What’s a good job for formerly incarcerated people?

When people in the corrections field are asked that question, you often hear this mantra: Get a job, any job. The idea is that work will reduce your risk of going back behind bars. As a result, people coming out of prison feel pushed to take crappy jobs that have difficult schedules, low pay, no benefits, or poor working conditions.

That’s bad advice. In my research with other scholars, we’ve found that formerly incarcerated people just churn through jobs like that. Indeed, taking a bad job doesn’t protect you from recidivism or the other struggles too often faced by the formerly incarcerated. In one study, looking at formerly incarcerated young men in Michigan, over one-quarter of people coming out of prison experienced persistent desperation and struggle, including periods of homelessness; another one-third had intermittent periods of desperation, and struggle for survival.

Instead, we need to think of work for the formerly incarcerated the same way that we think of jobs for anyone without a lot of recent work experience or education. That means formerly incarcerated people need the same things from jobs that everyone does: a living wage, a job ladder to allow for the acquisition of skills and promotion, and stability, especially in scheduling.

When you understand this, you can see why we’ve made only slow progress in employment for formerly incarcerated people.

There have been some gains. Largely due to a tight labor market, we’re getting more incarcerated people in the door. Employers need more workers, so some businesses have been more open to hiring people with criminal records. Also, governments and nonprofits are offering more reintegration programs that include job training.

Changes in laws may have helped, too—like “ban the box” laws that prevent employers from asking job applicants on their applications whether they’ve ever been convicted of a felony. These laws were a response to a surge in harsh sentencing laws and mass incarceration during the 1980s and 1990s.

But “banning the box” isn’t enough. First, employers can still conduct background checks—they just need to wait to do so until later in the hiring process, usually once a provisional hiring decision has been made. Second, when formerly incarcerated people do get jobs, they can have trouble holding onto them. This is partly because formerly incarcerated people often end up in the least desirable jobs, which experience considerable turnover among all employees, not just those with criminal records. The formerly incarcerated often face other barriers to stable employment, too, like housing insecurity, health problems, and parole supervision by a punitive justice system.

And even when formerly incarcerated employees manage to settle in and succeed in their jobs, moving up is tricky. Going up a job ladder is difficult for people with criminal records. Indeed, even moving laterally or diagonally can be challenging within a company, with different bosses having different attitudes. It’s even harder when getting ahead means changing firms. The standards and scrutiny of a candidate with a record are different for entry-level jobs than for supervisory positions. Sometimes, skills training or licensing programs, which people must complete to advance, maintain prohibitions on those with criminal records.

Changes in corporate structure also make upward mobility difficult. It used to be more common for people to rise from the entry-level to upper management of a company. Today’s most profitable and dynamic companies often rely on high-skill or high-education workers. Formerly incarcerated people who work at such companies might well start out working for contractors, as janitors or cafeteria workers. What is their path to becoming employees and rising?

Companies need to do more to support formerly incarcerated workers and create internal job ladders. There are also many ways public policy can assist formerly incarcerated people in their job paths and career trajectories. California’s openness in this area makes it an important laboratory.

I’ve seen possibilities in the research I’ve done with other scholars, based on huge data sets on thousands of young men in the state of Michigan during the 2000s. We tracked these young men for many years after they left prison.

Our findings suggest that California, and other states open to reform, can help in many ways: through greater housing supports (to prevent residential stability), through mental health and substance abuse supports, and through changes to harmful parole systems that often prioritize surveillance and punishment over reintegration. Indeed, my research suggests that people who do best after leaving prison combine multiple sources of support—including employment, public benefits, and support from their social networks and families.

States can make parole less intrusive and more flexible, to meet the needs of workers. Too often, parole involves surveillance and mandatory check-ins that can disrupt job schedules. It also can impose short-term custodial sanctions—like being sent back to jail temporarily—that cost the formerly incarcerated their jobs, housing, and income.

California and other states also could do more to integrate formerly incarcerated people into higher education. Formerly incarcerated people understand the importance of education for success in the labor market. In our Michigan study, we found that more than one-quarter of the young men enrolled in college sometime after leaving prison.

Higher education doesn’t just help with employment. It provides intellectual development, opportunities to establish pro-social peer groups, new social identities, and a sense of belonging and purpose. Research shows it also reduces the likelihood of recidivism.

Changes being made within prisons provide new reasons to be optimistic. Incarcerated students are now eligible for Pell grants from the federal government, making it possible for community colleges and other post-secondary institutions to create new college and training programs in prison. And organizations like the Petey Greene Program, where I serve on the board, are pioneering new educational programs to help those serving time in prisons and jails prepare for college-level study.

When they come home from prison, formerly incarcerated students need more support services, such as academic and financial counseling to succeed, just like other low-income and first-generation students. Colleges should also open eligibility for campus housing or work-study programs, which sometimes bar students with records. Community colleges could help by incorporating more job skills into classes and integrating paid internships since formerly incarcerated students often have to support themselves and their families while they go to school. Also, parole should treat college attendance like employment, making parole less onerous and shorter for people who complete degrees or certificates.

