Prisoners are acquiring coding skills in detention. Obtaining employment opportunities might prove challenging.
For twelve weeks, the prisoners put in the hard yards, hunched over makeshift desks, staring at letters and lines of code. Their effort culminated in this: websites created from scratch and a certificate acknowledging their participation in college-accredited courses from prestigious institutions. Today, they join over 200 other inmates at correctional facilities nationwide who have completed the Brave Behind Bars program since its establishment in 2021.
A celebration of achievements looks a tad unusual within prison walls. Cupcakes adorned in yellow and blue frosting lined up alongside lemonade, iced tea, and chicken sandwiches awaited the inmates' eager snaps with Marisa Gaetz, Brave Behind Bars' co-founder. The food arrived much later than anticipated, but no one seemed to mind; patience is a virtue one learns to treasure behind bars, especially during rare celebratory moments.
Gaetz took a break from her PhD studies in Massachusetts to grace the occasion with her presence. Shedding light on her sentiments, she mentioned her eagerness to meet the inmates face to face and shower them with praise for their diligence. Her soft, deliberate speech mirrored the meticulousness with which these inmates manipulated code to bring websites to life.
One-by-one, the inmates stepped forward, collected their certificates, and posed for photoshoots with the program's movers and shakers. These momentos would have to suffice as a memento of this occasion; the physical certificate had to be sent to the inmates' legal representatives for safekeeping - to prevent forgeries and falsification attempts aimed at impressing judges without actually completing the course.
Whitelisted sites, limited computer time
In a neighboring classroom, contemporary pop music filled the air as inmates huddled over metal boxes and wiring, eager to gain skills in telecom equipment repair. This seemingly dangerous tool could pose a risk to their fellow detainees or jail staff outside the classroom's confines. Their teacher, Timothy Saunders, diligently checked and accounted for each tool handed out to ensure the safety of all involved. Saunders boasted that the course had been incident-free.
Saunders emphasized that the skills acquired in this class could secure six-figure jobs once the inmates were freed, provided they could navigate the post-prison job market and find someone willing to give them a chance. This class was just one of many educational opportunities available to inmates in the lower security facilities of Washington D.C.'s jails. Both administrators and inmates appreciated the opportunities afforded to them.
The importance of education in reducing recidivism
Study after study demonstrates that incarceration education plays an integral role in discouraging convicted individuals from re-offending. Unfortunately, many barriers prevent inmates from accessing the education they desire.
Thirty years ago, funding for prisoner education took a significant hit following the passage of the 1994 crime bill. However, lawmakers rectified this mistake by reinstating funding in 2020. Despite the restoration of funding, the disparity between the educational opportunities desired by inmates and the ones they can access remains staggering.
This disparity is fueled by the fact that many inmates lack even a high-school education, let alone access to college-level classes.
Jason McCrady, a former school counselor, now manages education programs at the Washington D.C. jail. His early experiences working with students often landed behind bars led him to take a position within the prison system to continue offering some form of education to those in need.
The pandemic proved to be a catalyst for education initiatives within jails and prisons, as in-person visits and services were curtailed, and digital communication tools became the new norm. In Washington D.C., this meant the introduction of secure tablets. These electronic devices considerably expanded opportunities for education and communication among inmates awaiting trials.
At the same time, these facilities maintained strict security measures. Communications could be monitored, functionality limited, and access to websites carefully regulated. Inmates enrolled in the coding class were treated to more technological freedom, albeit with regular restrictions on computer use and access to limited, pre-approved websites.
For Gaetz and her students, navigating these obstacles was worthwhile.
Reflecting on the power of education
The United States boasts the distinction of being the world's largest incarcerator, with over four million individuals detained or closely monitored, based on the latest statistics from the Department of Justice. The chasm separating the general population from the correctional system remains a formidable barrier to reform, activists argue.
Gaetz's connection to the correction system began in 2016 when she attended a philosophy class at a local prison, guided by her undergraduate instructor, Lee Perlman.
"Within minutes of sitting in that class, my perception of incarcerated individuals was forever altered," she recalls. "One of the inmates shared a tale of how no one believed in him before he began taking classes within the prison system. Suddenly, this one day a week, he was treated as a human being, a student, and someone whose opinions mattered."
Gaetz gained a newfound appreciation for the transformative power of education in a whole new context.
"MIT harbors some of the brightest minds on the planet," she says. "We all assume we'd excel, and here I was surrounded by individuals who had never received the encouragement we often take for granted."
Gaetz eagerly signed up to assist in the philosophy class.
Over the years, she completed her bachelor's degree in math and philosophy and began a PhD program in theoretical math. She had experimented with computer science courses and taught herself to code as a hobby. When the pandemic hit, and jails and prisons started exploring more connectivity, Gaetz, along with Emily Harberg and Martin Nisser, initiated a programming boot camp in 2021, first targeting women's correctional facilities in New England initially.
