Portraits of a New Beginning Foreword: The Exit Door

There are few experiences more traumatic for a human being than being confined in a prison. But as unbelievable as it may seem, going through the door in the opposite direction, toward freedom, can be worse.

Many minor sentences end up being life sentences in practice. The people sentenced can never leave the past behind. Neither the authorities nor society forgives them. Suspicion follows them for the rest of their lives and their recidivism is taken for granted.

Formal and legal employment opportunities are limited. More seriously, the incarcerated people’s families themselves often refuse to accept them.

The U.S. prison system focuses more on punishment than on resocialization. Prison rules are strict in enforcing the removal of the convicted person, but little consideration is given to that person’s return to the community. Daily life behind bars becomes a struggle for survival that often crosses the boundary of criminality. On the other hand, learning a trade in order to return to the community and integrate as a respected and productive person is secondary.

The institutional short-sightedness that ends up hindering, or preventing, the reintegration of post-penitent inmates — and frequently pushing them to reoffend — has a corresponding manifestation in the family nucleus. Often, family solidarity with the prisoner diminishes with the age of time, and it may eventually disappear during a long sentence. Prison is a kind of living death for the families of incarcerated people. Mourning is followed by resignation, and then comes inexorable oblivion. While inmates dream of finding affection and people as they them, life goes on for the families. That is why reunions are usually frustrating. Nothing is as expected, neither for the one who returns from prison, nor for those who were waiting.

As if this were not enough, there are figures that show that the neediest sectors of the U.S. suffer the most from these systemic iniquities. The proportional difference between the general and prison populations is telling. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, although whites make up around 60 percent of the U.S. population, 31 percent of the incarcerated belong to

that demographic group. In contrast, people of African descent, who make up just 14 percent of the population, for 32 percent of prison inmates.

People of African descent and Hispanics are more likely to be incarcerated than a person of Anglo descent. According to official figures, the probability of a Latino going to jail is more than two times higher than that of a white person. The case of African-Americans is even worse: They are almost five times more likely to be sentenced than an Anglo-Saxon. Reintegration opportunities are also lower for of these minority groups.

The marginalization of formerly incarcerated people hurts them first and foremost, but it also harms society, which loses the opportunity to reintegrate them into the community and productive life.

Despite this panorama, there are success stories that show the exceptional is possible.

David Maris' portraits are stunning photographs, but beyond that virtue, they are also images of the souls of people who have suffered these circumstances, each in their respective measure, and have managed to overcome them: for example, a couple who end up at the same time separated and united by prison; a condemned woman, daughter of another condemned

and dead in prison, who finds a new opportunity after thinking life had denied her all of them; the story of a recidivist who discovers in art his way of escaping from the nightmare; or the story of a young man who rebuilds his life by helping others to build and find their opportunity. There is also the story of an inmate who becomes a lawyer, exploring a solution for himself, and ends up becoming the legal counsel of his fellow inmates, who never had a defense that would help them understand that the law that punishes them also protects them.

Each of the testimonies has been rigorously edited into a resounding paragraph — almost a caption — to illustrate hope, the recovery of self-esteem and the long but possible road to resocialization.

The remarkable work — and sensitivity — of Olivia Liendo, Ana María Carrano, Tamoa Calzadilla and María Gabriela Méndez make this book an essential reference to understand the reality of the people who need this Second Chance.

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