Ex-felons face obstacles when seeking jobs

EDITOR'S NOTE: This story is the third in an occasional series about the difficulties ex-felons face in Missouri. Each year, about 20,000 felons are released from prison but face roadblocks in re-entering society, particularly the workforce.

Once a felon completes his sentence, his debt to society is considered paid in the eyes of the law.

Despite steps felons may have taken to better themselves in prison, they still face another obstacle after their release: employers reluctant to hire them.

Protocols are in place to protect employers, however, who let those who have been incarcerated come to work for them.

"We have an obligation as federal officers to notify people of third-party risk," said supervising U.S. probation officer Brian Gray in Cape Girardeau. "So we will not allow someone to work in a field that poses a signifanct risk to the employer."

Gray used the example of someone who has been convicted of embezzlement but wants to work at a bank.

"We may or may not permit that, but we would certainly make sure that the employer is aware of that conviction," Gray said. "We would never let someone convicted of a sex offense, obviously, work at a day care or something like that."

He said parole officers have an obligation to work with employers to find jobs for inmates without putting members of the community in danger.

"... We've made presentations at the Workforce Investment Board, we've made presentations to the local chamber of commerce and other area groups that we want to work with the employers. And we don't just want to get [convicts] a job; we want to get them a job where they're interested in it and also that keeps the community safe."

June O'Dell of the Workforce Investment Board said each career center is assigned certain companies, so career counselors are on the lookout for people whose skills fit a company's needs.

"There are companies that cannot or will not accept folks, but there is a huge list that will," O'Dell said.

Shawn Waters, co-owner of Bening Motor Co. of Leadington, Missouri, says he's hired "a lot of good people and a lot of bad people in the past five years," and he had some advice for employers hesitant to hire felons: "Don't judge a person by what they've done, judge them by what you see in front of you. We've all broke the law and made mistakes. ... I'd say just judge the man or woman sitting in front of you, not the person somebody's told you about, or the person that you've heard about."

Waters is in a unique position to dispense such advice: He once was in prison himself.

'That guy'

Waters can't point to one thing in particular that changed the way he looked at life during his incarceration.

"I reflected back on my life and all the things that I had done and all the people that had told me, 'You got so much talent, you could do anything.' And here I was, sitting in prison."

Waters is a Scott County native who graduated Kelly High School in May 1986. He was sentenced to 121 months in prison on federal drug charges in April 2001. After spending a year at the federal prison in Springfield, Missouri, Waters was transferred to a federal prison camp at Marion, Illinois. It was about two years into his term at Marion he started to change his way of thinking.

"I wanted to be that guy I was before I started using drugs," Waters said. "I liked this guy that I remembered in my past when I was younger. And I just wanted to be that guy again that everybody liked that was a good person."

Waters said he called his mother to come see him. During her visit, he laid out everything over six or seven hours -- everything he'd lied about, everything he'd done she didn't know about.

"There was ... a lot of crying. There was some laughing when I told her that that dent that she had in the side of her '94 Monte Carlo didn't happen at J.C. Penney parking lot; I drove it at night when she didn't know about it."

Waters said he just wanted to be honest with somebody.

"Drugs [make] you a liar -- not only to the people you know, but more importantly to yourself," Waters said. "... I lied so much, I didn't know the truth from a lie anymore."

Safeguards

Two protections for companies that hire felons are the Work Opportunity Tax Credit and the Federal Bonding Program.

The Work Opportunity Tax Credit is a federal tax credit available to employers who hire not only ex-convicts, but target groups such as unemployed and disabled veterans, food stamp and TANF recipients and designated community residents living in empowerment zones or rural renewal counties, according to doleta.gov.

O'Dell said the employer gets the tax credit if the felon stays a specified period of time.

"If they stay another period of time in the next year, then the employer would get another, smaller tax credit," O'Dell said, adding the credit can carry up to 10 years.

"So if they don't need to use them the year they hire the person, they can hold those tax credits, and that comes directly off the company's bottom line."

The Federal Bonding Program was created in 1966 by the U.S. Department of Labor as a means of helping ex-convicts and other at-risk or hard-to-place job applicants, according to jobs.mo.gov. The minimum amount of coverage offered is $5,000, but additional amounts are possible if justified by the employer.

"Oftentimes employers ... think 'felon,' they think they're going to steal from them or something to that effect," Gray said. He said the claim rate on the federal bonding program is less than 1 percent.

"The reality is they don't steal," Gray said.

Waters had been in the car business before going to prison, but wasn't sure whether he would be able to find work in the same field after being released. So he completed a water treatment apprenticeship program, hoping it would be a skill he could use when he got out. He worked at the wastewater plant for most of the time he spent at Marion.

He said he also took most of the parenting classes that were available.

His children now are 12 and 19. His older son, Austin, is proud of him, though the two occasionally have a strained relationship.

"He's going through some of the same troubles that I went through, now," Waters said.

Waters and his younger son, Gabe, have a better relationship, though Waters does not have custody.

"Austin knew I was gone the whole time," Waters said. "Gabe didn't understand anything until he was older." Gabe was 1 when Waters went to prison.

"He's the one thing in my life that hasn't worked out like I wanted it to," Waters said, speaking of a dream he had of coming home, getting a house, being successful and having his son come live with him.

Waters' parents got custody of Gabe when he was about 5, and Waters said Gabe is happy living with them.