Making such commitments will enrich colleges and universities. At UC Berkeley, where I teach, the Berkeley Underground Scholars, an organization of students incarcerated or impacted by the justice system, have excelled in academics and leadership. More universities have begun similar programs for formerly incarcerated students.

The goal of all such policies is to help formerly incarcerated people find the right job, and not have to settle for just any job.

The post People Coming Out of Prison Need Good Jobs, Too appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.

In March 2020, when Congress enacted the country’s first-ever federal paid sick time and child care leave policy, it carved millions of people out of the law’s guarantees, including one group that the nation was simultaneously hailing as heroes: health care workers.

The law, which was in place from April to December 2020, provided eligible workers up to 80 hours of paid sick leave to address COVID, and 10 additional weeks of child care leave for COVID-related interruptions. The law excluded large companies and their employees, and had rules that allowed very small companies to deny child care leave to their workers. An additional carveout for health care workers and first responders meant that an employer could claim hardship and deny a request for sick leave or child care leave, without any proof required.

This exemption sent the message that health care workers were so “essential” that they could be forced to care for others even when they and their families had needs of their own.

Even before COVID-19, turnover in the health care workforce was a concern. During the pandemic, the stress on health care workers, especially women, was profound. After COVID, substantial shares of workers reported burnout and said they were considering leaving the health care profession—and women were more likely than men to say they might find other work.

Now, the United States is in the midst of a health care workforce crisis, caused in part by the inability of nurses, physicians, and other caregivers to care for themselves and their families. The stability and quality of the health care sector, which is overwhelmingly comprised of women workers, and the country, depends on addressing this challenge.

There is no silver bullet that can create better quality jobs across the entire health care industry, but public investments in child care, higher wages for the lowest paid workers, and paid leave for all would go a long way—and would even contribute to economic growth in the process.

Child care for health care workers is a major issue—more than in other sectors because of the disproportionate shareof family caregiving that women do. A 2022 study of nurses and teachers found that 11 percent of workers reported that child care issues affected their ability to work compared to 6 percent of workers in other industries. Women nurses and teachers were 54 percent more likely than men to report that child care affected their ability to work.

On-site child care—with hours that reflect the long, irregular shifts that nurses and other health care workers must work—is one solution. But on-site child care arrangements can be tenuous. Earlier this year, a major health care center in Nebraska announced it would close its child care center, causing concerns that the shutdown would further exacerbate worker shortages.

And not all health care workers work in a facility that can support a child care center, or work in a facility at all. Which is why creating universal access to high-quality, affordable child care, and improving the quality of child care jobs is so critical.

Fair, family-supporting wages are also important, and workers in direct care jobs, like personal care and home health aides, face particular precarity. Those who work full-time receive average wages of just over $600 per week, or just over $15 per hour for 40 hours per week of work. Immigrant, Black, Latine, and Asian workers comprise substantial shares of this workforce, and often face circumstances at home and on the job that are more difficult than those of white workers. Workers who cannot afford to support themselves and their families—much less pay others to care for their families while they, in turn, care for others—are more likely to leave the field entirely, causing care challenges for family members who need to work and care gaps for patients.

Direct care workers, like millions of other U.S. workers, also often have both children and older adults or loved ones with disabilities to care for. Yet they are extremely unlikely to have paid sick time or paid family and medical leaveunless they live in one of the minority of states that guarantees one or both of these policies. And even if they are in the right state, they may not get paid sick time or paid leave because of eligibility rules.

Creating national paid sick time,  as well as paid family and medical leave programs for all working people, could provide the scaffolding on which the medical profession could build.

Paid leave policies are also essential for patients and their families, covering time they need away from work to deal with their health (an argument the American Academy of Pediatrics has made to federal lawmakers). Physicians would also benefit from these programs. While they have more access to paid and unpaid leave, they face often unreasonable expectations about training, hours, and shifts that make work and family incompatible. Women now represent more than half of medical school students but they make up just 37 percent of active physicians in the United States.

A recent American Board of Medical Specialties policy offering parental leave to medical residents is a good start. But these leaves are relatively short, may be unpaid, and do not extend to other family caregiving needs. Access to and utilization of leave by female and male physicians are uneven nationwide due to both policy gaps and cultural professional norms.

Family-friendly job schedules, flexible work, job-sharing arrangements, and access to child and elder care—on a gender-equal basis—are also important in order to mitigate bias and encourage the use of these arrangements.

A vibrant, healthy, and well-supported health care workforce is in everyone’s interest. At some point, we all need emergency care, preventive care, or assistance with ongoing or serious acute conditions, and health professionals are our first call. Communities, businesses, and the economy also benefit when we are all healthy.

Those who care for us deserve to be able to manage their personal and professional lives with dignity because essential health care workers are human. Practices and policies must reflect and honor their humanity.

The post Who Cares for Caregivers’ Families While They’re Caring for Us? appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.