The program is straightforward. The trio, backed by an expanding cohort of expert mentors, teach the students the fundamentals of coding, with a customized website serving as their final project. Nevertheless, as with any education, the students pick up additional skills along the way. Coding requires perseverance and self-assurance, but also teamwork.
"A lot of people on Day One are honest and say they don't think they can do it," Gaetz says. "Seeing that they're able to do it can be really empowering."
Gaetz recognizes that some may feel uncomfortable teaching even basic programming to individuals who have committed or are accused of committing crimes. However, she emphasizes that the students graduate with the ability to construct a website, not hack or engage in other cybercrimes.
Opportunity outside of prison
Although there are concerns about AI taking over coding jobs, Gaetz argues that today, AI is primarily used to aid in coding, while most software engineering jobs still require a human touch. Moreover, many of the students entering the course have limited computer experience, so the program helps build digital literacy, confidence, and problem-solving skills, in addition to coding skills. These talents are highly sought after by employers.
Which leads us to the next logical inquiry: Can these students utilize these skills to earn a living?
In the DC classroom, the students created websites showcasing their passions or interests. Topics varied: One individual with tape holding his glasses together, created a site to discuss the high societal toll of poverty. Another delivered a tribute to the positive effects of music. The class's sole female student, Iesha Marks, or Tazz, built a website to assist women, like her, who suffer from domestic violence.
Like Tazz in DC, several students have faced challenges. Tazz's story includes elements of trauma, having been diagnosed with PTSD following a stabbing. She, in turn, is accused of causing significant harm, pleading guilty to attempted assault with a weapon in 2021. Although she claims innocence, she has been held on charges of shooting and killing a man, Donald Childs, on a bustling DC street in July 2023, and has pleaded not guilty. Her defense attorneys have used her participation in the coding course and her behavior during her extended detention as evidence of her stability and her desire for supervised release to care for her children ahead of the trial. The judge declined, ordering her to remain in custody until her trial in 2026.
During lunch break, Tazz shared that, at first, she was unsure if she would be able to tackle this topic. Now, scrolling through her site, filled with resources for other survivors, she glows with the prospect: possibly, she has created a space for other women to discover help and hope.
It's not just Tazz in DC. Gaetz explains that some of their earliest successes involved collaborating with female inmates. Some of the coding program's first students were female inmates in New England. Some of the alumni from this group have created and maintain a site called Reentry Sisters, dedicated to assisting women return to society after lengthy prison terms. The well-designed site features inspiring stories and valuable advice. It also serves as a reminder of the challenging period that awaits even the most dedicated student of this program.
‘I have gray hair because of coding’
Steve Johnson, an early graduate of the program, remembers the fear when his parole officer demanded that he find employment within two weeks. With a conviction for armed robbery, despite serving time, he struggled to secure employment.
He turned to the internet, searching for assistance in finding a job or obtaining the necessary education for this new economy. The search result brought up a familiar name: Lee Perlman, Gaetz's undergraduate professor. "I cold called him," Johnson recalled. "Within a day, we'd connected, created a plan, and got me into the coding program." Johnson loved Brave Behind Bars so much that he continued his involvement as a teaching assistant after graduation. "That role has been very helpful," he said. "When you're teaching something to someone, you have to know it inside out. The thing I like the most is helping someone who is not very proficient and making their life easier by integrating a tech-based solution for them."
Johnson's experience, by several measures, represents a favorable outcome. Since his release, he has learned a valuable digital skill, is sharing this knowledge with others, and has undertaken various contract coding jobs. He feels passionate about finding problems and developing solutions.
However, despite his success, Johnson worries that his past might still hold him back. His jobs have all been with organizations interested in rehabilitation and prison reform. He wonders if they hire him to validate their involvement in the area. He longs to be judged, whether positively or negatively, purely based on his current skills, not his criminal record.
Currently, he's aiming for another transformation, joining a 17-week tech incubator program with Defy Ventures. This organization specializes in equipping ex-convicts with entrepreneurial skills. Believing he can't impress his employer with his past accomplishments, he thinks about becoming the employer himself. This way, he could hire individuals based on their current abilities, ignoring their past record.
This situation is often likened to a formidable challenge faced by those released from prison. They struggle to secure jobs or housing post-incarceration. Once served their time, how can they assure others of their trustworthiness? For Johnson, this is a practical concern. He ponders, "Would you want your neighbor to commit a crime again?" The statistics on this matter are crystal clear: improved education and employment opportunities significantly reduce the likelihood of re-offending. And once more, Johnson has pinpointed the issue, but unlike coding, this issue has no straightforward, ready-made solution. Modifying perceptions calls for more time and endurance than debugging flawed code.
The program's objective is to equip inmates with coding skills, as demonstrated by Steve Johnson, an early graduate who now uses his knowledge to assist others.
The increase in educational opportunities has led to significant improvements in the job market for those who have completed programs like Brave Behind Bars. For instance, Tazz, a DC student, has created a website to help domestic violence survivors, showcasing her newfound digital skills.
