Mark Graham’s story is a tale as old as time: An inner city kid gets caught up in his surroundings. It’s not that he was hanging with the wrong crowd, it was the only crowd there was. He spent adolescent years in and out of group homes and eventually petty crimes developed into felony murder charges and a sentence of 20 years to life.

Graham, however, always knew he was in control of his own destiny.

Graham recalls his first experience in rebellion was towards his mother. Graham was born in Brooklyn, but spent a short time being raised in North Carolina. That meant he had an upbringing in the church. But racial tensions contradicted what he was learning and he didn’t feel that he could respect the gospel as it was being told to him.

“I was on Franklin Avenue and Greene Avenue, here in Brooklyn. And I heard this Five-Percenter talking. You know, it’s basically black nationalism. And the things that he was saying really struck me. It hit the core of my being.”

That day Graham came home to his mother and told her his name was “Shamel” and he no longer ate pork, adhering to the Five-Percenters Muslim underpinnings. He had no desire to carry the “slave name” of his ancestors and had found a new religion and new way of life.

“She told me, ‘Listen, your name is Mark Graham. Don’t you come in here and tell me anything other than that. Then she cooked pork for a week.”

But Graham stayed committed to his lifestyle. When his mom saw his determination, she eventually came around to support him. Not cooking him pork, and buying new pots, pans and dishes, as they all had been “contaminated” from previous uses with pork.

Graham described himself as an extremely intelligent student who eventually became bored with school.

“I was learning things in the eighth grade, that I already knew in the fifth,” he said.

He began skipping school and turning to the streets to learn things he didn’t know. And he received a full street education. Graham stopped going to school at 14 and his rebellion became too much for his mother to handle. She would eventually file a PINS (Person In Need of Supervision) petition. With this petition Mark was removed from his mother’s home and put into group homes.

“Those group homes are supposed to deter you from crime and all those things. But that’s where I learned to become a criminal,” he said.

Before going to the group home, Graham describes his crimes with a sort of childish innocence.

“When I went to the group home, the only thing I knew how to do was shoplift, and you know, steal things off of trucks.”

But inside those group homes, he got a full education.

“When I came out of those group homes, I knew about guns, where to get them, how to access weapons. I knew about armed robberies, bank robberies, check cashing.”

Graham was in and out of group homes from age 13 to 16, and he put his street education to use. When he was released and on his own, he came out and murdered a man in the course of a robbery.

At the age of 16, Graham was sentenced to 20 years to life. But at that time he really didn’t comprehend the severity of that sentence.

“When you’re in these group homes, the counselors and others, no one ever said that, listen, you could go to jail for life,” he said.

Even with the prospect of 20 years to life in prison, Graham knew that this couldn’t be his destiny. But it wasn’t because he felt a sense of repentance yet, it was more a sense of ownership of his life and entitlement. Graham describes his time in prison with a sense of pride in his survival. Even today, his reputation while inside precedes him. A visit from his mother was a catalyst to reevaluate who he was and what he was capable of doing.

“She looked at me and said, ‘Mark, I mean Shamel, you’re still Shamel.’ I said, ‘Yea.’”

“She said, ‘You still God.’ I said, ‘Absolutely.’”

“She said, ‘Ok, in another three hours, God, I’m leaving. Let me see you walk through these walls. Let me see you come over here. Because, my God can’t be contained in these walls.”

When his mother said this, it struck him in the same way as those words of the Five-Percenter preaching on the street corner in Brooklyn. This was the pivotal moment, that motivated him to get out of prison. Graham found a way out through education. It wasn’t a straight path, because he was denied release on several occasions. Graham entered prison without even having a GED. Upon release, he earned his Master’s Degree from the New York Theological Seminary.

Throughout his sentence, Graham had been in denial about his crime. In his mind, it wasn’t his intention to kill a man, so it wasn’t his fault. It was until watching a drunk driving PSA of a death of a little girl while incarcerated that he finally came to terms with his responsibility for the loss of someone’s life.

“Throughout the movie, the guy keeps saying it’s not my fault. But someone tells him, if you hadn’t have been drunk and behind the wheel this never would have happened. And in that moment, I heard, ‘Mark, you had no business with a gun. If you didn’t have a gun, this never would have happened.”

In that moment his time in prison, and his quest for release was no longer just about him.

