Howdy kids,an article courtesy of Dreighton
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A Job Fair's Captive Audience
Employers Resort To Wooing Inmates
By Kirstin Downey Grimsley
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, September 7, 1998; Page A01
AUSTIN-Employers had to pass through a metal detector to get to the
applicants at this job fair, but it didn't dim their ardor. Many practically
pleaded with the men and women to join their firms -- after they finish up
their jail terms.
"I'd be glad to give anybody a chance," said Terry Maxwell, owner of
Terry's Electric, addressing the inmates at the Travis County Community
Justice Center, a minimum-security jail sheathed in barbed wire.
In one of the tightest job markets in 30 years, employers are reaching out
to non-traditional workers they have spurned in the past. Although the 50
or so applicants at the Travis County job fair wore baggy blue or khaki
prison uniforms and guards kept a watchful eye over the room, the 20
company representatives pitching jobs seemed pleased just to have such a
large pool of workers in front of them.
Rich Green, a recruiter for Goodwill Industries of Central Texas Inc.,
which runs 11 retail stores, a temporary service agency and a computer
refurbishment firm, rubbed his palms together gleefully as he glanced
around the roomful of job prospects -- non-violent felons all. "We're hiring
the cream before they get out," Green said.
Several of the inmates shared his enthusiasm. "It's giving a lot of people
here high hopes," said Mark LeBlanc, 38, who has had a long-term
problem with drug and alcohol addiction and was ultimately sent to jail
after stealing a $35 power tool. "I have friends coming out of here now
making $8 or $10 an hour out there. I'm going to take the ball and run with
it, too."
These ex-offenders are among the latest beneficiaries of the nation's
buoyant economy. The U.S. unemployment rate has been less than 5
percent for more than a year. Meanwhile, there are 1.2 million inmates in
the country's jails and prisons, a record high, with the average sentence
lasting about two years.
Slowly but surely, matches are being made. In Florida, Timothy Mann,
manager of worker training and support for PRIDE, a non-profit group
that works with former inmates, said the number of people he has placed in
jobs has almost doubled in two years, climbing to 395 from about 200.
Federal officials also are noticing the trend. "We're finding a lot bigger
interest in hiring the offender population," said John E. Moore, coordinator
of the Justice Department's Office of Correctional Job Training and
Placement.
In Austin, for example, Faulkner Construction Co., has hired about 150
ex-offenders since 1992. At first, executives at other companies scoffed
when they learned the company was recruiting at a jail house job fair, said
Brian Faulkner, president of the company's concrete-pumping affiliate.
"Now, I don't tell them," Faulkner said, adding that ex-offenders have
performed as well at their companies as people hired off the street. "I look
at it as an untapped gold mine. . . . I'm thinking I don't want this to get out,
or everyone and his dog will be going there, too."
Faulkner executives tell workers that if they abide by the rules and work
hard they will earn the opportunity to make $30,000 a year, plus full
benefits, in one year's time. About 85 percent of the offenders make the
grade, said Denis Snyder, Faulkner's human resources manager, and none
has caused serious problems.
Close supervision of inmate recruits is considered a key issue at Mirage
Resorts in Las Vegas, which has hired 26 non-violent ex-offenders in
recent years, mostly young people coming out of a state-run boot camp.
The jobs include landscaping, flower arranging, maintenance and custodial
work.
Arte Nathan, former vice president of human resources at Mirage, said a
big problem has been other employees. "They're concerned that they'll
have to work with ex-cons, welfare cheats, bad people," he said.
Mirage hired a probation officer to monitor former inmates' progress,
counsel them as needed and help co-workers deal with any discomfort.
Experts on prison populations said hiring ex-offenders could have a
long-term positive effect for the country because numerous studies have
shown that people with good-paying jobs are far less likely to return to
prison.
But for an employer, hiring an ex-offender can sometimes be risky
business. If the worker robbed or injured a co-worker or customer, the
company could be held liable.
Experts note many inmates have deep-rooted problems similar to those of
long-time welfare recipients: little work experience, high rates of illiteracy,
drug and alcohol addiction, no health insurance, no home, no
transportation. Some even lack Social Security numbers.
Given the array of educational and experience barriers inmates face, many
prison officials and nonprofit advocacy groups hold mock job fairs, or
practice sessions, to give inmates a chance to hone their job-search skills
and learn how to handle a job interview, sometimes for the first time.
The Montgomery County Pre-Release Center organized a mock job fair in
Rockville in October. The 15 employers that participated -- including
Giant Food Inc. of Landover, Aspen Systems Corp. of Rockville, and
Social and Scientific Systems Inc. of Bethesda -- came away with a
different perspective about inmates, said the center's work release
coordinator, Eric Seleznow.
"The bulk of the criminal justice system is not incorrigible, hard-core
offenders," he said. "There's a lot of minor offenders who just have
problems. Employers are saying, 'We can work with them.' "
At the halfway house where Seleznow works, for example, criminal
offenses include driving while under the influence of alcohol, drug abuse
and drug dealing. Violent offenders are typically excluded from such
employment programs.
Attending a jail house job fair can be daunting for employers. The Travis
County facility is in barren, parched east Austin, down a dusty side road,
wedged between a state mental retardation center and a sewage treatment
plant. High walls of barbed wire enclose the jail. Doors slam shut behind
visitors, locking employers inside with the inmates.
But once the job fair began, the employers said they were surprised that
the inmates appeared so non-threatening. Ten female and 40 male inmates
participated in two sessions. Many races and ethnic backgrounds were
represented among them; and most appeared to be in their twenties and
early thirties. Some had the prematurely aged faces of heavy drug abusers,
others had vacant stares; most just looked average.
"They don't look like they deserve to be here," said Reece Kuhlmann,
residential superintendent for Ventana Glass & Mirror, which installs
custom mirrors and shower stalls, who said he had been "a little nervous"
about coming. "They just made a mistake. I think people deserve a second
chance."
The employers found an eager and grateful audience. The inmates listened
attentively to the short presentations the employers made and applauded
enthusiastically after each spoke. When the actual interviewing began a few
minutes later, some of the male inmates leaped out of their chairs and
bolted across the room to be the first in line.
"I want to change my life for the better," said Thomas Pearson, 21, who
was convicted of credit card abuse. "I'll do whatever I need to do to get a
job on the outside."
The women inmates were less appealing to the employer participants,
many of them in the construction industry. A Crime Prevention Institute
employee asked on the women's behalf whether the companies were truly
interested in hiring women. About a quarter of the employers said no, that
they had never hired women or would only consider them for clerical or
receptionist jobs. Most said they had only one or two women in the
better-paying trade jobs. The women inmates hooted and laughed at their
comments.
An inmate raised her hand: "Who are the people who train?," she asked.
About two-thirds of the firms said they would do so. When the
interviewing began, those who said they would train workers found
themselves surrounded by job-hunters; those who said they wouldn't, or
that they wouldn't hire women, sat alone at their tables.
In interviews during and after the job fair, employers and inmates
described their participation in the event as an act of desperation.
Employers said they needed to get more workers because they are so
short-staffed they were turning away business.
"When I pulled out of the parking lot to come here today, one of my
superintendents came out to my car to say, 'Find us some people,' " said
Joe Regitz, sales manager at Williams Insulation Inc., who hired one
worker he met at the jail and is considering three others among the eight he
spoke with at the job fair.
Inmates facing freedom within the next few weeks said they needed jobs to
survive outside prison.
"We've got food and clothes here," said John Gilmore, 26, a
second-generation criminal who said he turned to crime to support his
cocaine habit. "The real challenge is out there."
c Copyright 1998 The Washington Post Company
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