I recently learned of a new phrase in the criminal justice reform arena — “collateral consequences” — and decided I needed to understand more about this.
For the returning citizen or ex-convict, collateral consequences are the consequences of a criminal conviction that are not part of the civil, state penalties — incarceration, fines or probation. They are additional actions triggered by a conviction. Loss of professional license, ineligibility for public funds, and loss of voting rights are among thousands of consequences that make coming home and staying home nearly impossible.
As I think about the effect of collateral consequences on the returning citizen, something dawned on me. What about collateral consequences to the community and to businesses? — consequences that reach deep into every one of us?
As a mother of a Georgia inmate, his incarceration has had a profound impact on the way I have lived for the past four years. The pain that goes with being dragged through the mire of the criminal justice system, and fear of the unknown world of incarceration, has directly affected how and with whom I do business. It has changed the way I vote and the way I see the world. It has changed me.
I don’t have the same losses forced on me as my son will when he returns, but I have collateral consequences none the less. My income is less because I had to give up a full-time job so that I could advocate for my son, hence I pay less taxes. Because my income is less, my spending has decreased. In fact, I have not spent a fraction of what I did in pre-prison years, except to support my son. Between phones, commissary, gas to visit, quarters for vending during visits, books, magazines, shoes, shirts, etc., I have spent nearly $50,000, and this doesn’t even count legal fees or my time. It’s money I can’t get back, and money I didn’t spend in my community.
On top of the loss of money, I no longer find the need to have a spontaneous meal out on the town or to buy that pretty bobble; I no longer have the desire to support things that have no depth or meaning. When you have someone you love in prison, you are basically in prison with them, so being frivolous with your time and money becomes painful, especially considering how meagerly they live.
Multiply this by the 55,000 Georgia families that have a loved one in prison, and I think the numbers speak for themselves. Families torn apart by mass incarceration have an enormous responsibility to forsake things to help their loved ones. They also must prepare to support them when they return, because returning citizens are barely able to find work due to the collateral consequences of their convictions. And 90percent of them will return one day.
Our business leaders and owners need to understand my son’s incarceration and the collateral consequences it had on my family directly hit them in their wallets. Our lawmakers need to understand they have collateral consequences as well. The families of the incarcerated are joining forces, becoming one voice. You see, one thing we haven’t lost is our ability to vote. This is what I call freedom.
Kate Boccia is board chairman of The Hub Family Resource Center.
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