Rhonda Seraaj and Reconnect: Finding Value and a Voice
Rhonda Seraaj - "Just because I am an African American woman, just because I was incarcerated, just because I was homeless does not mean I do not have value. My life has a value.”
Post by Jessica Hunt
You name it; Rhonda Seraaj has probably seen it or been through it.
Rhonda, raised in Minneapolis, has been incarcerated twice in her life. In 1988, the first time, she was charged with attempted murder, which was later dropped to assault in the first degree. She ultimately spent 24 months at Oregon Women’s Correctional Facility.
Four years later, she was charged with assault in the second degree and malicious punishment toward one of her children. She was then sent to Minnesota Correctional Facility—Shakopee.
During this time, the devastation of losing custody of her children and a lack of visitors led her to attempt suicide while in prison.
“Basically I was just giving up on my life,” she said. “I felt like everybody else had given up on me, including society.”
As she transitioned back into society, housing posed the biggest barrier and she remained homeless from 1996 to 2006. Throughout this time, Rhonda learned to survive in different ways- whether that meant sleeping under a bridge, living with friends off and on, or staying in various homeless shelters during the winter.
“Nobody wanted anybody with assault and attempted murder (convictions) living in their apartment building,” she said.
To overcome negative thinking and the challenges of homelessness, Rhonda became active with several organizations after her second release in 1996: the Council on Crime and Justice, Students against Homelessness and Hunger (SAHH), and Parenting with Positive Discipline, the ICCM Life Skills Center street team, and the House of Charity Food Center.
“If you want to be able to change the people around you, you have to change the type of people around you,” she said.
Her grandmother, who passed away in 2007, was a fundamental mentor and resource for Rhonda and always stressed the importance of education.
“She always taught me you will never get anywhere in life if you don’t get your education,” Rhonda said. “I overcame many obstacles in order to do that.”
Dedicated to living the life her grandmother wanted for her, Rhonda began to attend Minneapolis Community Technical College (MCTC) in 2009 and in December obtained her bachelor’s degree in social services.
“That was my fuel, my fire to keep me going … to know that just because I am an African American woman, just because I was incarcerated, just because I was homeless does not mean I do not have value. My life has a value.”
As part of her schooling, Rhonda interned at Amicus with Reconnect services. Having experienced prison herself ultimately drew her to Amicus.
“I get such an inner joy,” she said. “If I can help at least one person to not go down the same road that I took at the age that I started out… then I know I didn’t live my life in vain.”
At Amicus, Rhonda said she discovered more about herself and the importance of becoming more patient and tolerant. Yet she is also reminded that she does not want to return to prison, and knows how the stigma of living with a criminal background will continue to make her life challenging. As she continues to looking into job leads, this is something she will have to face and overcome.
“Whatever my crimes may be, whatever people’s opinions are of me, you have to learn to let that go, in order for you to be able to be a whole person and be a creative person in society with your own ideas, your own thoughts, your own feelings,” she said.
Rhonda’s immediate plans are to take more business courses, building her skillset to work toward establishing a multi-faceted organization that will assist a variety of people in need. She envisions a hub where people have all the services they need in one location. She also dreams of expanding such services globally and, more locally, she wants to find ways to aid youth in North Minneapolis.
Rhonda particularly wants to help people learn to express the things that many others would be afraid to express.
“Do not be ashamed, do not be afraid,” she said. “Everybody’s voice means something.”
From the Military to Prison to a Second Chance: Helping Veterans Find Their Bridge to a Better Future
Editor’s Note: The “Inside Change” team is very pleased to include this post from Amanda Maassen, the new Community Development Liaison working with the Amicus Veterans Justice Program on our blog. The Amicus program is part of the Veteran Justice Corps, an AmeriCorps Program coordinated locally by the Council on Crime and Justice and partnering with both the MN Department of Corrections and Hennepin County. Please consider getting involved with this exciting and much-needed initiative!
Post by Amanda Maassen
I have always known veterans. Both of my grandfathers were veterans; my dad, a few uncles, and an aunt are veterans. My whole life, I viewed veterans as regular people who had regular people problems and lived regular people lives because that is exactly who the veterans in my life were. It was not until I found out that my best friend’s husband, an Army Infantry Soldier with 27 months of combat experience in Iraq, was struggling with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) that I realized the extent of sacrifices veterans often make. When a politician talks about a veteran making “the ultimate sacrifice” I realized that it is not just a cliché. And finally I realized is that the sacrifice a soldier makes can be all-encompassing – impacting their physical, mental and emotional well-being.
