Participant Stories

Fernando spent his early childhood in the Dallas, Texas, area before moving to California around the sixth grade. He remembers growing up with his brother in a happy home, raised by a mother who always managed to keep a roof over their heads.

Talking to Talasha, one of the first things she shares is how proud she is of her children. She glows when talking about her daughter, a high school student who earns straight A’s and performs as a majorette in the school band, as well as her 17-year-old son, who is actively pursuing his own goals and finding his path forward. Today, she is focused on rebuilding a stable foundation for her family and setting her sights on a future in corporate leadership.

Coming home on October 1, 2024, I knew that reentering society would be a job in itself. I had all my paperwork ready and followed every rule I was supposed to follow. Yet, despite calling and following up constantly, I didn't receive benefits until mid-December. That two-and-a-half-month wait was a stark reminder of how hard this path would be. Programs like Medicaid are essential to people like me who cannot afford healthcare in an economy where basic medical costs are dangerously high.

According to the Sentencing Project, nearly half of the 1.9 million incarcerated people in America are parents. This means that when someone is released, it’s not just a personal milestone – it’s a family reunion that requires immediate stability. For fathers like Jose, coming home means facing the responsibility of supporting children right away, with no savings, no cushion, and no time to wait for help.

For many people leaving incarceration, health coverage is not just a benefit – it is a lifeline. Without it, accessing mental health care, medication, and the stability needed to rebuild a life becomes nearly impossible. For Anthony, Medi-Cal made all the difference.

The transition back to society isn't a single step; it is a grueling, daily trek up a steep mountain. For me, that climb has been defined by a system that feels designed to watch me slide backward, rather than help me reach the top.

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.”

When Anthony moved into a halfway house in Pittsburgh three years ago, he wasn’t sure what would come next. On his second day there, he saw a posting on the bulletin board in the kitchen for the Center for Employment Opportunities (CEO) – suddenly he knew he had found direction.

By the time Jerry turned 18, his life in Louisville, Kentucky had already been shaped by poverty and the crack epidemic that swept through his neighborhood. He started selling drugs at 15, was expelled from school for carrying a beeper, and soon after was arrested for robbery. Several state prison sentences followed over the years– a pattern that could have easily defined him.

Chanise is the sixth generation of her family to call Colorado home. Growing up in Denver, she dreamed of becoming an artist and helping young people see different possibilities. In her youth, she was surrounded by a supportive family and community. But after turning 18, her life took a painful turn.

Talking to Jeremy, one of the first things he will share is how proud he is of his daughter, and his joy for her blossoming career as a wrestler with aspirations of making her way to the WWE. He is proud that he is able to provide for his kids, grandchildren, has a beautiful apartment and the 401K he always imagined. What is harder to imagine is that this joyful, grateful man spent a good chunk of adulthood incarcerated. With his final bid he made a choice to dedicate over a year to his mental health and self improvement in an intensive cognitive behavioral therapy program and halfway house before feeling ready to be the best man he could be and return to his family. Today, he considers it a privilege to stay current on his child support, but even more so to be an active, present force in the lives of his children and grandchildren.

Oscar missed several pivotal years of his sons’ lives, serving two prison terms that totaled nearly a decade. Coming home was not easy. He faced near-homelessness and struggled to put gas in his car. In fact, he often relied on bus passes from the probation office to travel to job interviews. He simply couldn’t afford the fuel to navigate LA traffic.