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I often hear people say: “The people who are closest to the problem are also closest to the solutions.” People with decision-making titles are often eager to amplify the embodied wisdom of survivors; yet, those leadership positions remain occupied by allies in the fight for social justice rather than the directly-impacted veterans beside them. The gap between rhetoric and reality is reinforced everyday in the nonprofit-industrial-complex. When it comes to college programs in New York prisons, the chasm is quietly turning into an echo chamber. This text is food for thought.
New York passed Proposition 1 on November 2, 2024. This amendment to the State Constitution, effectively expands constitutional protections against discrimination. While anti-discrimination protections already existed in various federal, state and local laws, this amendment lowers barriers and raises stakes. Experts say new theoretical legal arguments are likely to follow the implementation of these new provisions. In the next couple of years, Courts will decide cases that set new precedents in New York. The Equal Rights Amendment, passed 60 years after the Civil Rights Act that created protected classes, does more than just reinforce existing protections–it reminds us that those protections exist in the first place. Maybe people will pay more attention to the potential consequences of forcing job applicants to undergo a DOCCS volunteer application prior to a conditional offer of employment. Law and Hiring Practices
The Department of Corrections and Community Supervision (DOCCS) requires volunteer applicants to disclose personal information (e.g., age, gender, sex, marital status, etc.). This violates anti-discrimination legislation, both old and new. It may seem easier to bury one's head in the sand, but if campuses continue to look the other way–college in prison programs will face more than theoretical arguments. They run the risk of legal action, individually and as the target of a class action for inclusion will be infused with the embodied wisdom of Jailhouse Lawyers. That challenge should not be taken lightly. The Prison Litigation Reform Act of 1996 does not apply to formerly incarcerated community members. When we are released from prison, we regain our right to access the courts like everyone else.
In response to New York's expanded Equal Rights Amendment, institutions must take proactive steps toward compliance and transformation. Organizations should revise hiring practices by conducting independent screenings and extending offers based on qualifications before addressing access requirements. Legal compliance demands the elimination of questions about protected characteristics and full implementation of Ban-the-Box laws, delaying background checks until after conditional offers. Enhanced transparency requires documented interview notes, hiring deliberations, and clear explanations for decisions to protect against discrimination claims. These measures ensure alignment with the constitutional protections taking effect January 1, 2025. Conclusion Current hiring practices are jeopardizing the future of college in prison in New York State. The problematic questions raised by DOCCS volunteer application process are creating an identifiable pattern that will require disclosure in a court of law. Campuses are making themselves unnecessarily vulnerable by capitulating to the pressure of prison administrations. By failing to align with state and federal protections, institutions jeopardize their mission to provide transformative education and expose themselves to potential lawsuits. If you are a champion of college in prison programming, think about how your campus administration would respond to a class action lawsuit costing the college millions of dollars. Immediate action is essential to protect against legal challenges and ensure these programs fulfill their public promises.
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In the shadows of prison walls, a quiet revolution is brewing - one that seeks to transform the very essence of how we welcome those who've experienced incarceration back into our communities.
