sentencing laws, massive changes to all aspects of the correctional system began to take hold.

Those changes go far beyond the supportive housing units with private restrooms, couches, stocked kitchen units or even small forests in recreational yards that keep offenders connected to the world around them.

Officers interact warmly and respectfully on a first-name basis with incarcerated people and are trained much longer—two years versus CDCR’s 13-week Basic Correctional Officer Academy. They are schooled on psychology, criminology, human rights and ethics. The process includes a lot of perspective shifts, like placing an officer in the role of an offender and experiencing different custodial tactics.

“I always look at experiences, trainings with an open mind, but I admit, I was pretty apprehensive about this,” Gipson said. “Early on I felt like this was too good to be true, but the more I started to listen to their concepts and principles of normality, humanity, the more I bought in. Everything clicked, and I was just blown away. I came back excited because I feel there are a lot of possibilities for us.”

CDCR and CCPOA leaders at Norwegian prison

The California way

A theme understood by trip-goers and emphasized by Norwegian officials is the practicality of change.

Norway didn’t evolve into a better form of correctional care immediately, and uprooting the same system and dropping it into a vastly different population is not the solution for California.

“We are not trying to make it the Norway way or the European way but the California way,” Diaz said. “We are a unique, diverse populace with cultures within cultures, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make necessary changes.”

“We just have to make it the California way. That doesn’t mean saying no to security but yes to a different way of doing business that improves the workplace and makes a better life for people returning to our communities,” he added.

Diaz said he looks forward to collaborating with other states that strive for similar innovation and emphasized the importance of supporting an environment that both acknowledges the suffering of crime victims and delivers on a promise to create fewer victims in the future.

He joined Gipson in a presentation to CDCR wardens across the state on Nov. 6, highlighting the most impactful concepts and practices that simultaneously promote wellness, safety and rehabilitation.

“We have to look at our historic policies and ask ourselves about each one: Why? Is it humane?” Diaz said. “As policy makers it is our job to change policies and explain why, because in the end we have to create a more humane prison system.”

The insight inspires action.

“My first step is getting a workgroup together to look at what policies and procedures we have in play that escalate vs. de-escalate,” Gipson said. “I also want to look at our training and talk about giving staff the comfort to manage situations within their authority without fear of making a mistake.”

“My big takeaway is a sense of urgency to make these necessary reforms because we have witnessed positive impact for all those involved in a correctional setting and for those returned to communities,” Diaz said. “I know what can be done. I know the department’s abilities and the ability of staff to get things done.”

That’s the California way.

Formerly incarcerated training for conflict resolution

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Formerly incarcerated people are getting trained in San Francisco in the art of conflict resolution in a neighborhood notorious for homelessness and street crime.

Graduates of the St. Anthony’s Foundation program are then offered jobs patrolling Tenderloin sidewalks, reported the San Francisco Examiner on Nov. 10.

“Client Safety Services started with the idea that instead of enforcing rules or laws or calling the police all the time on behavior, we have a relationship with the folks where we are meeting them where they are at. We are trying to provide safety for all parties involved,” said St. Anthony’s Advocacy Program Manager Calder Lorenz.

Seven days a week from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. the program’s employees are paid $20 an hour to walk or ride Segways to roust and direct homeless people to public services.

The program is a sympathetic replacement to the police being alerted to homeless individuals using drugs, sitting and sleeping in the vicinity of businesses.

Employees are taught how to administer the opioid antidote Narcan. They’re also certified to carry handcuffs and make “citizen’s arrests” in accordance with Penal Code 837.

Approximately 40 employees strong, St. Anthony’s has recently contracted out its security force to other organization and business in the Tenderloin section at roughly $35 a hour.

“We are trying to provide safety for all parties involved,”

“What we’re seeing is multiple organizations and businesses hiring through a single contract and identifying which area on the block supports the work or via an agreement with the safety block groups,” Lorenz told the Examiner.

“We wanted to create a blueprint that the Tenderloin neighborhood or other parts of the City would be interested in using, so a curriculum was set up.”

