Portraits of a Transition

The road to freedom after imprisonment has always been challenging. Victor Hugo illustrated this at the end of the 19th century in his novel, "Les Misérables", in which the main character, Jean Valjean, is pursued for years after escaping and breaking the of his parole. Hugo was inspired by one of the pioneers of modern criminology: Eugène-François Vidocq (1775-1857), a criminal who, after periods of incarceration, fled through several countries before finally cooperating with the French police.

Nearly two centuries after this story, reentry into society after incarceration remains challenging. Incarceration profoundly changes people, and upon release, they face new limitations. Returning to “normal” means obtaining identification, health insurance, housing and employment despite a criminal record, and reestablishing family ties.

To understand all the facets of this reality, we launched the Second Chance project in mid-2019. We interviewed lawyers, judges, academics and leaders of non-governmental organizations working inside and outside the United States correctional system. Most importantly, we listened to the stories of men and women who have overcome the obstacles in returning to freedom.

Finding a Path

One of the key findings of this research was that the first 72 hours of freedom are the hardest, especially if the person has no close family or friends. Those released from prison often have little or no money, no food or medicine, and nowhere to go.

Zachary Manuz, whom I interviewed just a few weeks after his release, told me he was still in considerable pain from a surgery performed three days before being dismissed and had only received $15 because he had “been in prison more than once.”

Nonprofit organizations — most of them donation-based — play a vital role in assisting individuals during the initial hours following release from prison. However, there are not enough nonprofits to the 650,000 people who leave prison each year, a figure comparable to the population of Boston.

Some organizations, such as The First 72+ in Louisiana, provide temporary housing. Others, like the Primavera Foundation in Arizona, assist with logistical processes for obtaining documentation, social benefits or health insurance.

“A lot of times people are dismissed from prison in the middle of winter, in their summer clothes with no money and parked on a bus stop. They have to eat; they have to sleep. That’s when they are most vulnerable,” James Vogelzang, founder of Doing His Time in Colorado, said. He continued, “If they are desperate, in those first three days, it is when they’re most likely to go back to their old habits, whether it’s robbery, burglary, selling drugs — whatever it is.” His organization has a program to provide clothing and personal hygiene items during the first 72 hours so that “they can feel human,” he added.

We have also found that the number of rules individuals have to follow upon their return to society can be overwhelming. Meeting with people who are on probation or parole, consuming drugs or being unemployed can result in a new arrest. Yet, how do you comply with these rules when your immediate family may also be on probation or parole, you struggle with addiction or you can’t get a job because of your criminal record?

In the United States, the unemployment rate for people who have been incarcerated is nearly five times higher than that of the general population. A White House report from April 2023 notes that economists have estimated that the lack of full participation in the labor force by formerly incarcerated individuals reduces the gross national product by $78 billion to $87 billion annually (an amount equivalent to Panama’s GDP in 2023).

Among the barriers to successfully reintegrating into society, we identified that even the use of language can influence the recovery process. What do you call someone who has been in prison? Labels like “criminal,” “ex-convict” or “felon” define them forever. “The language of ‘convict,’ ‘criminal,’ ‘felony,’ has painted

a picture as if we were monstrous people,” explained Roberto Luca, a student at Rio Hondo College, to journalist Tamoa Calzadilla. “Finding this alternative narrative is a way to regain our dignity and to be able to appreciate who we are.”

Rules and Recidivism

The case of a young woman arrested in Arizona was a catalyst for a judge to start an organization aimed at influencing the reintegration process. The pre-sentence report indicated that this woman had been molested at age 9 by an uncle and at age 12 by her stepbrother, who introduced her to methamphetamines a year later.

“What this woman needed was help, not judgment,” reflected Charles Pyle, the now-retired judge who handled the case. “We can’t respond to relapses with prison. ... I felt that we were the ones with all the collegeeducation and a stable living, and we were just giving them a long list of things to do. We need to put far fewer burdens on it and a lot more help.” That’s why, in 2014, he founded Second Chance Tucson in Arizona, an organization that helps people find jobs.

Most people serving time in U.S. prisons will be released at some point in their lives, but 7 out of 10 will be rearrested within five years of their release, according to recidivism studies published by the Bureau of Justice Statistics (BJS). Recidivism is defined as “a person’s relapse into criminal behavior” by the National Institute of Justice.

Reducing recidivism by 10 percent could save the United States $635 million a year, according to a 2023 White House report. This amount is close to the cost of building the September 11 Memorial & Museum in New York.

The economic impact is striking, especially when you consider that 1 in 4 people who return to state prison were arrested for so-called technical violations of parole. These include noncompliance, such as failing to keep appointments with the supervision officer, but do not involve committing a new crime.

Another striking finding from the research is that the incarceration rate for Hispanics is more than twice as high as that of whites. Intrigued by this disparity, I reached out to Alfred Blumstein, a criminologist and professor emeritus at 25 Carnegie Mellon University, renowned for his pioneering work on racial disparities in U.S. prisons.

