From mean to clean

By William Kenny
Times Staff Writer

When Jose Rojas got released from a Philadelphia prison many years ago, there were no special programs to help him readapt in relative freedom.
"You got released from the House of Correction and they gave you a token and sixty cents at two o’clock in the morning," said Rojas, who now works with current and former prison inmates as a case manager with Impact Services, a Kensington-based social service organization.
The token was to catch a bus and the change was for a transfer. But once you got to wherever you were going, he explained, it was up to you to fend for yourself.
Rojas went straight to his old stomping grounds at Fifth and Westmoreland streets, bought some crack and got high, "because I didn’t learn anything when I was down."
Apparently, a lot of that goes on in prisons across the country. The most recent comprehensive national study of recidivism by the U.S. Department of Justice found that 52 percent of state prison inmates return to jail within three years of their release, while about two-thirds are arrested for new crimes within the same time span.
The study was based on more than 272,000 inmates released in 1994 from prisons in 15 states, representing two-thirds of all of the nation’s released prison inmates that year. It was the largest recidivism study ever conducted in the United States and showed a 5 percent increase from the rearrest rate recorded by a similar DOJ study 11 years earlier.
In Philadelphia, the rate of return among previously sentenced and released inmates is about 56 percent. With about 8,000 inmates, the Philadelphia Prison System is comparable in size to many state prison systems, but as a county system, its population is mixed between convicts (about 2,700) and those being held while awaiting trial on pending criminal charges.
According to PPS Commissioner Leon A. King III, efforts are under way on the city and national levels to give former inmates something more than a bus token and some change as they head out the prison gates.
By offering them better educational and vocational programs on the inside, then helping them find places to live and work upon their release, the hope is that they’ll break the criminal cycle.
That’s for their own sakes and for society’s.
By some estimates, it costs taxpayers between $20,000 and $50,000 per year to keep one inmate incarcerated, depending on the state or locale. Meanwhile, the economic and emotional costs on victims of the crimes that recidivists commit are immeasurable.
That’s why the Philadelphia Prison System has long offered a variety of rehabilitative programs. But in many ways, the programs have been lacking, according to King.
"We’ve always had programs — educational programs, drug and alcohol programs and inmates being paroled into a (supervision) program," King said.
There have long been many halfway houses and other independent service agencies for ex-cons, too.
"The issue that I see is that there are a lot of efforts going on in the city that aren’t coordinated yet," King said.
According to ex-cons interviewed by the Northeast Times, inmates have plenty of reasons to shun rehabilitation while incarcerated and to return to a life of crime upon release.
Issues range from poverty to peer pressure.
"They want that fast money. And when they try to do it the legal way, the right way, it’s too slow," said Anthony Mathis, 21, who was released on April 7 from a 12-month sentence for theft and receiving stolen property.
Mathis, an Impact Services client, has been in and out of jail since he was 18 mostly for offenses including auto theft, burglary, strong-arm robbery and gun violations. At one point, he received a four-year state prison sentence on a robbery charge but served just 10 months.
"When I got home, I said, ‘Let’s try to sell some drugs.’ Anything to make money," Mathis said.
Another ex-con and Impact Services client, Brian Wright, 26, says he used to make $2,500 in a day selling drugs on the street. He first started it when he was about 16 and has ended up in prison several times.
When you go back home, he explained, it’s easy to fall into the same patterns of behavior with your old friends and family.
"It’s like my mom told me. (There are) those who sincerely show concern for you. And the others, keep them away from you," said Wright, who was paroled on Jan 11 from an 11-1/2 to 23-month sentence for drug convictions.
Some ex-cons find that positive people tend to gravitate away from them.
"When it’s time to come home, everybody don’t have open arms," Wright said. "Their life goes on, too."
Likewise, many employers don’t want to hire ex-cons, and decent-paying jobs are hard to find, anyway, they say.
