As human beings, we can change. My company hires former inmates who prove that every day.
The day I stepped beyond the electric fence of New York's Lakeview prison after serving a seven-year sentence for running a drug ring, I thought of myself as a new man. I had been handed an envelope with $40. A bus ticket. And my freedom.
I’d be a returning citizen, and my rights would be restored.
Or so I thought.
I learned quickly that even after someone has paid his debt to society and is released from prison, he faces more than 44,000 collateral consequences in America. I couldn’t vote. I couldn’t find viable employment. I couldn’t get life insurance. I couldn’t get an apartment.
I came home from prison with genuine remorse and intent on becoming a productive member of society. I also returned with a dream: to build a fitness business called CONBODY that would hire only formerly incarcerated individuals who would teach the world how to be healthy.
I’ve met the smartest people I know inside prison.
The system discards so much untapped human potential and productivity because of past mistakes. Accountability for wrongdoing is an essential part of justice — but so are second chances.
Changed, but still judged
When I went to prison, I was grossly overweight. In fact, after an initial exam, I was told by a prison nurse that I had high cholesterol and that I was in danger of having a heart attack within five years if I didn't lose weight.
I was sentenced to seven years, and my first thought was that I didn't want to die in prison.
So I decided to get in shape using the minimal tools at my disposal: my prison cell and my own body weight. Within six months, I had lost 70 pounds.
I began teaching my exercises to other inmates. I loved it. Not just because of the transformation we saw in our health, but because of the symbolic message that came with it: As human beings, we can change — not just in body but in mind, in soul and in action.
After prison, I focused on hiring returning citizens because I knew they’d have to contend with the same discrimination, stigma and pain of constant rejection that I did. And I wanted to help.
I had searched relentlessly for an entry-level job when I left prison. But every time I handed my application to a store manager, his eyes would stop short upon noticing a check mark in the box that asked whether I had a criminal history. The conversation quickly ended. It was extremely frustrating, and unfair.
I finally found a job cleaning houses and offices, but it barely paid for my monthly couch surfing rent that year.
Two years after I started that job, I learned about Defy Ventures, a nonprofit organization that helps formerly incarcerated individuals launch their own businesses, and I started to work on making my fitness company dream a reality.
I began running my workout classes in a New York City park and marketing my services to people who ran by and saw me doing pullups with a broken pipe. After two years, I had finally built a following.
I began searching for real estate to hold classes. But I faced the same barrier on my application: “Have you ever been convicted of a felony?” Brokers told me that landowners wouldn’t want former inmates working out in their spaces. After a year of rejections, a Buddhist landlord gave me that second chance and allowed me to rent space in her basement.
The hurdles didn’t stop there. I needed to purchase business insurance, and due to my record I was either denied or quoted thousands of dollars a month more than the average person.
In 2015, I was fortunate to speak at a roundtable discussion sponsored by the state of New York on hiring practices that limit opportunities for the formerly incarcerated. I taught fitness classes to business executives who wanted me to share my story. I told members of New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo's team about all the roadblocks that were put in front of me and other formerly incarcerated individuals when they seek employment.
The next year, Cuomo instituted a key policy reform: Business insurance companies in New York state are no longer permitted to deny coverage because of criminal records.
After years of hitting walls, I was finally able to start my business. To date, CONBODY has employed more than 40 formerly incarcerated individuals.
Living America's values
There’s still much work to be done.
Today, too many formerly incarcerated individuals can’t secure employment after release. There are more than 10,000 regulated restrictions that formerly incarcerated people face while trying to obtain occupational licenses. Is it any wonder that the U.S. recidivism rate is more than 75%?
To help change public perceptions about formerly incarcerated individuals, I also launched Second Chance Studios, a nonprofit that trains and employs returning citizens in audio engineering, podcasting and video production to give them a voice. We also provide job placement support by pairing them with mentors who are industry experts.
Access to meaningful employment is critical not just for reducing recidivism and making our communities safer, but also for making our economy stronger. And it’s not just good for business, it’s good for society, too. America was founded on values of new beginnings, human dignity and redemption.
After all, what if the world defined you by the worst thing you’ve ever done?
Coss Marte, who spent six years in prison on drug-related charges, is now the owner of CONBODY.
Leaders of Change
Overview: A mayor, a filmmaker, a Navajo Nation president: Our take on Leaders of Change
Social and Criminal Justice:We allow 'the most marginalized among us to be exploited'
Policing reform: 'There’s so much at stake, but we were built for this moment'
Politics: ‘We're holding our prosecuting offices responsible’
Economy: 'When people have the resources to help themselves, they are going to'
Education: 'Black girls were experiencing harm ... beyond the rate of the boys'
Children's rights: 'We must redress racial inequality for children'
Health care: 'Unnamed wound is what I have come to understand as racial trauma'
Environment: ‘No community should be saddled with more environmental burdens’
Religion: 'Neighbors who did not understand neighbor love'
This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: As human beings, we can change. My company hires former inmates who prove it