 Restorative Justice, much like its retributive relative–criminal justice– represents a conflict resolution ideal. Punishment has proven to be a viable method of social control. It has not, however, proven to be a system that leads to safety. Despite its shortfalls, state sanctioned violence does seem to deter personal vendettas between people of European descent. It does not resonate as well with people from non-European cultures, hence the cycles of interpersonal violence in culturally specific contexts. As an ancestor of mine, Eddie Ellis, would often remind people: There are no prison problems. Those problems have been transplanted from the community and concentrated within the confines of a correctional facility. Restorative Practices (RPs) are often indigenous, predating capitalism and developing along a diachronically different timeline. RPs depart, drastically, from the traditions of torture and public execution embodied by people from European descent. For contemporary practitioners of restorative justice such as myself, we see RPs as the Due Process of Dignity. We hold how we handle things up, to stand in stark contrast to the facades of Due Process of Law we face. While the criminal legal system is designed to prioritize efficiency and finality, restorative justice requires more of an emergent mindset. It is about recognizing the validity of conflicting truths and creating a space when everyone involved can show up as their authentic selves. It relies on a horizontal power structure. The entire community of stakeholders has a say in what happens during each phase of the process. There are no authorities, only individuals equally invested in repairing harm. The outcomes rely on the wisdom of our ancestors. In many instances, we need only remember how to respect one another. Restorative justice seeks to develop patterns of thinking and speaking with one another that foster understanding, healing, and accountability without fear. The place people emerge from this process, is the place people find common ground. Restorative systems typically involve exercises structured to emphasize shared understanding and healing. RPs often take place in a circle, using a talking piece, where each participant has a chance to be heard. These best practices may (or may not) result in apologies, remedial actions, or other forms of accountability. Other RPs are used proactively to grow cultural norms of belonging and reinforce the understanding that all members of a given community—including their voices—are valued. Despite their potential, RPs remain underutilized in the reentry process for formerly incarcerated individuals and the communities they return to. As someone who has navigated this journey, I’ve experienced firsthand the profound impact of these practices, which provide a crucial space to process the deep-seated traumas induced by the prison experience. The constant assault on our humanity within correctional facilities often leads to internalized dehumanization—a survival mechanism that, while necessary behind bars, becomes a barrier to reintegration upon release. RPs offer a safe environment to unpack these experiences, allowing us to reconnect with our inherent worth and dignity, highlighting the missed opportunities in our current system. Through guided dialogues and community circles, we can begin to address the deep harms endured during incarceration. These might include lost time with family, missed educational or career opportunities, or the lasting impact of violence witnessed and/or experienced. While these losses can never be fully restored, acknowledging them in a supportive setting is a crucial step in the healing process. Restorative practices also provide a platform to deconstruct the negative narratives we’ve internalized. In prison, we often compartmentalize our humanity as a form of self-protection. These adaptations, necessary for survival in a challenging environment, can become deeply ingrained. Restorative practices help us shed these protective layers, like a tree shedding its old bark, allowing our authentic selves to re-emerge and fostering healthier ways of relating to others and ourselves. Moreover, these practices allow us to take meaningful responsibility for our past actions. Unlike the traditional system, which often leaves us disconnected from the harm we’ve caused, restorative practices enable direct engagement with those we’ve hurt. This accountability is not about punishment, but about understanding impact and committing to positive change. Restorative justice is designed to reach a place where everyone feels justice has been served. In contrast, the criminal legal system will allow an innocent man to languish in prison rather than overturn a final decision. The criminal legal system prioritizes efficiency and finality, whereas restorative justice prioritizes understanding and healing. In the workplace and broader community, RPs address the unique challenges faced by formerly incarcerated individuals while revealing the hidden costs of incarceration to society. These practices foster open dialogue about concerns, misconceptions, and past traumas, promoting more inclusive and supportive environments. By facilitating these conversations, communities gain insight into the complex realities of reentry, leading to the development of more effective support systems, from job training programs to mental health resources. In the workplace specifically, RPs help address issues such as limited work history and the stigma associated with a criminal record. They also aid in navigating the subtle social dynamics that arise when integrating formerly incarcerated individuals into a team. By cultivating a culture of openness and understanding, these approaches not only ease the reintegration process but also enrich the workplace with diverse perspectives and experiences. It’s like planting seeds of understanding in fertile soil, nurturing them to grow into a garden of mutual respect and collaboration. By embracing RPs, we create a cycle of healing and growth. Formerly incarcerated individuals find pathways to process trauma, reclaim their humanity, and reintegrate into society. Communities gain restored relationships, increased safety, and the rich contributions of all their members. This enhances our collective ability to rebuild lives, strengthen community bonds, and contribute positively to society. To fully realize these benefits, we need systemic support for RPs at all levels—in our criminal legal system, our schools, our workplaces, and our communities. By investing in these underutilized approaches, we invest in the potential of every individual to heal and transform, and in the capacity of our communities to become more just, compassionate, and whole. Jose Pineda |
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