“I said to myself: From this point forward, I’m going to attach everything I do to being a life giver. Because I took a life.”

Before his release he began leading Alternative to Violence groups and other sessions to aid and support his fellow inmates. And when he got out, he knew this work had to continue. In 2007, with just an idea and help from other formerly incarcerated people, Graham opened The Redemption Center.

The Redemption Center, in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, is a transitional home for formerly incarcerated men. While there is no real housing program the residents have to complete, the center offers a stable transition by providing support through stable housing and resources. Residents are expected to follow the basic rules such as curfew and household responsibilities.

The Redemption Center celebrated its 10th anniversary on July 9. While it has been successful in helping formerly incarcerated men with reentry. Finances have been touch and go.

“Based on our finances, there’s no way we’re supposed to be here. This is all attributed to God,” Graham said.

The Redemption Center is still going strong and it is filled to capacity.. Graham is looking forward to being financially stable, by creating a program for residents to generate income to sustain the home.

Creating His Own Redemption was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Incarcerated Women Face Unique Challenges [INFOGRAPHIC] was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Nicole Ann Lee had been in and out of three Ohio county jails before she was sentenced to six months in prison at The Ohio Reformatory for Women, the state institution for convicted female felons.

Lee was 28 when she was convicted of a felony for two counts of drug theft. After an adolescent bout with cancer in her knee, Lee became addicted to pain medication and was caught stealing two Vicodin pills from the hospital where she worked as a nurse.

Now age 39, Lee has been out for 11 years but she was unable to get her nursing license back and she is still struggling to find stability.

“It was my drug problem that got me back in trouble again,” she says.

“When I came back from prison, day one I was using again.”

While there are many conversations and reports about the shortcomings of the American prison industrial complex from high recidivism rates and lack of reentry programs, there is a specific population that gets lost in the conversation: incarcerated women. Women are the fastest growing population in the nation’s prisons and jails yet they have the fewest resources allocated to their release and they face unique challenges compared to their male counterparts.

According to a report by the national non-profit and justice think tank Vera Institute of Justice, 82% of incarcerated women are imprisoned for nonviolent offenses. Studies also show that while incarcerated, women face harsher punishments and sanctions for lower-level infractions than men.

Incarcerated women are, also, more likely to be sexually abused and exploited by correctional staff. Sixty-seven percent of incarcerated women are victims of sexual assault by correctional staff.

“The male [correction officers] would come in and rip open the showers, say that they thought somebody was smoking or having sex in there or whatever,” Lee told me in a phone interview.

“They would just open up the shower curtains and just look.”

If a woman is or does become pregnant while incarcerated, only about one-third will receive prenatal care. This exposes them to many health risks, including miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies. And the women who do have children face strained relationships through lack of custody and visits. A 2017 study by the Urban Institute details how prison visits can be traumatic for children of incarcerated parents, through intrusive searches and lack of physical connection.

“In there, you only had, like, one visit a month, and you had to schedule it and it could be a pain the the butt sometimes. You know, to get it scheduled and make sure everybody could come.”

Like Lee, many incarcerated women show higher rates of mental trauma and addiction prior to incarceration.

“When I got older, my knee really started bothering me, and my doctors started throwing pain pills at me,” she said.

“Because when you have cancer they pretty much want to keep you comfortable.”

But women also have less access to mental health care and rehabilitation programs while in prison. According to a report from Wheelock College, 90–95% of women in prison and jails have trauma in their personal history, which can lead to self medicating with drugs and alcohol.

There is another major hurdle for women who are working towards a successful reentry upon release. There are fewer chances for incarcerated women to take advantage of educational and vocational programs, because such programs are not as readily available as they are in institutions for male prisoners.

“We need education. A lot of women inside don’t have a GED and many times county jails don’t even offer that. They say they do, but I haven’t seen it or heard about it and i’ve been to three different county jails,” Lee said.

While no one believes incarceration sets anyone for a successful future, women face unique personal and institutional barriers while incarcerated and upon release.

The Unique Challenges Incarcerated Women Face was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

As part of my practicum for the Social Journalism program CUNY J-School, I am developing a product to be a solution for a specific community. If you’ve read my posts before, you know that this community is the formerly incarcerated, specifically formerly incarcerated women.

