Content warning: This story includes reference to a suicide attempt.
The Foundation of HOPE pod in the Allegheny County Jail does not look like a typical jail pod. The murals on the cell walls, painted by people incarcerated there, each feature a different value of the organization: peace, perseverance, integrity, hope.
“If you get the bad side of the coin, flip it,” reads one mural with a painting of a bronze penny. “Choose respect over disregard,” reads another. On the other side of the room, a bookshelf with romance and mystery novels allows participants to grow their literacy skills while incarcerated. Next to the bookshelf is a bulletin board featuring job postings and information about getting a GED.
Foundation of HOPE, a voluntary program within the jail, allows individuals to envision their lives beyond incarceration, providing them with courses such as financial literacy and anger management to give them the skills to reenter society.
It also aims to reduce the likelihood that their futures involve a return trip — at least the involuntary kind. Nearly half of people released from the jail end up back there within two years — a statistic that has remained steady for at least a dozen years.
For the past 10 years, the pod has held a graduation ceremony for incarcerated individuals who successfully complete the HOPE curriculum which also includes classes such as parenting, exploring trauma and spiritual formation. The ceremonies happen every six to eight weeks, according to Jesse Geleynse, the ACJ’s public information officer.
At a July graduation ceremony for the men’s pod, DuJuan Williamson spoke to the graduating class about how “surreal” it was to be back in the jail after being released three years ago.
“I keep staring at my cell, cell 124,” Williamson said while holding back tears. He told the crowd of about 25 men in green uniforms to “keep going” despite the hardships that incarceration brings. He encouraged the men to keep reaching out and asking for help when they need it.
Every month, Foundation of HOPE receives roughly 100 applications from men and women at the Allegheny County Jail who wish to participate in their pre-release program, according to Tre’ Thomas, the senior project director at the ACJ.
Pod space limits the program to 50 to 75 participants at a time, less than the demand from the rest of the ACJ, according to Thomas. He said there is usually a 40-to-50-person waitlist.
In order to be admitted to the program, participants must have been out of disciplinary housing for 90 days, with bond under $50,000, and have a minimum or medium security classification.
Bethany Hallam, a member of Allegheny County Council who sits on the ACJ oversight board, said that while Foundation of HOPE is a “great program,” its biggest problem is that it is limited to a very small subset of people in the jail.
“If programming in general was expanded to everyone in the jail, you would see our recidivism rate drop instantly. Most people do not have access to Foundation of HOPE programming or even most programming in the jail,” said Hallam who spent time in the jail more than a decade ago.
‘Don’t let it be a revolving door’
Foundation of Hope requires more than 120 hours of group work and the passing of a final exam, according to the website.
Thomas said that the program has served thousands of people since it began in the early 2000s.
ACJ’s overall recidivism rates have remained largely unchanged.
While the HOPE pod does not have available data on recidivism for its graduates, staff keep track of each participant’s written reflection at the completion of the program. According to Thomas, the organization follows participants after completion of the program to ensure that they don’t return to jail.
Charlene Claypoole, who teaches courses in trauma management, parenting and creative writing, said she tries to instill a sense of dignity in program participants. While those who have been in the incarceration system for a while might be known only by their assigned number, Claypoole said her job is not to judge them.
“I try to give them their name back and make them feel human,” said Claypoole, a master’s student at Carlow University.
Instead of asking them what they did, she asks them what happened. Asking participants about their background can be humanizing, she said, because many people end up in jail due to unfortunate situations or desperate measures they took in response.
Steven Tory, who was incarcerated for five months while awaiting trial, said he was looking for a purpose when he decided to apply to the HOPE pod. Since joining the program, he’s enjoyed the meditation and parenting classes offered by Claypoole, which have motivated him to be a better role model for his 7-year-old son. He emphasized the importance of choice in wanting a better life as he spoke to his cohort during the graduation ceremony.
“Don’t let it be a revolving door,” Tory said of life in prison.
Programs like Foundation of HOPE are helping people in jail imagine a different future for themselves. Tyriee Kasper, who has been in ACJ for three months, said he feels an “increased sense of purpose,” after completing the HOPE program. He can imagine his life outside and has a good financial plan for when he’s released thanks to the financial literacy course he took.
“It’s never too late to start over,” said Kasper to his peers.
James Cassom said the program has helped him with anger and trauma management. After a previous suicide attempt on a different pod, Cassom now feels like he has the tools to understand and cope with his trauma.
“You can’t really explain hope, you have to step into it,” said Cassom.
Giving individuals reasons to hope is central to Rodger Jay’s work. Jay spent 25 years in prison before becoming the peer support specialist at Foundation of HOPE, where he said he is the most tenured employee.
“During my imprisonment, I prayed and asked God to show me what my purpose was because I had been a drug user for a long time,” said Jay. “Sure enough it was about lifting up and encouraging other prisoners, letting them know that you don’t have to live like this anymore.” He said he tries to pass on this message to the prisoners he works with at the ACJ.
Tory said Jay’s class helped him realize he could change his attitude.
“They know that they can change because they take my experience,” said Jay, adding that reentry into society wasn’t easy. After 25 years inside, he initially found himself overcautious in situations like crossing the street, because he was not used to traffic.
“You have to get used to being on the outside after you’ve been on the inside for a while,” said Jay.
Life after release
Transitioning from jail, referred to as reentry, can be disorienting, but Foundation of HOPE tries to make it as smooth as possible.
JR Cucurollo, who was released in April, said it was a “blessing from heaven” to find out about the program during his reentry. He said staff helped him with everything from getting a bus pass and paying his first month of rent to creating business cards for his barber services.
“I just felt like they believed in me,” said Cucurollo. He now works full time for two barber shops. He said he wants to work toward being financially secure and develop his appreciation for nature.
Dashawn Reid, who was released in September, said Foundation of HOPE helped him with clothing and hygiene as he transitioned back to society.
“After 12 years, I didn’t know how messed up I was. When I got out, I started smelling real cooked food,” said Reid.
Foundation of HOPE has been critical in helping him pay his first month of rent, buying furniture and getting a job. He didn’t know how to use the bus or download apps on an iPhone. Though he struggled initially to get hired because of his felony charges, he now holds multiple jobs, including working at Foundation of HOPE and as a contractor.
What’s next?
As they cheered for each other, each new graduate stepped up to receive their diploma and sign a wall with participants from years prior. They enjoyed a small reception as many looked forward to their upcoming release and reentry.
Thomas said that the graduation allows for participants to celebrate the choice they made to join the HOPE pod.
“Residents make a choice to sign up for the program, a choice to wake up each morning to attend classes, a choice to complete homework, and many other choices throughout their day that help to keep them on the path of rehabilitation,” said Thomas.
He said that although there isn’t an explicit guarantee of earlier release, sometimes judges will take participation in the program into consideration when deciding on a sentence.
“I salute you for your surrender,” Williamson told the crowd as they embarked on their next chapter of life, one where incarceration would hopefully be nothing more than a fading memory.
Ada Perlman is an editorial intern at Public Source. She can be reached at ada@publicsource.org.
This story was fact checked by Feixu Chen.
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