I write about this story because this is the motive that brought me to the brand new Veteran’s Justice Program at Amicus. My best friend is the strongest and most inspiring person that I have ever known. She has dedicated herself to helping those who are struggling with the effects of military culture, especially war. She is a writer and manages two blogs that tell the stories of Wounded Warrior Wives and other family members. She wants to give a voice to those who cannot find their own. She wants to provide a safe place for those who want to scream their heart-wrenching stories.
After hearing my best friend’s story, it gave me an entirely new perspective and inspired me to do my part to give back to those men and women who have served our country. The Veteran’s Justice Program at Amicus is dedicated to helping veterans who happen to have a criminal record. As an organization that is well-aware of the hardships and challenges that ex-offenders face when transitioning back into the community, Amicus recognized what a difficult transition veterans who have been incarcerated may have in returning to civilian life. In recognition of these added challenges, Amicus created a program that could help assist veterans in their dual transition.
The Veteran’s Justice Program simply wants be a bridge for those veterans who are currently in prison or those who have ever been to prison. For all participants, regardless of how long they have been transitioning back into the community, the Veteran’s Justice Program is here to be a support network for that almost inevitable time when their long path gets bumpy.
There are many veteran-specific programs in our community. Beyond the direct assistance we can provide with searches for employment, housing and other daily needs, The Veteran’s Justice Program is here to help our participants connect with other agencies that can best meet their specific needs and, when necessary, we’ll help our participants navigate through the sometimes confusing and intimidating procedures one may need to go through in order to receive assistance from government programs or other agencies.
Recognizing that it often takes a veteran to understand another vet’s challenges, The Veteran’s Justice Program is here to help veterans with felony records connect with each other through support groups. The Veteran’s Justice Program is also here to build conversations with other veteran-specific programs and organizations so that we can coordinate our work and best serve our very special population.
The program is looking for volunteers who can serve as mentors and friends to veterans looking for a new start, and is particularly interested in volunteers who are veterans themselves. We are looking for speaking engagements where we can spread the word about the needs of veterans who are also ex-offenders, and as with nearly all nonprofit programs, financial assistance to operate our program is always welcomed. Most importantly, if you know of a veteran with a criminal record who may need our support, please refer them to us. We will work with anyone who has served in the military and been incarcerated, regardless of when they served, the type of military unit they were involved in or the circumstances of their discharge.
For more information or to find out how you can get involved, contact us!
Amanda Maassen, Community Development Liaison – 612-877-4276, amanda@amicususa.org
Mark McDuffie, Veteran’s Advocate – 612-877-4277, mark@amicususa.org
Amicus Phone: 612-348-8570 Web: www.amicususa.org
Marla Thao
Editor’s Note: This is part 3 of our series on Marla Thao. In this segment Marla talks about the need to reach out to young people, especially those within the Hmong community, supporting them and helping them avoid the mistakes that sent her to prison for eight years. Thanks to post author Jessica Hunt for her fantastic work and a special thanks goes to Marla for taking time out of a busy schedule to work with us on telling her story.
Post by Jessica Hunt
Marla Thao recognizes the wrong choices she made that led to her to prison. As she struggles to rebuild her life, Marla is making a concerted effort to reach out to others, especially young people who might be vulnerable to the same negative decisions she made herself.
As a teenager, craving acceptance Marla describes her relationship with a meth-using boyfriend who convinced her to turn to prostitution to help fund a place to live.
Then her “boyfriend” began luring more girls into prostitution, using their apartment as the base of operations.
“My relationship with him was more important than (the girls) were … I knew it was illegal, I knew it wasn’t right. But I didn’t want to … I was unhealthy myself.”
Her boyfriend was caught and because of her involvement, Marla was sentenced as a co-conspirator. In 2003, she was sentenced to 11 years for three counts of promotion of prostitution with minors, aiding and abetting.
While at Minnesota Correctional Facility – Shakopee, Marla contributed to the Straight Talk program, where she and others in prison were able to talk with young girls and troubled teens. The girls would come to Shakopee either by court order or taking a field trip with a group home. The Straight Talk group also speaks with college students who are taking classes in criminal justice at Metropolitan State University, Minnesota State University in Mankato and Anoka Technical College.
