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Tight job market makes finding work even tougher for ex-convicts

By Patrick McGee
Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Out of jail, but no one’s hiring...

FORT WORTH, Texas — The recession is hacking away at Catherine’s work hours, and she’s terrified that they will be reduced to zero.

The 47-year-old Fort Worth woman isn’t just struggling to make ends meet; she is worried that losing her job could put her in violation of her parole -- which could get her sent back to federal prison.

“I’m desperately trying to stay out,” said Catherine, who asked that her last name not be used. “I don’t sleep at night because I’m up worrying a lot.”

Catherine’s anxiety reflects the struggles many ex-convicts are facing as the unemployment rate increases in a deepening recession. Already personae non gratae in a pool of other applicants, they now face stiffer competition for fewer jobs.

Some must be employed to meet the terms of their parole.

More than a half-million Americans lost their jobs in December, pushing the unemployment rate to 7.2 percent, according to U.S. Labor Department figures released Friday. It’s the highest unemployment rate in 16 years.

About 6,000 former inmates return to Tarrant County every year.

Barbara Tennyson, an employment specialist at Texas ReEntry Services, said her Fort Worth-based nonprofit organization placed about 25 former inmates each month. Then it dropped to seven.

“Last month we only had three jobs,” she said.

The felony question

Ex-cons say they’re nervous and are getting the cold shoulder from prospective employers.

“As soon as you answer about the felony question, you don’t even get called back,” said Wanda Olvera, 40, of Fort Worth, who served 18 months in state jail for possession of cocaine with intent to deliver.

She said her conviction led to revocation of her nurse’s aid certification, so that line of work was cut off. When she was released, her parole officer told her that she had to find a job by a certain date or be sent to another detention facility.

“That scared the daylights out of me. I was going nuts; I didn’t want to go back,” she said. “As soon as I heard I would be going back, my focus was like, ‘OK, I’ve got to find a job.’”

Olvera went through several jobs and is now looking for a new job. She’s off parole but will always be haunted and shamed by her felony conviction.

Other felons said they’ve had to come up with techniques to deal with the issue.

Eloy Salinas, 28, of Fort Worth, whose third drunken-driving offense was a felony, said he tries to win over prospective employers with his personality before bringing up his criminal record.

Steven Smith, a bank robber turned apprentice electrician, said he would leave blank or write “will explain” on the section of the job application that asks about felony convictions.

Finding work

Brandye Casler, a senior federal probation officer based in Arlington, said former inmates can find employment if they take advantage of job-training programs while they are incarcerated. She said they also need to get their birth certificates and other documents quickly so they can get an ID card and have something to show to employers besides a prison ID.

Industrial and warehouse work is open to convicts, restaurant work is lukewarm and the medical field is off-limits, former inmates and their advocates say.

Angel Ilarraza, program coordinator for the Tarrant County Reentry Initiative, said he held a job fair for ex-cons and employers in August and wants to have another this year.

However frustrated the public might feel about former inmates getting jobs, it’s necessary for society that they be employed, he said.

“We would benefit if we have productive citizens getting back to work, paying taxes, getting a job and being crime-free,” he said.

In interviews, some felons shifted from speaking positively about wanting to work to expressing frustration and considering a return to their criminal lifestyle.

Mark, 46, who admitted that he stole to support his drug habit, talked of making a go of it as a welder -- and also talked of giving up on reporting to his parole officer and stopping payment on his $18-a-month parole fee. Mark didn’t want to give his last name.

“I’m just going to quit reporting, quit paying,” he said. “I’m just going to go do my thing.”

Copyright 2009 Fort Worth Star-Telegram