Regardless of how dramatic a life’s collapse may be, God’s love has the power to heal it. This was the simple yet shocking message with which a Christian community confronted the wave of crime in the city’s most violent neighbourhood.
Reintegrating people with criminal records into society is a difficult process that can be derailed at many stages. Once the prison gates have closed and the former inmate breathes the heady air of freedom, confronting real life, which could well have changed beyond recognition, can be quite harsh.
On the first night after his release, Cornel, a 30-year-old man, slept outside near the “Vatra” transitional children’s home in Chișinău. It was very cold and sleeting. Cornel had returned to the only home he knew, but no one let him in—it was Friday evening and the centre’s administrators were away. Tamara Pisarenco, the manager of the facility, who housed Cornel for two months after his release, fears he will turn to crime again, as many others in his situation do. “At least he eats and has a roof over his head in prison.”[1]
Vance Webster, who was released from prison at the age of 42, has been looking for a job for three years now. He was imprisoned at the age of 16 for robbery and murder; he was pushed into these crimes by the gang he joined as a teenager. After his release, Vance attended over 80 job interviews and was only hired for seven months, until it emerged that he had failed to tick the box on the application form asking if he had committed a crime in the previous seven years. Hoping to rebuild his life, which was almost destroyed, Vance would likely have been lured back into a life of crime had he not found help in time.[2]
Navigating through turbulent times
Of the more than 40,000 British prisoners serving sentences of less than two years, 60% reoffend within the first year of their release.[3] The reincarceration rate is also high in the US: five out of six released prisoners are arrested at least once within nine years of their release.[4]
Although Romania “ranks low in terms of crime in Europe”[5] (it is 10th in the EU for homicide and has the lowest assault rate in the EU), we do not fare well when it comes to reoffending. With a recidivism rate of at least 60%,[6] effective measures for the social reintegration of prisoners upon their release are lacking.
The first month of freedom is a crucial one for former inmates, as it is during this time that “the foundation is laid for their entire journey toward reintegration.”[7]
According to sociologist Andra Istrate, nothing is simple in the first few months, as the former inmate goes through an adjustment period during which they gradually reacclimate to life outside prison—the sounds, open spaces, and simple activities such as riding the bus. If they have a family, that family will take on the full responsibility that comes with release, because the state no longer gets involved in the lives of former inmates. A job is one of the major factors that lead to a reduction in reoffending.[8] If former inmates cannot secure financial stability within three months of release, they can find themselves drawn back into a life of crime.[9]
After leaving prison, many are “almost childlike in their vulnerability”.[10] Professor Ioan Durnescu believes that we have focused too much on a question to which we still do not know the answer—Why do people commit crimes?—when a better question is: Why do people give up a life of crime? According to the professor, offenders give up illegal activities when they achieve something positive in their lives—something valuable enough that the risk of reincarceration is no longer an option. Can churches or Christian organisations contribute to the successful reintegration of former inmates into society?
First and second chances
“I don’t save people. God saves people. I can point them in the right direction. I can say, ‘There’s that door. I think if you walked through it, you’d be happier than you are,'”[11] says Father Gregory Boyle, the man who has changed the fate of many thousands of former inmates and at-risk youth.
From his very first project—opening a school—Father Boyle sensed that the community’s attitude was beginning to change. People re-evaluated their closed-off attitudes and gave up on drawing lines between “the good” and “the bad”, instead asking themselves what Jesus would do for these vulnerable groups.[12]
This is how Boyle laid the foundation for the organisation that would become a refuge that is “not a place for second chances [but] a place for first chances.”[13]
In 1992, Gregory Boyle founded Homeboy Industries, a programme primarily aimed at young people, including those recently released from prison and former street gang members. The programme was made possible thanks to the involvement of the Christian community at the Dolores Mission Catholic Church, which is located in the Hispanic neighbourhood of Boyle Heights—one of the most violent areas of Los Angeles.
Homeboys Industries has become the largest programme of its kind in the US, aiming to provide a positive alternative to the rehabilitation of offenders within the US prison system. Around 12,000 people benefit from its wide range of services each year, including tattoo removal, therapy, counselling (including legal counselling), vocational training, drug rehabilitation programmes, and parenting classes. The centre employs four therapists and receives volunteer assistance from a further 47 people (including two psychiatrists).
The programme’s success is demonstrated by the waiting list of potential beneficiaries, which shows that the number of people seeking help far exceeds the available capacity. The programme lasts 18 months, combining education, counselling, and work to offer participants the opportunity to secure a job—often the first of their lives. The organisation runs several social enterprises, providing hundreds of jobs under the motto, “Nothing stops a bullet like a job.”[14]
Since launching the programme in 2014, over 400 organisations from around the world have visited the Homeboy Industries campus in Los Angeles to learn how to break the cycle of reoffending, address the collateral consequences of incarceration effectively, and mobilise people to fight for social justice.[15]
Although he has helped tens of thousands of people, the founder of Homeboy Industries knows that this is just a drop in the ocean. In Los Angeles, for example, there are 1,100 gangs comprising 120,000 members, and the recidivism rate in California is 70%. This is precisely why Homeboy Industries represents both concrete assistance and a symbol, says Boyle. Throughout its years of operation, despite daunting financial crises, the organisation has posed a question to the city: What if we invested in rehabilitating offenders rather than punishing them?[16]
A philosophy of change
“Kindness is the only strength there is”[17]—this is Father Boyle’s creed. He is convinced that he has been called to help those who can no longer find their own way to the light.
This creed is complemented by another principle: “An employed gang member can still return to prison, and an educated one also—but a healed gang member and felon will not go back to prison. That is guaranteed.”[18]
For Inez Calcido, the path to recovery began with the first warm question she was asked after stepping through the doors of Homeboy Industries: “How can I help you?” Having committed her first armed robbery alongside her mother and experienced violence from a very young age, Inez is eager to ask the same question of those seeking help at the organisation where she will work as a psychologist upon completing her studies.
Miguel Lugo has been through every major prison in California and had no hope of rehabilitation. Homeboy Industries was his way out of a life of violence. It’s a world where you don’t prepare for the future because you’re told you don’t have one, says Miguel, who is now a homeowner and devoted father to his six children.
Gregory Boyle is not surprised by these results because he has identified the key factors in rehabilitating the most troubled lives: a new environment, a supportive community, and, above all, the “extravagant tenderness” with which those taking their first steps towards normality are surrounded.
Inequality, deviance, and deprivation are so deeply ingrained in modern society that they seem impossible to eradicate. Yet a better world is not built solely on heroic gestures but on the bricks we lay daily at its foundation. In this endeavour, which sometimes takes time to bear fruit, kindness is the most powerful, least costly, and most underrated agent of human change. At least until a follower of Christ rediscovers its power and causes it to reverberate beyond the boundaries of their own life.
Carmen Lăiu is an editor at Signs of the Times Romania.