"Me making him come live with me was about my happiness, not his happiness," Waters said. Still, he says they are "very close," spending weekends together and traveling.

Makin' it work

As with any job, issues between an employer and their ex-convict employee may arise. When they do, often a support team is in place to help them work through it.

O'Dell and Gray said they often monitor the employee's progress while keeping up with the employer.

"In a best-case scenario, we want to have that relationship with the employer for both reasons," Gray said. "We want to hear how well they're doing. We've had employers that say, 'Send us your people. They make the best employees.' And then also, if a person's having difficulty ... generally an employer's not going to call the family. But if we as probation officers have established a relationship with the employer, a lot of times they'll call us and say. 'John doesn't seem to be working out; he's not showing up on time,' we can get him into the office and find out what's going on: 'Are you having child care issues? Are you having transportation problems?'"

Gray also described a program called "Makin' It Work," in which officers work with people on job retention and on-the-job relationships, such as how to interact with superiors.

"So many things we take for granted, but, yes, that relationship with the employer is very important."

O'Dell said the Workforce Investment Board also receives feedback from employers on people who have been placed.

"Not every case, but if we do a placement and maybe do an on-the-job training contract or on-the-job agreement with the employer, then, yes, because we have to do periodic monitoring during that contract period," O'Dell said.

She said she hopes the Workforce Investment Board career counselors would tell the employee to call and let the counselor know if they run into a problem.

"Call me," O'Dell said. "Don't just up and quit and disappear. Call me."

Waters calls his time at the residential re-entry center in Farmington "critical" after spending seven years and eight months behind bars.

"...You spend all this time preparing to get out. It's all you think about is, 'When I get out ...' And then when you get out, you get dropped into that place and you're in the real world again. And it's just such a culture shock for you. Because in prison, you know exactly what's going to happen every day."

Waters said he didn't know how to text or use other technology that had not been available before he went to prison.

"The treatment center really helps you because you still have a little bit of monitoring. So it helps you transition back in where you're not just completely overwhelmed."

He said residents are expected to find a job and get up and be home at a certain time, gaining more independence as they progress.

"If you're only gone for six months, it's one thing. But if you take eight years of your life? The world changes. ... You don't even think about that when you're in prison, how chaotic life is in general."

Waters said he thinks completing training while in prison helps prepare inmates for re-entry because it gives them a sense of self-worth.

"Instead of just locking you up and you're just in there rotting away, it gives you a goal and makes you feel good about yourself," Waters said. "You spend a lot of time beating yourself up."

He said going through the levels of training can give inmates a sense of security in knowing they have a skill set and, therefore, possible job opportunities.

"If you just lock somebody away and throw the key away, when they get out, you're going to get the same person that you got when they went in.

"Having said that ... the only thing that's going to change you is you," Waters said. "You have to make the decision in there: 'I'm going to be a better person. ... I'm going to change myself. I want to succeed when I get out of here.'"

Ban the box

Two bills were introduced during the last legislative session in Missouri that would have affected the way former inmates are hired.

Known as "ban the box" measures, Senate Bill 44 and House Bill 865 would have barred public employers from asking early in the application process about a person's criminal history. The intention of the "ban the box" effort is to ensure people are not ruled out early for a job simply based on the fact they have served time. The employer would be required to wait until they've extended a conditional offer of employment to the applicant before inquiring about the potential employee's criminal history.

The Missouri cities of Columbia, Kansas City and St. Louis have enacted "ban the box" ordinances at the municipal level.

"I think the jury's still out on that as to whether or not it's a good thing," Gray said. "It's kind of mispresented that an employer can't consider that when hiring. They can. But it gives released inmates a foot in the door, and then they can explain it during the interview process."

Private employers and law enforcement agencies would not be subject to the law.

Gray says if employers use the box to exclude people, "they're selling themselves short because there are a lot of good people that are well-trained and make good employees that have a felony conviction."

Gray added: "But I think an employer has a right to know if a person has a felony conviction, particularly if it's in an area that is concerning to the employer."

Both bills made it out of their respective committees but failed to pass in the legislative session.

Success story

Waters said he has become more than he thought he'd be.

"I really just wanted a job," he said. "I thought if I could just make $40,000 a year, I would be the happiest guy in the world."

Waters did better than that -- he rose through the ranks at Bening Motor Co., being promoted from salesman to finance manager to general manager and finally becoming co-owner.

"The thing that made me successful was hard work. I was bound and determined," Waters said. "The reason that I got to where I am is I was the first one at the dealership and the last one to leave."

What Waters says he is most proud of is he feels like a good father.

"I'm prouder of that than any monetary success that I've ever had."

But, on a career level, "John Bening gave me the break that set this all in motion. That was the one person who gave me the opportunity."

He called his mother's support vital. He said he tells people who work for him now of how she helped him when he was released by buying him work clothes and a $500 vehicle, and giving him $100 cash.

"I didn't borrow a penny from anybody. Ever," he said.

"When John Bening gave me a key to the dealership for the first time, I remember standing inside of Wal-Mart crying, because to me ... that key meant so much to me," Waters said. "Because he trusted me with the key to a company that had money in it and had cars in it."

He said he sent Bening a text telling how much he appreciated that trust. Bening replied with a prediction Waters would someday own a dealership.

"I'm proud of myself. Proud that I'm a good father, and I'm proud of the person that I've become."

kwebster@semissourian.com

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