Pubdate: Tue, 13 Jan 2004 Source: Pensacola News Journal (FL) Copyright: 2004 The Pensacola News Journal Contact: http://www.pensacolanewsjournal.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1675 Author: Ronald Fraser STATE MUST DO MORE TO ENSURE EX-PRISONERS STAY OUT OF JAIL A felony conviction in Florida triggers not one, but two kinds of punishment - - one visible, the other hidden. First, a conviction often means a prison term. But once that debt is paid, and just as the former inmate begins piecing together a shattered life, barriers to finding a place to live and getting a job kick in. Telling felons they are free to rejoin civil life but then placing obstacles in their way is bad public policy. This "yes-but" behavior has become a much bigger problem recently. It took 200 years, from 1789 to 1990, for America's prison population to reach the one million mark. Then, in only 10 more years the number of people behind bars doubled to two million. A lot of the increase consists of non-violent drug offenders who don't deserve the double punishment they often get. During the 1990s officials in Washington and Tallahassee were busy filling our prisons. Now, with more than 600,000 ex-prisoners re- entering society each year, it's time they do a better job converting inmates into productive citizens. For most inmates, prison means more than the loss of physical freedom. Families are split up. Children lose a mother or father. Absent wage- earners and financial troubles go hand in hand. All of this breaks down a person's place in his or her community. Nevertheless, an earlier study showed that between 1986 and 1996 state imposed post-prison punishments surged. States permanently barring felons from voting increased from 11 to 14; states permitting termination of parental rights went from 16 to 19; and states requiring felons to register with the local police shot up from eight to 46. By 1996, a felony conviction was legal grounds for a divorce in 29 states. A forthcoming Legal Action Center study titled, "After Prison: Roadblocks to Reentry," identifies post-prison restrictions that make a felon's re-entry in Florida rockier than it ought to be. Jobs: Finding a job after jail is a big challenge. Some states make matters worse by putting public employment out of reach of a convicted felon. In Florida, a felony record - on its own - may be used to deny employment in police and fire departments. For other public agencies to turn a felon away solely based on a conviction, the offense must be directly related to the prospective job. Private employers are free to do as they please. Public Housing: A felon can be denied public housing in Florida. The Miami-Dade Housing Authority, for example, may bar a felon for three years after release for drug-related crimes and five years for violent offenses. Driver's License: Drug-related convictions in Florida can result in the loss of a driver's license for six months to two years. For six months the state cannot even grant a restricted license for purposes of employment, education or medical care. Don't get me wrong. Society must set rules and dish out just and constructive punishments. But statutory penalties on top of a prison sentence only brand ex-inmates, including many thousands of low-level drug offenders who have never harmed others, as bad people. Should state governments, in effect, be in the business of promoting unemployment, divorce and single parent families? Once the prison time is done, the state should help ex-convicts rebuild their lives. Jeremy Travis of the Urban Institute in Washington says that we could better judge the merits of these back-door punishments if states gave them greater public exposure and debate. Unlike the operation of prisons, according to Travis, civil punishments don't run up large administrative costs and taxes. The result? These hidden punishments seldom get the public airing they deserve. Travis may, however, be understanding the true costs attached to these hidden punishments. Sure, if Florida's re-entry barriers lead to a felon's failure to put together a new life, the individual incurs a huge personal cost. But when that person's troubles mount the prospects for more crime mount, too. And if he or she is sent back to jail for a technical parole infraction, as is often the case, or for a new crime resulting from a shattered life, who picks up the $49.39 a day room and board tab? Why, Florida taxpayers, of course. In the end, these hidden punishments also have real hidden costs. Ronald Fraser writes on public policy issues for the DKT Liberty Project, a Washington-based civil liberties organization. - --- MAP posted-by: Josh