A Parolee’s World

She checks in 15 minutes late to her first parole meeting. But when she arrives at the mezzanine level, there’s a short line waiting in front of her. She’s not too late.

The parolee world must be a small one, because both of the women waiting in front of her are friends from Turning Point. The three friends reminisce for a few minutes about those they’ve left behind or those who have walked a little further down the road of reentry. Because the other two have already been out about two weeks, Suzanne is anxious to pick up a few tips about food stamps, bus passes, and health insurance.

The P.O.’s door opens and another familiar face emerges. This friend has dyed her hair purple since leaving prison and shows off a sparkly scarf she proudly purchased at a consignment store. She tells the other women that she had a job all lined up, but once the employer found out about her record, the offer was dropped. Apparently, she hadn’t told the employer about her conviction up front.

Suzanne’s turn finally arrives, and she is ushered into the P.O.’s office. About 30, shoulder-length blonde hair, red patent leather shoes, Krissy Mattson looks more hipster than toughened parole officer, but there’s no doubt she means business. As Suzanne settles into a seat next to a window overlooking downtown Portland, Krissy begins to explain the ground rules.

On the books, Suzanne is still considered an inmate for the next 90 days. She’s a part of Oregon’s Alternative Incarceration Program (AIP)—an early-release system for well-behaved prisoners who participate in Turning Point and similar treatment programs. The average sentence reduction for prisoners on “transitional leave” is 13 months.

While she’s on “trans leave,” Suzanne’s restrictions are tighter than those for typical parolees, as compensation for early release. She has a 10:00 p.m. curfew, can’t leave the Portland area, is subject to random UA’s (urinary analyses), and must report back to her P.O. every week at the same time. She’s not allowed to go to bars or any restaurants where alcohol is the main source of revenue. She also must start paying restitution to her victims after she receives her second paycheck. Paying restitution in a timely manner is a payoff for early release.

On top of that, she is required to make 25 job contacts a week until she lands full-time employment. Thanks to her sister, a dental assistant, Suzanne has a part-time job waiting for her at her family’s dentist office. She shows Krissy a letter from the dentist explaining that Suzanne can begin working 25 hours a week as an office assistant starting a month after her release.

Still, part-time employment isn’t ideal for someone who has a propensity to pass spare time at the video poker gallery. And waiting an entire month to start working can create extra hours for temptation. Krissy tells Suzanne that she needs to ask the dentist if she can start working sooner, and that she still has to make 25 contacts a week.

After the interview, Suzanne says confidently, “I’m not scared.”

All of this beats serving the last 13 months of her sentence.

The Sidewalks of Portland

A cautious glimmer dances across her eyes, as she pushes open the large glass doors of the Multnomah County Community Justice building and steps out into the sunlight.

“I thought it would feel like I was walking around with an ‘inmate’ sign on my forehead,” she admits as she passes a Starbucks and walks up the steps of Portland’s downtown square. “But now it feels like I never left.”

Holding a binder filled with notes from her P.O., she looks more like a college girl than an ex-felon. But her momentary forgetfulness flees as her gaze lands on a turquoise storefront squashed in the middle of a row of boutiques. The woman who owns that store is one of Suzanne’s former employers, one of her victims. Suzanne swallows hard and keeps walking.

Dee is getting a crown replaced a few blocks down the street at the dentist’s office. As Suzanne walks into the waiting room, Dr. Gyapong, a striking African American with short dreadlocks, steps into the doorway and engulfs Suzanne in a bear hug. The long-time family friend pulls back and looks inquisitively into Suzanne’s face.

A few moments of chit chat, then Suzanne ventures into the subject of employment and the inevitable question: Would it be possible for her to start working earlier?