When I embarked on engaging with this community, I was starry eyed as I donned my cape as a social justice warrior. But it wasn’t until the work began that I realized I really needed to listen to my community instead of interjecting my beliefs of what they need onto them.

I started wanting to focus on the formerly incarcerated and provide entrepreneurial solutions for the issue of finding employment with a record.

I interviewed Coss Marte, a formerly incarcerated man who is now the founder and CEO of ConBody gym; a very popular gym, even with a location in Saks Fifth Avenue. Not only does ConBody employ formerly incarcerated men and women, Marte developed a program where he goes inside of prisons to train currently incarcerated people to become personal trainers so that he can hire them upon release.

I profiled Mark Graham, another formerly incarcerated man who founded The Redemption Center in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. The Redemption Center just celebrated its 10th year anniversary of providing transitional housing for men returning home from prison.

I felt like they embodied what I wanted to highlight in my work. Not only were they providing for themselves on their own terms, they were helping the communities from which they came. But throughout my research and reporting I felt this topic was saturated. I didn’t know what new solutions I could provide, because so many are out there. There are plenty of programs and organizations that encourage and promote entrepreneurship among the formerly incarcerated.

However, it wasn’t until I connected and spoke with Kathy Morse that I realized most of these solutions are geared towards men.

Kathy Morse, is a formerly incarcerated woman who has had a successful reentry. She was imprisoned on embezzlement charges, and came home to a pretty stable life upon release. While she didn’t need to rely on prison programs for successful reentry, she knows that they are lacking, especially for women, and how necessary they are.

After speaking with Morse, I became more intrigued with the notion that women are often left out of the conversation of reentry and criminal justice reform overall. More recently, light has been shone on this shortcoming but there is still plenty of work to be done.

But from my research and discussions with other formerly incarcerated people, as someone who is not formerly incarcerated, I should not try to insert myself on the frontline of this work.

So I had to think, what can I offer to this community?

One thing I found interesting throughout my time working with this community is that the resources are available, but they are scattered. For New York City, there is not one central location for information on various programs, organizations or housing options in one place. Or so I thought.

It turns out New York Public Library publishes an annual directory book called Connections. This is a comprehensive compilation of all resources in New York City, most are specifically dedicated to reentry, some are open to everyone.

Connections is a hard copy, paperback book, with limited prints available. While these are able to be inside prisons as a resource for incarcerated people, it could also serve as a resource for friends, family members and other people looking to aide someone who may be released from prison soon. However, most people may not be able to access or even know about this book.

This is the problem I wanted to solve.

My product started out as a reentry roadmap of sorts. It was an online platform where users selected different options that fit their criteria that yielded results. Take a look at the path below:

Get started:

Let’s say the person chose housing.

They would then chose a gender: female.

Results yielded:

After creating this prototype I felt there could be a more efficient process. So I tapped into my background as a real estate agent.

What if people could curate customized lists of resources, based on their desires and other criteria? Like one would do when searching for an apartment.

Instead of choosing “laundry in building” or “pets allowed,” one could choose “family lawyer,” “substance abuse programs,” or “employment options.”

The product will be called “On Your Own Reentry” because, while the organizations and resources aid in successful transition, people are finding these places on their own. Which, I think, gives a sense of independence.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of access to technology in prisons, my product would be people for people already released, as well as community members looking help people who are still incarcerated.

For this product reach the intended community, I would partner with nonprofits already doing the work of reentry, such as The Fortune Society, Hour Children, The Osborne Association, among others. This may be a challenge. Because nonprofits are held to certain standards, partnering may not be as easy as I think.

While I will be working with nonprofits, On Your Own Reentry will need to generate revenue. For that, I considered options of advertising and memberships for nonprofits. But I’m not sure what the incentive would be.

While it feels like I've done a lot of work thus far, I’m still at the beginning. The next step is to gain insight on user experience through focus groups with formerly incarcerated people, their loved ones, or anyone who helps them gain access to resources and implement any feedback.

I’ve developed a virtual focus group, where you can view the whole prototype and leave feedback.

New York City needs a database for reentry services. I want to build it. was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

When Topeka K. Sam came home after being imprisoned for three years, she knew her transition would be uncomfortable but fairly easy.