“It is not easy to share your story with others,” Marla said. “Just knowing that it could help save a life is really rewarding…that’s why I share my story. That’s one of my passions – to help people.”
Marla finds it easy to relate to the girls she has spoken with because she has experienced many of the same issues. She sees in them the need for more involvement from their parents.
“They just want to look cool when they are younger or try to fit in. It’s not just the girls, but the parents too,” she said. “I think it goes both ways…as parents you have to build that relationship with your kids. If you show your kids that as parents you love and care (for them) …they don’t have to look anywhere else to be accepted.”
Marla also continues to grow an understanding of her Hmong culture and its involvement with the American justice system.
She recalls that there were only three Hmong women when she first went into Shakopee. Since she has been there, she has seen the number grow to about 10 women.
Marla has also been working on a long-term study of the cultural challenges faced by young Hmong men. Drinking and drug abuse among Hmong males is a particular concern. Marla believes they turn to drugs because they feel caught in a no-man’s land, accepted by neither Hmong nor American culture. She also notes that men of Hmong descent find it difficult to share their story because they don’t want to appear weak.
Marla ultimately wants to help change this trajectory, using her own story to reach out to the Hmong community and others, hopefully helping a few young men to avoid spending their lives in prison and to ultimately make positive lifelong decisions.
Marla Thao: Rebuilding Family Ties
Editors Note: The following is part 2 of our series on Marla Thao’s reentry into society. When talking about people convicted of crimes, there’s a tendency for society to believe those incarcerated can be effectively isolated from society without impact on others. The truth is, it’s a lot more complex than that and there’s often a huge impact on parents, siblings, sons and daughters. In the following post by Jessica Hunt, Marla talks about the challenges she faces in reconnecting with her family.
Post by Jessica Hunt
Marla Thao
After a felony conviction and prison sentence alienated her from her family and kept her separated from them for much of eight years, a large part of Marla Thao’s efforts to rebuild her life revolves around seeking reconciliation with her family. She is starting to come to terms with her difficult family past while also beginning to overcome barriers in forming a relationship with her own daughter, who is now eight years old.
A child of Hmong immigrants in St. Paul, Marla struggled in her attempts to live in-between the Hmong culture she was born into and the U.S. culture she encountered on the streets daily.
Her family relations were at times, both physically and verbally abusive and her search for acceptance led her into a relationship with a meth-using boyfriend who eventually became abusive and convinced her to turn to prostitution for money.
She became pregnant with her daughter and soon her “boyfriend” began luring more girls into prostitution, using their apartment as the base of operations.
Because she was involved and did nothing to stop the operation, Marla was convicted of three counts of promotion of prostitution with minors, aiding and abetting.
After serving eight years in prison, Marla is transitioning back into the community, but still faces three more years of probation. Living in her family home has given her more stable financial footing, but it still poses a special challenge for her. Marla has not lived at home since she was a teenager and personal interactions with her immediate family had been relatively rare before her release.
Marla says that her parents still find it difficult to understand her need to seek support from outside her family.
“They don’t understand why I have to take groups. I am a socialized person and in our culture being a woman and being socialized, like going out with friends, is not normal and not acceptable. I know they are trying to protect me, but sometimes that drives you away. So it’s a struggle.”
In contrast, Marla found it was easy to relate to others who were incarcerated at MCF-Shakopee because they had experienced similar things. Marla reflects that one particular lesson she learned was how to choose her friends more wisely.
“You can choose to hang around with people who don’t care about anything, or who want to get in trouble all the time and want to be in the drama,” she said. “Or you can choose the people who want to change.”
Finding time for friends is challenging as well because of her busy schedule. In addition to working full-time in a data entry position, Marla currently attends school part-time at Metropolitan State University, where she is majoring in social science.
“I want to change; I want to turn my life around,” she said.
Reconnecting with her daughter has been a significant part of the transition process for Marla. Because the terms of her sentence barred her from living near minors, Marla had to persist in order to obtain visitation rights with her daughter
Marla is now permitted to have supervised visits with her daughter and she continues to attend therapy, but she’s learning that she needs to take things slowly in her reconciliation with her daughter, recognizing that the eight-year-old has built important bonds with others in Marla’s absence.
“(She) also has a mother who has been there for her; that is my sister,” Marla said. “And she has a dad, which is my brother.”
Looking back on her own negative experiences growing up in her family, Marla is determined to form a more positive parental relationship.
