By Never Hall
I was released from Stillwater Prison in June of 2024 after many reassurances from both my MNDOC Case Manager and my MNDOC Mental Health Counselor that I was being released to a housing facility that would be supportive of my mental health issues and my housing, employment and financial needs. None of these things were true. I was dropped off in an alley behind a homeless shelter at 510 S. 8th Street in Downtown Minneapolis. The guard who was driving the transport van, left me there and smiled, saying “See you soon.” Once I realized where I was, I knew exactly what she meant.
The shelter I had been left behind had no support for any of my needs. I was given a list of obsolete addresses and phone numbers of resources and left to my own devices.
To risk an estimate, I’d say that 90% of people getting out of prison don’t have the necessary skills and resources to remain law abiding after experiencing something similar to what happened to me. But I had been fortunate enough to have learned what I needed to know long before I’d ever been imprisoned. I did my own research, I contacted those who could actually help me, I found a better place to live, I stuck to my plan, I generated a network of support, and I utilized every opportunity to improve my situation.
Now, while doing what I can do to stay active in my community and help those who are not so lucky, I am meeting with people I knew while I was in prison who are now homeless, jobless and feeling hopeless. I meet their friends and families, also homeless. And there is a common thread, a common story shared by many of them: I got out. I was in a halfway house. I found a job that paid less than I needed to survive. I had to leave the halfway house. I slowly fell behind on my bills until I was homeless.
According to the Wilder Foundation Minnesota Homeless Study 2023, more than 60% of Minnesota’s homeless are people who have been released from Minnesota Prisons. And with nearly 20,000 homeless in a state of 1.5 million people, these numbers are significant.
Understand that the justice-impacted population does not only consist of those who have been in prison, jail or other forced carceral institutions. This population of residents includes the families, friends and the entire communities of those who have been locked away.
What affects a loved one affects those who love them—directly.
Yet, Minnesota has a culture that allows for policies that discriminate against, ostracize and condemn people who have done their time, paid their debt and are trying to regain a normal life.
The messages underlying these policies are: “You have a felony, so you can’t work here … you have a felony, so you can’t live here … you have a felony, so we can’t/won’t help you.” I have been interviewed for positions, reached my final interview, been introduced to the people I would be working with, and then, a day or two before I was to begin my new job, received a phone call from an HR Director telling me that they can’t hire me because I have a felony. This has happened to me three times, at three different Minneapolis companies. I have filled out applications for apartments, paid the first months’ rent and deposit, then received a call from management telling me that they will be granting me a full refund because I have a felony.
What this means is that every sentence is, unconstitutionally, a life sentence, in a society where people believe it is okay to punish people in perpetuity, in spite of the law.
My argument is that any notion in spite of the law is against the law. Which makes this behavior criminal, right? And this makes all those who practice this behavior criminal, right?
The legal definition of criminal behavior is any act that “cause[s] harm to the victim through factual (“but for”) and legal (proximate) causation.”
This notion that it is okay to ostracize and obfuscate the existence of another, and/or the means of another’s existence is criminal, because it causes harm by placing human beings in a situation that destroys any opportunity for them to live a normal human life. And the result is that Minnesota’s homeless population has increased over 25% since 2013.
It is time to rethink and correctly label the criminal bias and prejudice that is a primary factor in the exponential growth of homelessness in Minnesota.
To be a part of the economical and communal growth that is needed in Minnesota, let’s stop the cycle of harm against the justice-impacted community. Let’s welcome them home.