The Examiner interviewed six Tenderloin community members, and all felt harassed by the program’s employees.

A 61-year-old community member identified as Mike told the Examiner he felt threatened by the program’s employees patrolling the block in front of the Christian Science Church on O’Farrell Street.

“It’s a mystery to me why someone like him thinks he’s got the authority to run everybody off a sidewalk no matter what they are doing, and to threaten you physically like he’s going to fight you if you don’t,” said Mike.

A program employee identified as Charles said, “We are basically up here to prevent the guys (from) being a nuisance here, (those) leaving trash and needles (and) smoking drugs or stuff like that – that’s what we are up here to do.”

David Knego, executive director of the Curry Senior Center on Turk Street, said his staff felt overwhelmed by the drug dealing and other safety issues outside of the center.

“One of our nurses got assaulted in the neighbor- hood store,” said Knego. “I thought we had to do something.”

Homelessness is a serious problem for America’s formerly incarcerated

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Homelessness is a serious problem for America’s formerly incarcerated people, and it’s even worse in the United Kingdom, published reports say.

In the United States there are approximately 700,000 individuals returning home from state prisons each year, formerly incarcerated according to the Journal of Community Corrections. Nine-million are released from county jails annually. Ten percent of the individuals leaving or entering prisons and jails are homeless in the months preceding and following incarceration, the report said.

In the UK, 15% of prisoners reported being homeless at sentencing, compared to the 37% who registered homeless post-release. In 2018, there were 320,000 people homeless in Britain, reported The-Conversation.com.

Figures from a 2017 analysis by the Housing Charity Shelter shows a 13,000 person rise in homelessness throughout the U.K., equivalent to one in every 200 people being homeless, the Nov. 4 article reported.

A 2012 study by the U.K.’s Ministry Of Justice reported that 37% of formerly incarcerated people have nowhere to live and that two-thirds of them will re-offend within a year.

“In my experience, housing is one of the most difficult needs to be met for returning ex-offenders upon release,” Patricia McKernan reported in the Journal of Community Corrections.

The reasons given by the formerly incarcerated in the UK for their recidivism are: the loss of housing accommodations at the time of arrest, a failing judicial system that does little to combat homelessness, and inadequate resources post-release, The- Conversation.com reported.

Unstable housing complicates all other targets of intervention for ex-offenders, said McKernan.

Incarcerated people are 10 times more likely to be home- less in the United States than the general public, reported the Prison Policy Initiative in August 2018.

Data from a Bureau of Justice Statistics survey showed that past incarceration and homelessness were directly linked, the Prison Policy report stated.

A hopeful sign for the formerly incarcerated in the U.K. was passage in 2018 of the Homelessness Reduction Act. It paved the way for local authorities to provide help to all homeless people, TheConversation.com reported.

Prior to the passage of the HRA, Britain’s homeless legislation provided that the formerly incarcerated could not receive help from the local authorities, where they served their prison term unless they could prove a local connection, the report said.

Frequently in California parolees are sent back to the county where they were sentenced. San Quentin inmate Kerry Rudd’s reaction was, “I don’t want to go back to where I was arrested. Being labeled a transient in Alameda County. I don’t want to parole to my county of commitment. I want something different. The other part is that I don’t have anything solid for where I want to go.”

Another San Quentin resident said, “Well, to be honest, I’m scared that when I get released, I’ll be homeless. I’m not from California, and I have no one in California.

Two hundred dollars gate money is not enough for me to just go back out into society and say, ‘Alright, I’m ready to do it right this time.’ I believe a lot of people are homeless because they have no family, fresh out of jail or prison with no support, and with mental illnesses.”

Both men had these suggestions to improve their chances of a successful transition back into society: more proactive participation from the prisons, local government agencies, and programs aimed at the short-termed of- fender, just as there are targeted programs for lifers.

“I believe a lot of people are homeless because they have no family, fresh out of jail or prison with no support, and with mental illnesses”

“Excluding formerly incarcerated people from safe and stable housing has devastating side effects. It can reduce access to healthcare services (including addiction and mental health treatment), make it harder to secure a job, and prevent formerly incarcerated people from access- ing educational programs,” PrisonPolicy.org reported.