“The transition back into her life is going to be hard. But I will do it on her terms and not on my terms,” Marla said. “I want to have my daughter in my life right now and be there for her. But for me…I cannot do that right now… I have to be financially secure, have to reestablish myself out here so I can be there for her and raise her in a healthy way…I love her, I am just trying to get myself healthy and take care of myself first.”
Marla Thao : Building a New Life, Piece by Piece
Marla Thao
Editor’s Note – This is the first in a 3-part series detailing the challenges faced by Marla Thao. The second post will deal with Marla’s efforts to reconnect with her family and the third post will examine the unique cultural challenges and opportunities experienced by Marla.
Post by Jessica Hunt
Marla Thao’s outlook is brighter these days than it has been for a long time and part of that is because she’s found a support network she can count on. But after eight years in prison, the first place Marla needed to reach for support was within herself.
A child of Hmong immigrants in St. Paul, Marla struggled in her attempts to live in-between the Hmong culture she was born into and the American culture she encountered on the streets daily.
“One thing I struggled with growing up was self-esteem,” she said. “Looking back what I had led me to my crime was… I was searching for love in other places, especially in men…So I felt kind of insecure.”
Her family relations were physically and verbally abusive and her search for acceptance led her into a relationship with a meth-using boyfriend who eventually became abusive also. She was living out of her car and he convinced her to turn to prostitution to earn money.
“I guess after the first time I did it, I thought ‘nobody will want me except this guy because I did this for him,” she said.
She became pregnant with her daughter and soon realized that drugs meant more to her boyfriend than she did. Eventually her own prostitution wasn’t enough, and her “boyfriend” began luring more girls into prostitution, using their apartment as the base of operations.
“My relationship with him was more important than (the girls) were..…. I knew it was illegal, I knew it wasn’t right. But…I was unhealthy myself.”
Her boyfriend was caught and because she was involved and did nothing to stop the operation, Marla was sentenced as a coconspirator. In 2003, she was sentenced to 11 years for three counts of promotion of prostitution with minors, aiding and abetting.
Marla made a choice while at Minnesota Correctional Facility Shakopee to take advantage of any opportunity that might help her leave her past behind her.
While serving as an institutional clerk at Shakopee, Marla worked near the transitions center and began learning more about the Amicus services and programs.
She first applied for and was then matched with an Amicus One to One friend, Vanessa Kahn. Vanessa offered her a positive relationship and someone to talk to.
After forming that relationship, Marla got involved in the agency’s Sisters Helping Sisters program and the Amicus Employment Advantage class. Through those classes, she learned skills to help build her confidence and self-esteem.
“It is a safe environment to share stuff you have been struggling with,” she said.
When taking these courses, Marla was contacted by Amicus Reentry Coordinator Jerome Graham to help ease her transition back into the community. Marla states that Jerome has provided solid support for her both in prison and after her release.
“More than just a case worker, you can say a friend. You can talk to him about things you are struggling with, the challenges,” she said. “He has been a great help.”
As part of her reentry efforts Marla also came into Reconnect to use the job search resources. She has encountered many barriers in her searches for stable employment and affordable housing which accepts individuals with a sex offense, but today she is living in an apartment with her mother, working full-time and has recently enrolled at Metropolitan State University, seeking a degree in social science.
Marla has also volunteered with Amicus, sharing her experiences at trainings for One to One volunteers.
“Amicus is, …really welcoming and accepting. I think that’s all people really need to succeed. Someone to believe in them, that they’ll make it,” she said. “People who are in prison have disappointed so many people in their lives and people give up hope in them. They give up hope in themselves. And to have someone to believe in them – that’s worth a lot. Amicus gives many people hope that they will succeed.”
Life Inspired
Editor’s Note: One of the common challenges for those working to re-enter society after a prison sentence is one of perseverance. How do you keep going on your quest for quality employment and housing when so many doors seem closed? We recently asked Terencio Safford, a local writer and editor who also happens to have a criminal record, to give us his thoughts on what keeps him moving toward his dreams.