“Back in prison I realized I would have a house to go to. I had my parents, which was a safe space for me,” said Sam, who was released from the Federal Correction Institution in Danbury, Connecticut two years ago.

“For me, it wasn’t the most ideal because I was being released at 40,” she said of going back to living with her parents in Harlem, New York.

“It was a little stressful in many ways.”

But she knew that others weren’t so fortunate. While still incarcerated, she had a vision to help her fellow “sisters,” who may not have such a strong support system.

That vision will be realized later this month, when Hope House, transitional housing for formerly incarcerated women located in a quiet section of the Bronx has an Oct. 28 open house and formal opening.

Hope House is the housing arm of The Ladies of Hope Ministries, Sam’s initiative to provide many resources for formerly incarcerated women.

“During my journey, I noticed after speaking to my sisters and finding out what brought them to incarceration and what they had coming home, that a lot of people were being released with less support than I [had].”

A new report from John Jay Prisoner Reentry Institute highlights the difficulties people face when attempting to obtain affordable housing with a criminal record. According to the report:

“Private housing typically requires credit checks, prior landlord references, and hefty deposits, putting it out of reach for people with criminal justice histories, who may be without a job or savings, have no credit history or bad credit, and who are facing stiff payments for criminal justice fines and fees.”

Since being released, Sam hit the ground running to bring her plans to provide support and housing to fruition.

She’s received fellowships from organizations such as Beyond the Bars and the Open Society Foundations, as well as being named a Justice in Education Scholar at Columbia University.

Sam is also a member of the National Council for Incarcerated and Formerly Incarcerated Women and Girls. More commonly known as The National Council.

The National Council gave her the boost of support to make her dreams of opening a transitional home a reality.

“Through The National Council I was told to meet with Susan Burton who had been doing houses for [formerly incarcerated] women in California for some 20 years,” said Sam.

Susan Burton is a member of The National Council and the Founder and Executive Director of A New Way of Life Reentry Project based in Los Angeles, California. She is also a formerly incarcerated woman.

“She really wanted to see a network of safe housing spaces around the country,” Sam said.

Through guidance and mentorship, Sam was able to follow Burton’s blueprint of creating transitional housing for formerly incarcerated women.

Besides stable housing, Sam plans on providing a variety of programs and services, including career training and advocacy for women being released from prison.

“We’re going to be having a Speaker’s Bureau. Teaching women to speak and political education. So when they speak they know exactly what they’re talking about,” Sam said.

Hope House is a one-year, transitional home for formerly incarcerated women and girls. Those who apply will go through an assessment and interview process, and will need to provide references before they can don the official title of “House Guest.”

While there are plans for providing spaces for women and their children, Hope House will cater to single women and girls.

“We decided to focus on single women first,” Sam said.

“There are housing opportunities mostly for women with children but not many for women without.”

Formerly Incarcerated Woman Builds Hope in the Bronx was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

How does a college-educated, Brooklyn native end up living in subsidized housing in the Bronx?

She went to prison. Rose Ford’s entire life was uprooted after spending eight years incarcerated.

“I had to win back my family. When you go to prison, you lose everything you love. You lose your house, your dog, your cat. You lose everything,” Ford said.

Ford is a formerly incarcerated woman in her 60s who describes how her life went off rails when she took a “wrong U-turn” in life.

“I made a mistake by doing drugs and alcohol. I got locked up in my late forties. I waited till an old age to play a jackass.”

After serving eight years and eight months, Ford was released with a placement at a halfway house and just enough resources to try to piece her life together. Like many transitional housing options, there are certain restrictions that candidates and residents must adhere to, to maintain their place. Unfortunately, Ford said her stint at the halfway house didn’t last long.

“I didn’t stay in the halfway house long because I had a couple a drinks. When you don’t follow the rules you get kicked out. Then I went into a shelter.”

Through the homeless shelter system, Ford was able to find stable housing within six months from release. It’s been about eight years since Ford returned to society and did not recidivate, meaning she did not return to prison.

Diana McHugh is the Director of Communications at the Women’s Prison Association, she says stable housing is essential in reducing recidivism rates.

“Finding safe, secure and stable permanent housing is essential in stabilizing formerly incarcerated individuals and helping them become self-sufficient, which is critical for successful reentry.”

There are some people who have a support system when they return home, but some, like Ford, have to acclimate by themselves end up homeless increasing their chances of rearrest.