In the United States, there are an estimated 550,000 people homeless, many of which have some sort of criminal justice system contact, PrisonPolicy.org reported.

With the passage of Britain’s Homeless Reduction Act, prisons are now required to inform the local authorities when someone deemed homeless is about to be released, and has made it obligatory for local authorities to provide help to (all) homeless people, whether they have a local connection or not, TheConversation.com report said.

A national survey of U.S. state parole agencies found that 60%, had no housing assistance program for post- released individuals, the Prison Policy Initiative noted in 2006.

Potential solutions to homeless problems mentioned by advocates include:

• States should develop more efficient interagency systems to help formerly incarcerated people find homes.

• States should remove the systematic barriers that the formerly incarcerated face, such as, ending aggressive enforcement of quality-of-life ordinances which prohibits people from acquiring housing based on past criminal offenses.

• Systems like “Housing First” programs should be implemented that assure the formerly incarcerated will have a successful approach to reintegration into society.

• Expand social services, and provide reentry programs that are all-inclusive.

• States should mirror Utah’s approach which has made it a budget priority to provide permanent housing for the chronically homeless. This approach acknowledges that stable living arrangements are necessary before people can address unemployment, illness, substance use disorders and other problems.

Film producer and social justice activist Scott Budnick visits San Quentin

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Scott-Budnick

Film producer and social justice activist Scott Budnick kicked it with youth offenders and spoke to Kid-CAT members about his efforts to put the human face on America’s broken criminal justice system.

“This is my favorite group in the whole state,” said the famed producer of The Hangover and the recently released Just Mercy. “It’s good to be back here.”

Budnick slid into San Quentin for a couple of hours Dec. 12 before heading to Folsom State Prison, where the Sacramento Kings were set to christen a renovated basketball court for Play For Justice.

“I’ve been coming to Kid-CAT for years,” Budnick said as he looked around at about 30 prisoners in SQ Education’s B-Building. “I literally don’t recognize anyone—only a couple of faces.

“It’s nuts. Everyone in KidCAT’s going home.”

Budnick came that day with longtime SQ volunteer Ayoola Mitchell to speak with and meet youth offenders who may have heard of him but have never seen him face-to-face.

New KidCAT member Rafael Bravo, 28, introduced Budnick to the room.

“People say, ‘Who the hell is Scott?’ Well, I’ve known him since I was 16,” said Bravo. “If anyone in the world believed in me, it’s this man right here.

“He appeared one day when I was in YA [Youth Authority]. ‘Are you Rafael? Your cousin told me to come find you.’”

Bravo told everyone how Budnick eventually got him a job on a movie set.

“He offered me the best of opportunities I could possibly have,” said Bravo. “But I wasn’t right.”

Bravo ended up committing second degree murder and being sentenced to 16-years-to-life.

“While we’re incarcerated, this is the time to get right with ourselves right now,” said Bravo. “We have to be there for each other and lift each other up.”

Budnick then explained to the guys about his experiences seeing the inequities of the criminal justice system firsthand.

“When I was working on Old School, a friend of mine took me with him to Juvenile Hall. We volunteered for Inside Out Writers, working with a group of 10 kids—all facing life sentences.”

Budnick recalled asking one of the young men how their week had been. “‘It was a bad week,’ the kid told me. He said he’d just got sentenced to 300-years-to-life. ‘They stacked everything—I got washed.’

“And, this kid looked like he was 11. I thought, ‘Oh, they’ll have a good time with him in prison. This is awful.’”

That was one moment Budnick says changed his perspective, changed his life. “How do I live in a country that would do this to a child?

“I could not comprehend in my mind how we, as a country, think this is okay. Our system’s so incredibly racist and unfair. There’s like no White kids in Juve- nile Hall.”

Budnick related it to his own children. “My kid would get bailed out, have the best attorney money can buy and get a deal no one could have gotten.

“If you have money, you’re not going to get washed. I couldn’t just teach a writing class and feel like I’m giving back.”