Blumstein observed that arrest statistics can be subject to distortion due to the more frequent presence of police in disadvantaged neighborhoods, which tend to have higher crime rates and are often home to minority populations.

As a result, he added, racial and ethnic minorities are more vulnerable to arrest. A review of poverty data published by the Census Bureau confirms this disparity: While 10.5 percent of whites live in poverty, the percentage is 16.9 percent for Hispanics.

Starting Inside

More than half of the people serving time in prison have some form of substance abuse issues (65 percent), but only a small percentage of them receive adequate treatment, according to data from the National Institute on Drug Abuse.

Prisons should rediscover their core mission, which is correction, not punishment, Joel Feinman, public defender for Pima County, Arizona, told me. That means investing more in rehabilitation programs. Kara Gross, legislative director of the American Civil Liberties Union Foundation of Florida, also emphasized the importance of substance abuse and mental health programs.

In his book "The Body Keeps the Score", psychiatrist Bessel Van Der Kolk observed through numerous studies how individuals with a history of childhood abuse were more vulnerable to ending up in situations that could lead to incarceration. The author reflected on the positive impact of ive parents during the child-rearing process and mentioned a study in which nurses ed parents of school-age children living in violent neighborhoods. Twenty years later, these young people were healthier, less likely to end up in prison, and had better-paying jobs compared to the children of those who did not receive such help.

The psychiatrist then inferred that government for parents in Scandinavian countries, where more resources are invested in creating “safe and predictable” environments through benefits such as paid parental leave and quality child care, appears to impact not only academic outcomes but also 27 crime rates.

Second Chances

Why is it so difficult to start over? What needs to change in the U.S. criminal justice system to break the cycle of recidivism? It’s not just about keeping people coming out of prison away from crime; it’s about creating pathways that offer purpose and real opportunities for success.

There are many explanations for recidivism, but the fundamental issue is that these individuals “don’t have other opportunities; they don’t have a sustainable law-abiding lifestyle in front of them,” explained Kevin Wright, director of the Center for Correctional Solutions and associate professor at the School of Criminology and Criminal Justice at Arizona State University. He also noted that there is no easy solution because we need to “change the roots of poverty in our society” and improve access to quality education.

The journeys to freedom of several people interviewed for this book who were incarcerated in the United States show that there is no single pathway to transformation and reentry.

The process could begin with something as intimate as a desire to live a different reality, with a program that showed them they were capable of academic achievement, with a journey to faith or family or through a group that taught them that vulnerability is not weakness. As Wright put it, it can start with finding purpose.

Manuel Ruiz, one of the interviewees, reflected that his transformation began at Folsom State Prison in California when he ed the Inside Circle program. There, he began a process of “emotional literacy”: connecting with his feelings. “We [Hispanics] don’t open up. We don’t even acknowledge that ... there’s a problem with the way we do things.”

For Zachary Manuz, his initially hesitant speech became determined as he recounted the impact of the Inside-Out exchange program led by Wright. This is a college class that pairs University of Arizona students with incarcerated individuals. Manuz emphasized that the class allowed him to address his old forms of thinking and provided him with the foundation to start anew. “It was powerful and transformative,” he said. “We were showing them that we weren’t just animals.”

Ryan Moser asserts that he defined his journalism career while in prison. He participated in over a dozen courses with college professors through the Exchange 4 Change (E4C) program in Florida and began contributing as a columnist for a magazine.

He now serves on the board of E4C. “It was the genesis of my career as a writer,” he remarked. “It wasn’t just a course; it was a lifestyle. We had to make sure that we were doing everything right in our life to be able to gain this knowledge. ... I was very happy with myself, but not because of just the writing, but because it changed my attitude and I learned how to work with others. ... My family was very proud of me because I was doing something inside that was going to help my life later.”

Others, like Patricia Vildosola, have found in faith a way to accept themselves, regain their self-esteem and find inner peace: “Today that I love myself, I just want to put nothing but good in my life and show myself that I am worthy of all these things.”

That is why, when we retraced the lives of the 23 people portrayed in this book, we focused not on the actions that led to their sentences but on those that helped them become the people they are today.

A View Without Barriers

Venezuelan photographer David Maris has been portraying public figures from the world of politics, show business and sports for 24 years. He was a photo editor for Univision and currently works for The New York Times. Unlike his previous work, for "Portraits of a New Beginning," he made a decision that 29 was key to the result. The goal: to take an unbiased look at the subject.

At the time of the photo shoot, all Maris knew was that his subjects had been in prison. He remained unaware of the details of their sentences or the hardships they had endured. He used his lens to capture who they are today, without delving into their pasts, offering a view without barriers.

The result is still portraits of subjects posing in their own environments. Stripped of artifice, we perceive in their gazes invisible words that alternate between strength and weariness. What are they trying to say?

“To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt,” Susan Sontag wrote in "On Photography". With his portraits, Maris participates in the vulnerability of the characters and immortalizes a moment of the inner transformation of these people in their new lives.

As a whole, the collection of images Maris presents constitutes a broader portrait: lives in transition.

Go to the homepage of the book “Portraits of a New Beginning.”