Job Fair

Something new happened at Lunenburg yesterday.  That in itself is surprising.  The thing about prison that is most difficult to bear is the time, the monotonous rolling forward of time.  Day in and day out there are the same announcements at the same time.  Days repeat days; weeks repeat weeks.  And years?  You watch the calendar click.  It’s maddening.  You live your life almost like Bill Murray did in “Groundhog Day”.  If you’re smart, you avoid the temptation to get comfortable with the monotony.  You design your day according to your needs.  You exercise your mind – and your body – and you resist the urge to be institutionalized.  And, in spite of the drudgery, you remain – at least in your mind – free.

Every so often, however, a day comes along which reminds you the monotony can be broken.  College graduation was one such day and the joy, the freedom I felt that Friday in January has sustained me.  Yesterday was another such day.  Yesterday, the LUCC Transition teacher and his aides sponsored a job fair for approximately 100 inmates who leave in the next 90 days.

This was not your typical job fair.  For one thing the majority of employers were contractors.  Second, there was an emphasis on mini-workshops with the Virginia Employment Commission and various non-profit organizations who assist released felons with a myriad of re-entry issues.

I was asked to attend to assist our Goodwill rep who was meeting with twelve of our IT grads who leave within the next 60 days.  It was remarkable seeing these men, resumes and portfolios (of programs completed) in hand looking a potential employer in the face and answering truthfully about their crime, their incarceration and their skills.

And I learned a few things.  First, there is a national fidelity bond that is free to an employer – providing $5000 (more is available for a small premium) of coverage for employee dishonesty – who hires a convicted felon.  “Even applies to a disbarred attorney convicted of embezzlement.”

Second, a significant number of released felons may be eligible for disability payments.  Extensive periods of incarceration may cause post-traumatic stress disorder.  It seems ironic but the “system” designed to encourage responsible behavior is, in fact, one of the main causes of PTSD and anti-social behavior.  Prisons are viscous, filthy, Darwinian environments.  It should come as no surprise that they do not encourage rehabilitation but promote the opposite.

Third, there are employers willing to give ex-cons a second chance.  One recruiter with a national construction firm told me “God gave me a second chance.  How could I not do the same thing?”  A few guys with significant construction training (and licenses earned while here) were made offers.  A few more were told to “stay in touch”.  The results weren’t great, but there was hope.  And in a place like this hope sometimes is all it takes to get you through.

The job fair wasn’t like anything experienced “out there”.  Recruiters had to clear security.  Guys had to be screened to get in.  There was a two and a half hour window to get the entire program in before 11:30 count.  And, it wasn’t some DOC initiative, some project spurred on by Governor McDonnell’s “re-entry initiative”.  It was the brainchild of this institution’s transition instructor, “Mr. Nick”, a twenty-five year veteran of the DOC prison re-entry process.  Mr. Nick believes in the power of hope.  His four aides – two of whom are college students I tutor – carry out his instructions.  Their goal:  to give every exiting inmate a chance at work after release.

Prison is a terrible experience.  It goes against every human emotion and is counterproductive for changing most lawbreakers into “good citizens”.  And against that backdrop Don Quixote – like men and women still launch themselves against the windmills of hopelessness and recidivism.  They believe a man with a job, a man with an education, can succeed.

We need more job fair days, more college graduation days, more days of hope and less groundhog days.