Author: Joshua D. Infante
Julio was raised in a Mid-City-Koreatown neighborhood in Los Angeles as one of six children in a hardworking family. Despite the gang violence in the surrounding streets, his parents taught their children to stay focused on their education and goals. They provided for all six of them without reliance on government assistance, stretching out every paycheck. Even through the agony of incarceration, Julio kept his eyes fixed on the hope his parents gave him, driven by his dream to “take care of them the way they took care of us.”
Coming home after years of incarceration wasn’t easy. “Being home for the first few days was overwhelming. I went through a lot of anxiety,” Julio says. When he left, his parents were walking and working, only to come home to a father in a wheelchair and a mother noticeably softened by time. “I realized how long I was gone,” he says. His parents were relieved just to see him out at all, especially since they felt they never would. “I had moments of happiness, but a lot of overwhelming experiences, too,” Julio says, “and having to adapt to society.”
Finding work wasn’t easy either. “I was searching for jobs, and I couldn’t get anything. Nobody was calling,” Julio says. Just as he was starting to lose hope, a housemate told him to try the Center for Employment Opportunities (CEO). “From day one, they just opened their hearts,” he says. “They made me feel like I could get it done, and they have pushed me ever since.”
Julio found a fresh start after joining a CEO transitional work crew. He earned an income while gaining hands-on experience, supported every step of the way by supervisors and staff who treated him like family. CEO also provided resume assistance, mock interviews, and continuous encouragement from career coaches.
When asked about his proudest moment since coming home, Julio didn't hesitate to reply: “The moment I saw my parents’ face when I told them I was officially hired with a full-time job. That’s the most genuine part: being able to go to my parents and say, ‘I did it!’” He names that same stretch as the clearest turning point. “That was the most positive step that I was able to take in my life after being incarcerated,” he says. “I know I can get a job. That’s when everything started shifting in a positive way for me.”
Julio also remembers another positive incident that shifted his perspective. A mentor who picked him up on his release day had pointed out a Ferrari passing them on the road. “He told me, the only difference between him and you has nothing to do with your past,” Julio recalls. “It has to do with the fact that that guy has information you don’t. Take all the information that is given to you and grow, and your success will follow.” Julio has carried that with him since then, and he hopes to pass it on to others.
Despite the excitement of having a job, Julio still did not have any certifications. If nothing else, he understood the urgency of becoming certified. “I had a career before I went to prison but not a certified career. I was in management all my life,” he says, “but when I saw the help that case managers and career coaches provide, I wanted to do that too.”
Julio’s experience on the transitional work crew laid the groundwork for his next chapter. Seeing the direct impact that support staff had on participants allowed him to set his sights on helping others navigate their own reentry. It wasn’t long before he stepped into that exact role. Today, Julio is a certified career coach at CEO. “Their support and push is what made me want to do that.” He can now draw on his past management experience to guide participants toward steady employment.
Julio is also an advocate for fair chance hiring. “I wish for the general public to understand that just because a person made a mistake doesn’t mean they should be defined by their past” he says. “We have a chance to grow and recover. When people make mistakes, they have the right to fix their lives and turn them around.”
According to Couloute & Kopf (2018), formerly incarcerated people face an unemployment rate of roughly 27 percent, several times higher than the general public. This gap underscores exactly why fair chance programs like CEO exist. This illustrates that Julio’s career path has real significance. In fact, the median annual wage for career counselors was $65,140 as of May 2024, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. “I wouldn’t be here without that push,” Julio says. “They gave me a fair chance, and I ran with it. Now I get to do the same for others.” When employers give justice-impacted individuals a real opportunity, it doesn’t just change one person, it lifts up entire families and communities.
In lifting up his community, Julio ultimately lifted up his own family. What began as a personal effort to rebuild his life transformed into a lasting legacy of service – one that fulfills the promise he made to himself from the very start. While Julio once thought about how he could ever repay his parents, his life today provides that answer. By forging his own path and helping others find theirs, Julio has given his parents what money could never buy: demonstrating that the resilience and hope they gave him was fully returned.