Budnick went on to found the Anti-Recidivism Coalition (ARC) in 2013, an organization committed to offering guidance and help to the incarcerated and recently released, as well as advocating fiercely to affect policy change.

“Getting laws passed, we’re 4 for 4 so far, with Governor Newsom,” Bud- nick said. “And, I think we were like 13 for 13 with Governor Brown.

“Our policy work through ARC, that’s all done by you guys—because you guys are up there on Capitol Hill telling your stories.”

Budnick talked about how the lessons he’s learned as a filmmaker tie into affecting social change.

“Conflict, struggle, a happy ending — that’s what makes a great story, a great film,” he said. “And you guys have some of the most powerful stories on earth.

“No matter who I bring into prison, everyone changes when they meet you guys and see you as human beings.”

According to Budnick, it’s all about being able to humanize the incarcerated through storytelling.

“There’s such a beautiful light inside all of you,” he said. “That’s the lesson. Talking about you guys as human beings got voters to say ‘Yes.’

“The criminal justice system’s all about scare tactics. Think about that — we just need to make sure juries aren’t scared, right?”

Budnick is intent on using his Hollywood platform and success to illuminate the human faces stuck behind the walls of mass incarceration.

With Black Panther and Creed star Michael B. Jordan, Budnick produced Just Mercy, the film version of Bryan Stevenson’s nonfiction account of freeing Walter McMillian, a wrongfully convicted prisoner on Alabama’s Death Row.

McMillian spent years on Death Row due to a conviction based solely on the testimony of a jailhouse informant. And although his jury sentenced him to life, the trial judge intervened and ordered a death sentence.

Stevenson founded the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) to fight for people like Mc- Millian.

“The entire movie is about humanizing all the people on Death Row,” said Budnick. “There’s a pretty graphic execution scene in there, where we show it all.

“By the time the audience gets to that point in the film, we know the guy’s guilty — but they all cry when he’s put to death.”

In conjunction with Just Mercy’s January release dates, Budnick explained how he and Warner Bros. partnered to launch Represent Justice, “the largest political social impact campaign for a movie — ever.”

“We’re using our social media to send people to websites on criminal justice reform,” he said. “They’ll be able to see Juvenile Hall information where they can go volunteer.

“We want to try and immediately activate people—engage them to get in- volved.”

Budnick also expressed his excitement for Play For Justice, where the Sacramento Kings, Milwaukee Bucks and other NBA partners are visiting prisons to interact with incarcerated communities, bringing them basketball — and hope.

“I’m driving from here straight to Folsom,” he told the SQ guys. “Some people might think basketball fans don’t know anything about criminal justice — we’re go- ing to change all that.”

Ayoola Mitchell spoke about how she first crossed paths with Budnick. “I met Scott four years ago, when we both were speaking before the Legislature in Sacramento.”

“It really struck me, because, you know, I was dressed all in my adult clothes,” said Mitchell. “But him—I swear he had flip flops on and was there to address public officials just like I was.

“Something Scott said that day really resonated with me. He said, ‘I just don’t give a f–k.’ Me, as a Black woman—how I look matters. When I go in there, I know I’ll be judged.”

Budnick chuckled slightly. “Everyone already sees me as ‘the Hangover guy,’ so I can get away with it.”

Mitchell continued. “A few years later, I was visiting the ARC offices in Los An- geles. It’s all about that six degrees of separation—the way people’s live intersect.

“There was a guy who’d gotten out and was working for Scott, a guy I’d known since he was 16 in Juvenile Hall,” she said. “He told me he was going to the Oscars that year.

“I’m like, ‘I’ve never been to the Oscars. What about me?’”

Mitchell’s career in criminal justice reform spans more than 38 years, and running. “I’ve been fighting for y’all before some of you were even born,” she said. “So much needs to be done out there.

“I have such a heart for you guys.”

Budnick asked Mitchell what organizations she works for. “It’s just me—Ayoola. No non-profit. No organization,” she said. “I’ve always believed in redemption.