Guest Post by Terencio Safford
Terencio Safford
Last night I edited my best friend’s mid-term paper for him. My friend, he’s not much of a scholar; he’s a wounded warrior, home from Iraq. I sometimes proofread and edit his school papers to help him out as much as I can. You see, when I was down and needed someone to talk to or just hang out with for a couple of days, Dave was there. When I didn’t have money, Dave paid my way (countless times). When I didn’t have a place to go for refuge, Dave offered his home, his food and even his vehicles to me. That’s Dave. He’s my friend. And in my experience, friendships are what keep me inspired. I care about myself more because I care about what my friends think of me. I woke up this morning and realized how far behind I’d gotten with work. I needed to get caught up, but I didn’t want to start. That’s the hardest part of anything, right? The beginning? I just wanted to continue to lie in my blanket and sleep while waiting for the cows to come home.
ENT! ENT! ENT! ENT! My stupid alarm clock. It was 9:40. I had better get up and start writing. I had been hitting the snooze button since 7:30, the time I normally like to get up and work. It wasn’t easy, getting up. It never is. After a heart-wrenching break-up with my girlfriend during the Christmas holidays, I didn’t think I could recover. But then, I never knew how great my friends were.
Staying the course; not giving up; visualizing your goals. Amicus stands behind all of these ideals through volunteers such as Glenn Olson. To me, Glenn is more than a volunteer. He is the mentor who was assigned to me through Amicus to help me stay focused and positive. We’ll get together for lunch, go biking or just sit down for a bit, with Glenn providing an ear and advice. He’s in his mid-60s and I am in my late-20s. What could we possibly have in common? Nothing! And that’s the beauty of how it all works. Glenn has experienced a higher quality of life than I have. When I need a boost to keep going, I call Glenn. He gives his advice and opinions to me straight. Sometimes it’s not always what I want to hear, but every time it’s what I need to hear. I commend him for his patience and his willingness to help someone who truly needs a good friend. That’s Glenn. He is my friend.
That’s also what Amicus is all about – helping young men and women stay focused and determined. I fell pretty far down and didn’t think I’d ever be able to get back up again but just like this morning, I knew I had to. I fumbled to the kitchen, made some hot tea and booted up my laptop. In the back of my mind I know that failure is not an option for me. My future is important to me and that is what drives me. I am the custodian of my destiny. I hold the reigns to the beast that will carry me to success. I alone, stand before the helm, overlooking the seas, taking in all of the wondrous mystery that she has in store for me. Supported by my good friends and organizations such as Amicus, I have courage.
I am a writer now. From business plans and newsletters to college papers and article summaries, I write. All while finding time to finish my own novel and short stories that reflect both the realities and fantasies of life as I experience it. I operate a real business that I created, nurtured and am now supporting. I am up. I am awake. And there is no way that I could have done it without my friends.
An Ex-Offender’s American Dream
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”-Martin Luther King
Post by Susan Mwarabu
Martin Luther spoke about the American Dream and through much struggle he was able to influence change in our society, broadening the possibilities of the American Dream to include ALL people, regardless of the color of their skin. For incarcerated populations however, the American Dream remains elusive at best and might only be realized after overcoming an array of boggling hindrances.
I have a dream
Symptoms of the poor health of the American Dream for ex-offenders are summarized in the findings of a recent PEW Center on the States study. The study revealed that:
- The United States has the highest incarcerated population in the world.
- Currently 2.3 million Americans are behind bars, which is 1 in every 100 adults.
- Over $50 billion is spent on incarceration costs alone.
- Possible earnings of incarcerated people are reduced by 11% due to employment practices.
- 2.7 million children have a parent behind bars which translates to 1 in every 28 children.
- Unemployment numbers do not include incarcerated populations. This means that labor surveys paint unrealistic portrayals of employment numbers.
The American Dream is ailing for those with criminal records and the only cure is one which can be administered by members of the broader community. With community efforts such as those by Amicus, the health of the American Dream could be restored.
What is the future of the American Dream? Is it possible for all of us to find a way to work together in creating a healthier dream?
A crime begins and ends in the community. It follows then that the solutions are within the very same community. The solution is in helping ex-offenders find employment, housing and reconnect with offenders’ family members who are often the collateral victims of crime incarceration. Finding ways to restore the American Dream could be in the form of supporting organizations like Amicus or one close to you. It could be in the form of teaching ex-offenders critical skills necessary to find gainful employment.
Just like we came together so many years ago to create a reality of the American Dream so then must we again come together to create clear unobstructed paths to reintegration. If all people are created equal, we should work to make sure that ALL have equal opportunity to the American Dream. Together we must keep the American Dream from becoming an American Nightmare.