A 2016 study published by the New York City Criminal Justice Agency shows a snapshot of an analysis done three years prior on how homelessness affects rearrest rates in New York City. To begin, researcher Richard Peterson, Ph.D and his team classified homeless status in three different categories: street homeless, shelter homeless and non-homeless. Street homeless means at the time of any arrest in 2013 a person reported being street homeless, even if at another time they reported a different status. Shelter homeless describes a person who reported being shelter homeless at the time of any arrest in 2013, but never street homeless. Non-homeless describes a person who never reported being homeless at the time of any arrest in 2013.

The study labels the people they studied as defendants and shows that defendants who ever held a status of being homeless during 2013 were arrested at higher rates than those who were non-homeless.

“About 60% of the street homeless were rearrested within one year, compared to 50% of the shelter homeless, and 29% of non-homeless defendants (Figure 2). The street homeless also had the highest rates of felony re-arrest (24%), followed by the shelter homeless (19%) and the non-homeless (13%). There were only small differences in the rates of re-arrest for a violent felony offense (VFO), which ranged between 5% and 6%.”

The report also highlights the fact that most homeless defendants were rearrested in the same borough and precinct where they were originally arrested — mostly in Manhattan.

Peterson said that many homeless typically stay in the same area of familiarity, but also opportunity.

“If you look at the precincts, particularly, there’s a lot of midtown south. Times Square, Macy’s, a lot of traffic and tourists. If you want to panhandle, that’s the place to do it.”

The report also analyzed predictors of re-arrest rates among street and shelter homeless individuals. The top three predictors of re-arrest were number of prior misdemeanors, age, and gender. Interestingly, the defendant’s race or ethnicity was least likely to predict their chances of rearrest.

Peterson said, once someone is homeless he doubts race or ethnicity matters in arrests.

“It’s more about what they’re doing. Where they’re doing it and how much they attract the attention of the police.”

Overall, homeless status predicted higher re-arrest rates for most types of charges. Street and shelter homeless defendants were rearrested at higher rates than non-homeless for “local law” offenses. These offenses include violations such as fare-beating, panhandling, park rules and health code violations. Other serious charges such as burglary and weapons charges had low rates of rearrests across all groups.

Peterson says the type of charge associated with the arrest shows more about policing tactics than actual crime among the homeless. A tactic similar to the controversial Broken Windows policing.

“The kinds of things homeless people get arrested for are the kinds of things most other people wouldn’t get arrested for. Taking up two seats on the subway because they’re laying down, or being in a park after dark.”

Something to note — shelter homeless defendants had higher rearrest rates for harm to persons. While not detailed in this report this could be related to reported dangers of living in homeless shelters. The New York Daily news states that thousands of homeless are in fear of “being beaten, robbed, or stabbed in a city shelter.”

The Department of Homeless Services’ 2017 financial report shows that the city is investing to rectify this issue. The department is allocating $20 million for “NYPD administered training for shelter security personnel and 78 new DHS peace officers to oversee security.”

As this report shows, there are many factors that can predict rearrest rates among both the homeless and non-homeless. But the main implication in reducing recidivism rates, as in Ford’s case, is the ability to find stable housing options.

Shelter dangers and Broken Windows policing can be tied to high rates of rearrests among New York… was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

In recent years, criminal justice reform has become a hot button topic. From President Obama’s ban on private prisons, to New York state’s new proposal of the 2017 Criminal Justice Reform Act, it seems that America is finally taking it’s problem of mass incarceration seriously.

On July 11, Senators Cory Booker and Elizabeth Warren introduced the Dignity for Incarcerated Women Act. This bill includes changes in standards such as free sanitary napkins and ending the shackling of women when they go into labor.

While all criminal justice reform efforts are moves in the right direction, to really make change effective politicians and policy makers must include those closest to the issue: people who were formerly incarcerated.

I spoke with two people who served time in prison and are now making their voices heard.

Khalil Cumberbatch, who spent almost seven years incarcerated, is a criminal justice advocate and Manager of Trainings at JustLeadershipUSA, a national organization that supports and educates people who were formerly incarcerated on getting involved in criminal justice reform.

Chandra Bozelko, a blogger and emerging journalist who was incarcerated for a little more than seven years in prison, uses her writing skills to shine light on the shortcomings of criminal justice reform.