“I’m old as Hell, but I can’t retire until all y’all are free.” Budnick commended Mitchell for her continued effort and passion, particularly since she does it mostly on her own without all the fundraising and support networks he has access to. “It’s easy for me to do this work,” he said.
Some of the SQ guys had questions about what kind of reentry support ARC provides once they’re released.

“We got you,” said Budnick. “You’ll have a very stable place to live and people around you who care. If that keeps you up at night or gives you pause, don’t worry about it.”

A big question was about getting Budnick involved in spreading KidCAT’s First Step curriculum to other facilities.

“The model that was started here—that should be at High Desert, at these hopeless places,” he said. “There’s what, like 35 prisons in California?

“Your program should be available at all of them— anywhere there’s youth offenders looking for hope.”

The value of Prison to Employment Connection on returning citizens through job opportunities and connections

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Prison to Employment Connection’s Employer Day in November

Prison to Employment Connection (PEC) reached a milestone at San Quentin, completing its 10th session and graduating 44 men, who learned how to present themselves to future employers.

One of the highlights of the program was Employer Day in November, where 196 interviews took place with inmates inside the prison’s Protestant chapel. They were conducted with potential companies that hire the formerly incarcerated. A subsequent graduation ceremony was held two weeks later for the Session 10-44 graduates.

Keeping with tradition, Diana Williams, PEC executive director, spoke to the audience comprised of inmates, guests and PEC volunteers. She said the rate of recidivism in California is more than 60%. “That means 26 of the men in this room would come back to prison within three years of their release.” She offered employment as one of the key solutions to reduce recidivism.

According to Williams, recidivism is cut in half when those who are formerly incarcerated find employment. For those who have jobs upon release from prison, recidivism is 3.3% to 8 %, she said.

“To date, 253 men have graduated from PEC,” said Williams. “Of those, 153 have paroled and only one has returned to prison,” leaving her program with a 1% recidivism rate.

Diana Williams giving a speech to the audience

“This is a blessing to me, something I’ve been needing my whole life,” said Edmund Johnson, 47. He’s been incarcerated 24 years. “I think the program is excellent. It’s teaching me to use my transferable skills. It’s teaching me how to talk to employers.”

Williams explained how during months of preparation the men learned personal and work related interests. They studied work values, resume writing, interview skills, their incarceration history, and used it all to create “packages of success.” She said they also worked on learning how to reframe rejection.

“It’s designed to connect the men to themselves,” Williams told the audience of employers and career specialists. “Men in this program experience a renewed hope.”

Returning citizen Nelson Butler speaking with a student

She said 68 men started the class in August. Two weeks later, the Session 10-44 graduates attended a ceremony in the Catholic chapel, where they received certificates and other paperwork that will allow them to find employment upon their release from prison.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Michael Belton, 58. “I signed up, and I wasn’t sure, but I said ‘what do I have to lose?’ I actually gained something from it.”

He said PEC taught him to be open about his criminal history.

Gary Falxman came in from Realty One and the Oakland Rotary Club. He had toured the prison previously and said he learned about the programs in prison, and it made an impression on him. “I’m back here to help others find what they’re passionate about,” he said.

Checker is a San Francisco-based company working to modernize the background check process.

A participant interviewing with City College of San Francisco

“Our mission is to promote fair chance hiring,” Rebecca Rabison said. “We do that by trying to provide more employment opportunities for people with conviction histories.”

“Socializing” the idea of second chances, Orrian Willis works for the City of San Francisco’s Office of Economic and Work Force Development. It funds 45 job training programs, 13 of which focus on technical training. It was his third time attending Employer Day. “In our labor market, the demand is starting to recognize the talent” (of the formerly incarcerated)”.

Willis asked, “If people do their time why are we still punishing them when they get out?” Adding, to give them employment, “I think it’s our fiscal responsibility.”

“I was nervous and excited, not to mention I almost fell off the chair for giving me such an opportunity of a lifetime,” said Edwin Chavez, 44. He said he’s never had a job interview in his life. He’s been incarcerated for 25 years.

“I love it,” said Steve Garrett, 34, who’s been incarcerated for 18 months. “I think it’s a great program. The opportunity and skills that they’re giving us is what we need to stay out of prison.”