Something that never seems to go away easily for many ex-cons is drug addiction.
According to Philadelphia Prison System statistics, of all the sentenced criminals taken in by city prisons last year, 38 percent had a drug offense as their highest charge, while drugs were somehow involved in their cases 80 percent of the time.
Because it’s a county system, the vast majority of PPS inmates spend 23 months or less behind bars, which makes it easier for them to "pick up" where they left off when they were arrested.
Philadelphia prison leaders say they are trying to address these challenges by structuring a better continuum of services in training for inmates starting while they’re still behind bars and leading them back into the community.
"A re-entry program is one that’s more structured than haphazardly put together," said Michael Resnick, chief of staff to the prisons commissioner.
"We hire people who follow up with them after they leave (prison). That’s the new way of looking at it."
The PPS averages about 500 admissions and discharges a week.
An example of the "haphazard" approach of the past is the OPTIONS program.
Short for Opportunities for Prevention and Treatment Interventions for Offenders Needing Support, OPTIONS began in 1973, but its scope is focused heavily on helping inmates with drug problems "face their issues," prison spokesman Bob Eskind said.
Similarly, the PPS has had smaller programs such as sex offender counseling, GED classes and its Pennypack School for juvenile inmates. All are purely voluntary.
About a year ago, the PPS created a broader initiative called the JOBS project, funded by a $2.1 million fine levied by Common Pleas Court against the city in 1997 for violations of an earlier consent decree protecting inmates’ rights.
Impact Services, at 1952 E. Allegheny Ave., is one of several agencies contracted by the PPS to go into the prisons and provide various counseling and vocational services. Inmates can learn how to prepare a resume, fill out job applications, go on an interview and answer the question "have you ever been convicted of a felony."
Once the inmate gets out of jail, the same case managers stay involved helping them find housing and a job and offering family counseling. Again, the program is voluntary, but if they find out an ex-con is getting back into trouble they attempt to track him down and provide emergency intervention, including drug treatment if needed and consultation with an assigned parole officer.
At Impact Services, clients generally meet weekly with their case manager.
The fact that some case managers like Rojas and Jason Cosley are also ex-cons often gives them more credibility among those on the inside and outside.
"You have to deal with the whole individual, from A to Z," Cosley said.
"Our primary objective is to keep them from recidivism," Rojas said, "to keep them out here, employed and to be the men they need to be for their families and for society."
The JOBS program is still in its early stages, however.
Impact Services for example, had 138 total clients on the day that the Times visited recently. Of those, 75 had been released from prison, 51 of whom had reported to Impact Services upon their release.
Of those 51, 26 were actively employed at the time.
Wright had recently been laid off from a building maintenance job, while Mathis was looking for employment.
Overall, PPS officials said, there are about 400 inmates in the JOBS program and another 700 in OPTIONS. Though funding will be a challenge in expanding re-entry programs, the prison system is taking initial steps to partner with the community in providing similar services.
In March, prison officials joined with religious leaders, civic group representatives, city agencies, police and other community officials in Frankford for a meeting to discuss potential re-entry partnerships.
"We explained that when inmates come out, they need jobs, housing, some clothes. We said we need you as a community to organize something you could put together to help us," King said.
A recent survey commissioned by the PPS for $175,000 and conducted by the Washington, D.C., based Urban Institute revealed that about 800 ex-inmates settle in Frankford each year because of the neighborhood’s prevalence of drug recovery houses and other services.
The 19124 ZIP code has one of the highest populations of ex-cons in the city and is one of the most diverse neighborhoods demographically, which makes it a good place for the PPS to start building partnerships.
For a follow-up meeting, prison officials hope to get local businesses more involved. They might be able to fund re-entry programs or offer ex-inmates work.
"We’re not asking their help with every inmate," King said. "We’re asking for their help with a portion of those who have expressed a desire." ••
Reporter William Kenny can be reached at 215-354-3031 or bkenny@phillynews.com