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SEARCHING FOR HOME: WHERE IS MY FAIR CHANCE?

BY HILTON N. WEBB, JR. Fortune Academy Resident and Fair Chance for Housing Advocate

When I was released from prison after almost 28 years behind bars, I was thrust into a world completely unfamiliar to me. I had spent the better part of three decades waiting to go home but on the day of my release, I had no parole-approved “home” to return to.

According to the NYS Department of Corrections and Community Supervision, anyone released from state prison without an approved place to live must report to a homeless shelter. This is ironic. As an incarcerated person, I was “housed” in the prison system. As a free man navigating the long and arduous journey towards regaining the humanity I lost while incarcerated, I was homeless. and rebuild supportive relationships.

For decades, I’ve worked both inside and out to become a contributing member of society. While incarcerated, I took college classes and earned a degree. Once out, I became a Certified Recovery Peer Advocate to combat the opioid epidemic plaguing the country. I am a recent graduate of Lehman College with a Masters of Social Work and a certified alcoholism and substance abuse counselor trainer, all done in an effort to give back and contribute to a more just society. I’m also involved with the Fair Chance for Housing campaign at John Jay College’s Institute for Justice and Opportunity, co-led with Fortune’s policy team.

Yet, because of background checks and my need to live a life of authenticity, I am stuck in transitional housing rather than moving on and making much needed room for the next released person. I’ve served my time and done my part to change; now, it’s time for New York to change. It is imperative that we pass the Fair Chance for Housing Act, an act in front of the New York City Council which would eliminate background checks or inquiries about arrest or conviction history when applying for housing, so that people like me don’t have to pay in perpetuity for crimes after they have served their time. 

When I arrived at the homeless shelter, a staff member referred to me as “nondescript.” Her word choice initially shocked me; but after weeks roaming the city streets looking for identification, employment and a place to call home, the “nondescript” label made sense. As a formerly incarcerated person of color forced into the City’s shelter system, I am both invisible and ubiquitous. I am the person on the subway whose body odor offends you. I am the woman on the corner whose sad story elicits the occasional crumpled dollar. I am that vaguely human specter who haunts the streets

looking for all that he has lost. I am the pedestrian at whom passersby sneer “Get a job!” I am a name on a rejected tenant application, repeatedly set aside when the background check returns. I was fortunate to have found The Fortune Society and after attending many Thursday night community meetings, I was accepted into the Fortune family and moved into their transitional housing facility, Fortune Academy, aka “the Castle.” I was able to find family, friendship and guidance in a safe, secure place where I no longer had to watch my back. I engaged in job readiness workshops wherein I learned how to reframe my prison jobs into real world experience

“It is imperative that we pass the Fair Chance for Housing Act, an act in front of the New York City Council which would eliminate background checks or inquiries about arrest or conviction history when applying for housing ...”

and to answer the question “Why was I in prison?” I learned that being honest with an explanation was the best approach because the truth never comes back at you. Besides, you can’t hide from the reaches of the allknowing Google search.

In prison, I often dreamed of finding a job and a place of my own, two of the most foundational aspects of successful reentry. Research shows that having safe and adequate housing increases the likelihood that a person leaving prison or jail will be able to connect with new or existing family support, find and retain employment and rebuild supportive relationships.

For decades, I’ve worked both inside and out to become a contributing member of society. While incarcerated, I took college classes and earned a degree. Once out, I became a Certified Recovery Peer Advocate to combat the opioid epidemic plaguing the country. I am a recent graduate of Lehman College with a Masters of Social Work and a certified alcoholism and substance abuse counselor trainer, all done in an effort to give back and contribute to a more just society. I’m also involved with the Fair Chance for Housing campaign at John Jay College’s Institute for Justice and Opportunity, co-led with Fortune’s policy team.

Yet, because of background checks and my need to live a life of authenticity, I am stuck in transitional housing rather than moving on and making much needed room for the next released person. I’ve served my time and done my part to change; now, it’s time for New York to change. It is imperative that we pass the Fair Chance for Housing Act, an act in front of the New York City Council which would eliminate background checks or inquiries about arrest or conviction history when applying for housing, so that people like me don’t have to pay in perpetuity for crimes after they have served their time. •

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