An Uphill Climb to Prosperity: The Journey of a Returning Mother

Jamila 'Jay' Harris. Photographed by Tezarah Wilkins.

By Jamila ‘Jay’ W. Harris

A wise poet once wrote, “life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.” This could not be truer for a person who is justice-impacted. As a mother returning from incarceration, life is full of bumps, cracks, and splinters on stairs that bruise as they knock me down one step for every two steps that I climb. My journey from incarceration to stability has been a roller coaster ride since I returned to society nearly two decades ago.

I was introduced to the United States criminal justice system when I was facing homelessness. I was convicted for cashing bad checks, an activity that I engaged in when I lost my career. It was a short-lived experience, and I was arrested, convicted, and sentenced to one year in jail. Although this was my first offense, I had no prior criminal record, and I am a mother of four children, I was still sentenced to incarceration for my crime. 

I was also sentenced to three years of parole and five years of probation. When I completed my terms, I was resentenced to ten more years of probation to pay off my debt. My fees included restitution, court costs, community supervision, and imposed fines.

I was not prepared to serve ten more years of community supervision, and I could not satisfy my debt to the justice system for several reasons. First, there are employment barriers for individuals with criminal records; most people did not want to hire me once my criminal record was revealed. Second, I was on a fixed income receiving disability compensation. Finally, and most importantly, my debt increased fourfold from the time of sentencing.

I will explain how my debt increased in simple terms: I owed five thousand dollars to one county, another five thousand dollars was imposed on my restitution, and the community supervision fees totaled another ten thousand. This increased my debt from five thousand dollars to twenty thousand dollars. Currently, I am detained on probation until I pay that off in full. 

Remaining on community supervision for a debt – with interest – has limited my freedom in multiple ways. I cannot travel without permission, move out of the city, or prosper financially until I am relieved of my debt. I receive warnings to remit a payment within five days, or I could have legal action, including re-incarceration, taken against me. Other legal sanctions include garnishing my wages and revoking my driver’s license. Surviving on a limited income with legal sanctions against me increases my financial burden. Without financial freedom, you cannot experience true freedom or the ability to live comfortably without the fear of losing your home, freedom, or Wi-Fi. 

The journey has been difficult, but I’ve forged a path that helps me satisfy my debt to the justice system, sustain my lifestyle, and prosper. Initially, I had no resources for restorative and transformative justice support, but I soon became familiar with agencies that support returning women. I was fortunate to secure an internship that led to employment with a transformative justice agency. 

Transformative justice can refer to a justice-impacted individual who addresses and resolves the challenges that led to their arrest. With support, they transform into productive community members and evolve to a state of desistance, meaning they remain a permanent non-offender. 

I was fortunate to obtain employment at an organization that viewed my criminal justice experience as an asset. However, shortly after I was hired, I was threatened with wage garnishment for a child-support debt that increased while I was incarcerated. I was also dealing with other personal challenges in reentry, including health challenges and symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depression Disorder, sparked by my incarceration experience.

When I returned from incarceration, I experienced nightmares. I would wake up in chills and cold sweats, believing I was back in jail. It was challenging for me to transition from incarceration into a world full of strangers. Everything was moving fast, and there was no moment to seek relief from returning from confined, dark spaces. The expectation that one can pick up their role where they left off when they come home is impossible. The additional pressure to satisfy the many obligations of parole and probation exacerbated the challenges of re-entering society. Therefore, I fell.

I describe my experience of reunification with my children as carrying a load of books someone placed in my arms. As soon as I touched free ground, I was juggling my role as a mother and probationer and maintaining my current bills and past debts. I felt overwhelmed. Those books eventually fell, and I fell along with them. Overloaded with responsibility, I never had a moment to relieve and process the emotions I felt from experiencing the traumatic and unforgettable event of incarceration.

It took a moment for me to regain solid ground. As a mother, you have to keep going even when your world is falling apart. Within a year, I discovered a path to earn credentials for providing therapeutic support for other individuals returning home. It was a state certification known as a Certified Recovery or Peer Specialist (CRS/CPS). A CRS or CPS provides therapeutic peer support for individuals with mental health or recovery needs. This credentialed role provides employment opportunities for individuals with criminal records. Obtaining both the CRS and CPS credentials put me in a position to make a living. I was no longer worried about my criminal record because my experience was a valued asset in this career.

My criminal justice experience and credentials provided public speaking, community engagement, and workshop facilitation opportunities. I also co-developed a workforce program for young women and coordinated initiatives that include fundraisers for incarcerated women and community pilot programs. 

As a social justice activist and author, my experiences enhanced my voice and led to my participation in the Change the Narrative program sponsored by Women’s Way and facilitated by Love Now Media. This initiative strengthened my voice even more, providing a platform for my cries for true justice to be heard and amplified. I collaborated with nine powerful, intelligent, and inspiring women about the challenges of inequity and systemic oppression against returning women. These challenges included systemic racism, anti-feminism & sexism, and classism, designed to keep specific genders from marginalized communities oppressed. Returning women also face bias and stigma against those who have criminal records. This includes wage disparities and the lack of opportunities to earn the same salaries as our colleagues. Most of the women I collaborate with have degrees; however, with a criminal record, our education merely gets our resumes considered. In the Change the Narrative initiative, we shared our narratives of determination & resiliency that allowed us to triumph against systems designed to keep us down. We revealed how we thrived, gaining positions of leadership and entrepreneurship despite the barriers of a carceral system. 

The end result was yet another victory: we co-produced the podcast Beyond the Razor Wire Fence. I was grateful for that opportunity because it added another credential to my career. Most importantly, it allowed me to gain. Not only did I gain financially, I also gained another step on my climb. I am unsure where each step leads next on my journey. However, I am sure that climbing is better than being knocked down. Each victory strengthens my resiliency, and resiliency is a strength that I will always need. Indeed, as Langston Hughes wrote in his iconic poem “Mother to Son,” life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. Ase’

Love Now Magazine

This article originally appeared in the 2024 Fall issue of Love Now Magazine with the theme of Freedom. You can read more stories like Jay’s here.