Listen to what they have to say about the importance of having people who were formerly incarcerated involved in these conversations and legislation.

Why the formerly incarcerated need to be involved in criminal justice reform [AUDIO REPORT] was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Up to 60 and 75 percent of former inmates are unemployed within a year of release. This finding is according to a survey by the National Institute of Justice. It is not a secret that employment discrimination occurs, especially when one has a criminal record. So much so, that President Obama implemented a “ban the box” regulation in 2016, in reference to disclosing the status of a criminal record on a job application.

Efforts to get formerly incarcerated people to work are essential to the success of the reentry process. Sophie Whitin, of the New York State Council on Community Reentry and Reintegration says getting a job is a step to normalcy for formerly incarcerated people.

“When they get out, there are a lot of institutions they are excluded from. They can feel like they are a subclass. A job is a way to get back into society,” Whitin said.

There are many reentry programs available for former inmates to use as resources to get back on their feet. Many are solely focused on employment and entrepreneurial endeavors. And maybe with the implementation of banning the box, the high rate of unemployment may be reduced.

But many reentry programs focus on the inmates return to society after they are already released from prison. What steps are in place to prepare them while they are still incarcerated?

This is the question from Hearken user, Akeem Morrow.

A formerly incarcerated woman, Kathy Morse says none. Especially not for women.

“There are programs like Fortune Society and Exodus but how they operate is you come see us when you get out. We don’t go to you.”

Fortune Society’s website states they have a pre-release program on Rikers Island that prepares men and women for release and support after. The I-CAN program is at Rikers Island facility and Fortune Society plans to expand the program to prisons throughout New York City.

Morse, who spent time in Rikers and upstate facilities on embezzlement charges, says the I-CAN program pales in comparison to the post release program and is geared more towards men.

“All of these programs are geared towards men. The only thing that offers women reentry help and housing is Hour Children in Long Island City.”

But Hour Children doesn’t offer housing to women without children, and many find themselves in homeless shelters.

Morse, who also works for Petey Greene an educational organization that provides tutors to those who are currently incarcerated, said reentry and educational programs serve different purposes.

“There’s not even programs to help you catch up to technology. Someone getting an education will still need help knowing how to apply for jobs. Everything is online these days.”

In prison programs are important for successful reentry, but they seem to start too late and fall short for those who need it most. There has to be a deliberate intention to prepare for reentry when someone is initially incarcerated.

Reentry should start before release, but it rarely does. was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

When I was accepted into the Social Journalism program at CUNY J-School, I came with my community and possible solution in mind. My community was meant to be the formerly incarcerated. I thought a focus on entrepreneurship would solve the problem of financial issues caused by issues with employment due to having a record. Even though, the whole point of Social Journalism is to come with an open mind and listening ear rather than your own ideas, I figured I’d get ahead of the game. Wrong idea. I wasn’t totally off track, but projected my own ideas of what I thought my community needed. And I still think I have a great idea, but it’s not what is needed now.

Successful reentry is dependent on many factors, including one’s own desire for a different lifestyle upon release. So there is no blanket solution, but any effort is better than none at all. Throughout the semester I was fortunate enough to spend time with a few members of this community.

Coss Marte, who spent four years in prison on drug charges, is the founder and CEO of Conbody, which just opened a new location in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Mark Graham, was serving 20 years to life when he was released in 2001. In 2007, he opened The Redemption Center, a home for former inmates to make the transition to successful reentry.

Kathy Morse’s story is featured Bill Moyer’s documentary RIKERS: An American Jail. She served time for embezzlement charges. Morse is currently the Regional Assistant Manager at The Peetey Greene program, which provides tutoring and educational services for incarcerated students.

Marte, Graham, and Morse were fortunate to have been successful with reentry, but they don’t attribute that to any help they received inside. Most programs accept participants who have already been released.

Morse brought up an issue with intersectionality for reentry programs.

“All of these programs are geared towards men. The only thing that offers women reentry help and housing is Hour Children in Long Island City,” she said. But Hour Children doesn’t offer housing to women without children, and many find themselves in homeless shelters.

Prisons provide a variety of programs for incarcerated men and women, such as educational and arts programs, but nothing teaching practical knowledge and skill for reentry. When they go inside, life stands still for them, but even the smallest advancement in life can be a major setback for important efforts.