Elizabeth Toups, of the Jewish Vocational Service, had visited the prison previously during a graduation ceremony. “I was so impressed with what everyone was doing here,” she said.

The San Francisco-based organization works with people from all backgrounds to help them get jobs.

“Sometimes that involves connecting them to training, “she said.

Participants greeting employers as they come into San Quentin

When the interviews were completed, the guests reconvened to seats on the stage in the chapel. Williams commented that this 10th PEC session had the largest group of supporters attend Employer Day. Twelve of them stood up and received a warm applause from the men.

Jay Minteer was one of those supporters. He said another supporter, Tom Lacey, introduced him to PEC. He said it’s a worthy cause to make sure people don’t come back. It was his first time inside of a prison.

“I was impressed when I walked in and shook everyone’s hands,” said Minteer. “It works when you shake someone’s hand and look someone in the eye.”

“Thank you for believing in these men and this program,” said Williams. She introduced and thanked the inmate PEC volunteers who’ve also gone through the program and come back to help others. “As outside volunteers, we can only do so much for the program.”

Williams explained how the program was started before introducing Nobel Butler, who came up with the idea to provide inmates a head start on employment before parole. When he was incarcerated, he wanted to know how to get a job and to present employment prospects to the parole board.

“I just really wanted to come back and say things that other people (said to) me, so I really wanted to give back. This is my opportunity,” said Butler. He paroled and said he’s been gainfully employed ever since. The audience applauded his success. “My purpose here today is to give you guys hope. I think maybe I did something half right.”

“I realize life is an interview,” Williams, a PEC graduate now on parole, told her. She acknowledged and thanked PEC volunteers Lisa Trustin and Gabrielle Nicolet.

This was Trustin’s second session. “It’s not different because we experienced the same transformation the men make connecting with their own hope,” she said.

“It’s always different,” said Nicolet. “There are different challenges, like lockdowns, that present challenges. The prison population is different than it was a year ago.”

She said the core of why she volunteers is because prisoners need help. It was her sixth session.

As the guests sat on the stage, they received feedback from many of the inmates.

“I want to thank you for your friendly demeanor,” said Richard Richardson. “This program is everything I thought it would be. You guys treated me like a human.”

The employers and guests also shared their comments with the men.

One said, “This is the second time I’ve come, and each time there’s a new excitement.”

Another said, “You all should be teaching people how to interview.”

Their remarks kept coming.

“I’ve looked at a lot of resumes, and I can’t tell you how much I’d like to see more of these,” said another guest.

Employees of Checkr meeting with participants

At the graduation ceremony, Williams asked, “How many of you would have taken this class if you weren’t getting RAC (Rehabilitation Achievement Credits) credits?” About 90% of the men raised their hands. Then she read the interview results of the PEC graduates and said they did as well or better than people on the outside. The percentages from low to high:

5 Excellent 42%

4 Above average 39%

3 Average 19%

2 Below 0%

1 Poor 0%

Derry Brown said someone suggested he take the program. He went through the class and has now become a facilitator for the program’s 11th session. He said he’d never completed a resume or had many jobs and that his youth was swallowed up with incarceration.

“I didn’t have any of these skills,” he said. “So for me to go through this process was inspiring.”

In addition to Williams, Angel Falcone has been a volunteer for all 10 sessions. He told the men, “Every job is your business school” and advised them to do the best they can on every job.

“Everything we learn, we’re going to need,” said Dwight Kennedy, who volunteers for the program. “Take what you’ve learned and apply it to your life.”

San Francisco to replace Juvenile Hall with rehabilitative center

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By Dillon Kim, Journalism Guild Writer

San Francisco voted to close its Juvenile Hall and replace it with a smaller “rehabilitative center” to provide a more home-like setting for youths who don’t need to be detained but can’t return home.

The Board of Supervisors voted 10-1 on June 4 to shut the facility by the end of 2021.

