The graduates queued up after removing their gowns and arranging the stoles and tassels of their classmates. The 85 guys appeared to applause and congratulations from their families as the graduation march played. They marched to the stage, which had been built by other convicts and was encircled by barbed wire. Because these were not your typical graduates. While receiving their college degrees, high school diplomas, and vocational certifications acquired while they were serving time, the recipients’ aqua and navy-blue prison uniforms were nearly completely hidden by their black commencement attire. The government Pell Grant programme, which provides the neediest undergraduate students with tuition aid they don’t have to repay, helps thousands of prisoners throughout the United States earn their college degrees while they are incarcerated.
“So when I came into the prison and I saw an opportunity to go to college, I took it,” said Massey
Next month, that programme will significantly grow, adding 30,000 more students who are incarcerated and providing an additional $130 million in financial aid annually. The new regulations start to address decades of “tough on crime” policy from the 1970s to 2000 that led to mass imprisonment and glaring racial disparities in the country’s 1.9 million jail population. The regulations repeal a 1994 restriction on Pell Grants for prisoners.
It can mean the difference between a prisoner being able to walk free with a future ahead of them or ending up back behind bars for those prisoners who complete their college degrees, including those at Folsom State Prison who received funds during an experimental phase that began in 2016. With a criminal record, it can be challenging to get employment, making a college degree an advantage that ex-offenders sorely need. Gerald Massey, one of 11 Folsom students who received degrees from California State University, Sacramento, has completed nine years of a 15-to-life sentence for the fatal drunk driving accident that claimed the life of a close friend.
“The last day I talked to him, he was telling me, I should go back to college,” Massey said. “So when I came into the prison and I saw an opportunity to go to college, I took it.” Take into account the fact that incarcerating one adult in California costs about $106,000 each year. The Transforming Outcomes Project at Sacramento State, or TOPSS, charges roughly $20,000 to educate a prisoner in a bachelor’s degree programme. According to David Zuckerman, the project’s interim director, expanding prison education shouldn’t be difficult to sell if a prisoner is released with a degree, never commits another crime, has a job making a good salary, and pays taxes. “I would say that return on investment is better than anything I’ve ever invested in,” Zuckerman said.
It doesn’t follow that it is always well-liked. It can be debatable to provide financial aid for college to those who have breached the law with taxpayer money. Some well-known Republicans rejected the Obama administration’s unilateral action in 2015 that gave a limited amount of Pell Grants to convicts, suggesting that the money would be better spent on enhancing the federal government’s current job training and re-entry programmes. Between 1970 and 2000, the percentage of Black and Hispanic Americans who were incarcerated tripled. In the same time frame, the rate for white Americans doubled.
The hundreds of college-in-prison programmes that existed in the 1970s and 1980s all but vanished by the late 1990s
The hundreds of college-in-prison programmes that existed in the 1970s and 1980s all but vanished by the late 1990s as a result of the prohibition on Pell Grants for convicts. Following a vote by Congress to repeal the moratorium in 2020, about 200 Pell-eligible college programmes, including the one at Folsom, have been operating in 48 states, Washington, D.C., and Puerto Rico. Now that the doors are open, any college that wants to use Pell Grant money to help jailed students can submit an application and, if accepted, start their programme.
Giving Pell Grants to convicts has recently received strong backing from Vice President Joe Biden. Previously, convicts were not eligible for Pell Grants because of the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994, which was supported by the previous senator from Delaware. Since then, Biden has stated that he disagreed with that provision of the compromise law.
This spring, 200 people were enrolled in bachelor’s degree programmes through the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, which collaborates with eight different colleges and universities. According to CDCR communications secretary Terri Hardy, the objective is to improve the lives of convicts via education. Classes at Folsom Prison resemble any college class, with the exception of students who are clothed in prisoner blues. The same assignments given to on-campus students are also given to students who are jailed.
Students at Folsom Prison come from a wide range of backgrounds
Students at Folsom Prison come from a wide range of backgrounds. They are young, middle-aged, senior, white, black, and Hispanic. Massey, a communications graduate, is of South Asian descent. Massey, whose parents arrived in the United States from Pakistan when he was born there, remembers feeling alienated as a child. His family members belonged to a small Christian group in Karachi, even though the majority of people of his origin are Muslims. He was bullied in elementary school. He recalled as an adolescent trying to find approval from the wrong crowd. After graduating from high school, Massey enlisted in the Air Force.
“After 9/11, I went in and some people thought I was a terrorist trying to infiltrate,” he said. “It really bothered me. So when I got out of the military, I didn’t want anything to do with them.” Massey enrolled in college after one year in the military but dropped out. Later, he became a certified nursing assistant and held the job for 10 years. He married and had two children. His addiction to alcohol and marijuana habit knocked him off course. “I was living like a little kid and I had my own little kids,” Massey said. “And I thought if I do the bare minimum, that’s OK.”
He had to accept responsibility for his conduct because of prison. He refocused, sought alcoholism treatment, and resumed his academic pursuits. To supplement his income, he started barbering in prison. Massey made use of his access to WiFi to study, take examinations, and complete assignments in between cutting hair for prison workers, including guards and other correctional officers. The housing facilities for prisoners don’t have internet access. Massey was the last of his classmates to don his cap and gown on graduation day. He was a part of the honour guard for the ceremony, and a white aiguillette, a decorative braided cord signifying his military service, was affixed to his prison outfit.
“It’s a big accomplishment,” Massey said. “I feel, honestly, that God opened the doors and I just walked through them.” Massey found his mom, wife and daughter for a long-awaited celebratory embrace. He reserved the longest and tightest embrace for his 9-year-old daughter, Grace. Her small frame collapsed into his outstretched arms, as his wife Jacqueline Massey looked on. “There are so many different facets and things that can happen when you’re incarcerated, but this kept him focused on his goals,” Massey’s wife Jacq’lene said. “Having the resources and the ability to participate in programs like that really helped him, but it actually helps us, too.” “There’s the domino effect – it’s good for our kids to see that. It’s good for me to see that,” she said.
In addition to his degree in communications, Massey also holds degrees in biblical studies and theology. Before he graduated, his alternatives for after release started to take shape. His eligibility for parole has been determined by state commissioners, and he anticipates being released soon. He met with a charitable organisation that helps detained war veterans in May to arrange for temporary lodging, food, clothing, and health insurance for his upcoming re-entry. “There’s a radio station I listen to, a Christian radio station, that I’ve been thinking one day I would like to work for,” Massey said. “They are always talking about redemption stories. So I would like to share my redemption story, one day.”