“There’s not even programs to help you catch up to technology. Someone getting an education will still need help knowing how to apply for jobs. Everything is online these days,” Morse said.

Looking back over research and my interaction with people in this community, has shown me entrepreneurship is somewhat of an extracurricular effort to the process of reentry. Yes it would help, but there are more basic, immediate needs that need to be met.

But what are they, and what can I do or think up by December to really make a difference?

So here is where I redefine my community. Women in prison face many challenges while incarcerated, including safety and hygiene. And upon release many may find themselves in shelters while trying to get back on their feet. Women of the criminal justice system are in special need of advocates, so I will take the rest of my time in this program focusing on incarcerated and formerly incarcerated women.

The process of learning about my community has gone well thus far and I’m looking forward to learning more and finding solutions for this population.

While I know this won’t be an easy feat, I plan to implement the skills and tools I learned in our Community Engagement course such as Purple to reach and be accessible to my community.

You think you know, but you have no idea: My community, redefined. was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

There was a rap on the door of Café Henrie.

It was a young man waving at Coss Marte who is still a figure in his Lower East Side community, but a far cry from the drug kingpin he used to be. Now he’s the Founder and CEO of ConBody, a fitness and athletic company he developed during his four years in prison.

”I used to stash drugs in his diapers…now he’s all grown up,” he said in a tone of disbelief.

At the young age of 31, it seems as though Marte could’ve lived several lives. His mother immigrated to the United States from the Dominican Republic, when she was six months pregnant with him. His family settled into lower Manhattan, and his gym sits across the street from the apartment building he grew up in and a few blocks away from where he currently lives. According to Marte, the neighborhood wasn’t as safe as it is today, but it was more of a community.

“It wasn’t a pretty neighborhood back then. But it was a place where everybody knew each other and of you were from around the neighborhood you felt safe.”

Marte remembers times when his mother had to run errands, she would leave him in the park or hanging on the corner with guys from the neighborhood.

“That’s how I got into drugs, just watching the guys on the block just hustling. They had the money, and girls, the cars. I just looked up to them.”

Marte’s combined admiration and work ethic landed him a multi million dollar income as a drug dealer by the age of 19, but it also landed him with prison sentence of seven years. When he entered prison, doctors said he may not live through his full sentence. At 5’8” and 230 pounds, he was prone to serious health issues including a heart attack.

Marte didn’t want to die in prison, so he began working out in his cell. “I lost 70 pounds in six months,” Marte said. He kept track of his routines and developed a fitness plan. “I helped 20 inmates lose 1,000 pounds combined.”

After serving four years, he was released. Marte knew he didn’t want to go back to his street life, but needed an income.

“I went to knocking on the doors of hundreds of companies, but a lot of people shut it in my face because of my record.”

Sophie Whitin, of the New York State Council on Community Reentry and Reintegration and former employee of Exodus Transitional, says while New York upholds the Fair Chance Act. This act that makes it illegal for most employers to ask about the criminal record of an applicant before a job offer,

“When they get out, there are a lot of institutions they are excluded from they can feel like they are a subclass. A job is a way to get back into society,” she said.

Unfortunately, the Fair Chance Act wasn’t in place when Marte was looking for employment.

With this obstacle, Marte knew the best bet was on himself. He started his personal training business by getting clients working out at the park in his neighborhood and using the workouts he created while he was in prison.

His participation in reentry programs led him to gain the support Defy Ventures, an organization that gives a crash course in business development and funding to those who were formerly incarcerated. Marte said, “They feel that illegal entrepreneurs can become legal entrepreneurs, we have the same business skills we just need to transfer them over.”

ConBody has been in business for three years. With 16 employees, ten are trainers, including former inmates. They have had 10,000 people who completed the program through membership or single classes. Marte continues to look toward the future, but also wants to reach back to people who’ve been in his shoes.

“Now we’re going back into jails and prisons and speaking to inmates. We’re working on a training program, where we’re going to be training formerly incarcerated people to become fitness instructors.”

Marte was able to transfer his street hustling skills to build a successful business and stable lifestyle. Now he plans to help others with their own transition.

The Transfer of Skills- From Drug Kingpin to Fitness Guru was originally published in Valiance on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.