Mayor London Breed and some other community leaders oppose the facility’s complete closure and instead support institutional reform. “What about a teenager charged with murdering someone? Someone’s son or daughter is dead and so what happens to that young person?” said Breed. “Sometimes there is a need [for incarceration]. And so what does that look like?”

California law mandates that certain juveniles must be held in a secure facility.

According to a recent report in the San Francisco Chronicle, juvenile delinquency rates in the U.S. and California have declined over the past decade.

Last January, just forty-five youths remained housed in SF’s juvenile hall—less than one-third of its full capacity. At that rate of occupancy, the city spends almost $270,000 annually to incarcerate a single child, according to numbers released by the Young Women’s Freedom Center.

Additionally, HuffPost reported that San Francisco’s population is only 5% Black—yet Black children comprise 60% of its incarcerated juvenile population,.

Supervisor Catherine Stefani was the only holdout to vote “no” against the ordinance.

“I do believe this piece of legislation is well-intended. I’m on the same page in terms of why we are doing this,” said Stefani. “But when we flip that page to the solution, I’m not there yet because I have a hard time closing Juvenile Hall with a date certain and without a plan in place.”

The new ordinance creates a 12-person team that will include city officials, juvenile justice experts and community members—all working to develop feasible alternatives to youth incarceration. It also calls for redirecting the funds allocated for Juvenile Hall to programs that support youth mental health treatment and academic aid.

As a 16-year-old, Leticia Silot spent time incarcerated at the city’s juvenile hall. She spoke about her experience recently in an interview for KQED on National Public Radio (NPR).

“Man, it felt like forever. I don’t even know what time it was half the time because they take the clocks out,” Silot recalled. “They don’t let us have clocks in the building, so it’s like- it’s very confusing.”

Supervisor Matt Haney told the Examiner, “The harsh truth is that the incarceration of children in jail-like environments, behind steel doors in concrete rooms, does not work. Incarceration adds trauma and pain to the lives of children who have often experienced an unimaginable amount of trauma and pain.

“Kids need treatment, support, education, community-based, non-incarceration-based opportunities. They need better than we are doing now.”

Report finds high rates of recidivism in prisoners released from SF County jail

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By Alfred King, Journalism Guild Writer

Approximately 43% of people released from the San Francisco County Jail were rearrested within a three-year period, a new report reveals.

The data collected by the San Francisco District Attorney’s Office tracked the recidivism rates of 9,407 people in the county jail, the San Francisco Chronicle reported.

Offenders who committed violent crimes, burglaries and other property crimes were even more likely to be rearrested, the data showed.

“Of the 965 people convicted of burglaries, 72% were rearrested and 45% were reconvicted. For the 882 people convicted of assault, 49% were arrested again and 21% were reconvicted. And convicted felony drug pushers were rearrested at a rate of 54%, with 20% of them convicted on a new charge,” the Chronicle reported Sept. 17.

Data collected followed adults convicted and sentenced for crimes in 2013, 2014 and 2015.

Only 6% of 2,320 drunken drivers were rearrested within the same three-year period.

The goal is transparency, but it’s also a tool for policymakers to make better decisions and measure effectiveness, District Attorney George Gascon told the Chronicle.

Gascon said the data offers insight into law enforcement, community supervision and clinical strategies helping the justice system officials to use court and custody resources more efficiently.

“Other than public health, public safety is the biggest chunk of any local budget and we spend it without often knowing whether it will work or not, this could be the beginning of a different conversation.” said Gascon.

This data does not include offenders who are sentenced to California prison and was collected in concert with the Sheriff’s Department, the California Policy Lab at UC Berkeley and the McArthur Foundation.

San Francisco sends the least number of people to California prisons, with less than 20% of felony convictions resulting in state prison.

“This innovative tool is a model for how cities and counties can use data to inform efforts to safely reduce the jail population and address racial and ethnic disparities in the criminal justice system,” said Laurie Garduque, director of criminal justice at the McArthur Foundation.

San Francisco the first county in the state to collect data on recidivism rates.

This initiative “raises the bar for criminal justice transparency and we hope other jurisdictions follow suit,” said Evan White, executive director of the California Policy Lab at UC Berkeley.

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