Juan H.
Love and pride are evident in Juan’s voice when he speaks of his 18-year-old daughter, who works and attends college part time. She was still a baby when he was convicted of first-degree armed robbery and sentenced to 16 years. She visited him throughout his time in prison, and it was not always easy, he says, but “We have a lovely relationship now.”
Back in 2003, Juan, now 46, had a good job working for a moving company. He put in long hours, often seven days a week, and had plans to start his own moving company. But he was also “young and rowdy and into drugs” and says he hung around with “the wrong people,” including some who committed burglaries and robberies.
Those were mistakes that cost him dearly, he says. In prison, he says, he came to realize how drugs influence people. “You make poor decisions,” he says. “You also have to watch where you hang around.” He says the prosecution wanted him to name names, but back then he believed you didn’t give up your friends. “If I knew then what I know now,” he says with a rueful laugh. Juan has always maintained his innocence, but knew nothing about the court system. His own naïveté played a role in his conviction and sentencing, he believes. He didn’t realize, for example, that his public defender had far more experience with traffic law than with criminal cases. In the line-up, “No one else looked like me. And at trial, it all comes down to who the jurors believe.”
Practicing his Jewish faith helped Juan deal with life behind bars and continues to give him a sense of connection today. At one of the four facilities where he did time, the rabbi used to come see him and Juan was able to celebrate Passover. He began teaching Hebrew to other prisoners, and was later featured in a story in the newspaper The Jewish Light. While in prison he also got off drugs, but the treatment programs did not help much. “I was forced to rehabilitate myself,” Juan says. Although he describes some of the facilities as calm, orderly, and even peaceful, he says he still has PTSD from things he experienced.
Life behind bars made him a firsthand witness to who gets locked up and why. “Our tax dollars are being spent to incarcerate people with mental health issues,” he says firmly. “Prisons are needed, but most people who are in there shouldn’t be.” His experience has led him to become a strong supporter of preventive measures. “Let’s use that money to educate young people, not send them away to prison, and for drug treatment.” An underlying problem, he came to realize, is that prisons are a money-making enterprise in the U.S. There’s an incentive to lock up people rather than focus on intervention, treatment, and rehabilitation.
Upon his release, he was immensely grateful for the support of Criminal Justice Ministries (CJM). “They help you get an ID, transportation fare, an apartment, groceries, and counseling,” he said. “They have a good support system and they’ll help you with a percentage of rent and utilities until you can take over everything.” The outside world was a shock. “When I first got out, I went to Walmart,” Juan says. He found it so overwhelming, he had to leave. He had to learn how smartphones work, how to use Google Maps to get around, and how to submit job applications online.
Juan quickly found a good job, and today he is a Senior Quality Assurance hydraulic hose inspector. He saved enough to help his daughter some and to buy a 1998 Mercedes and restore it to impeccable condition. “When you’re in prison, you learn how to do with very little and to budget and save,” he notes. Juan now mentors other people who have been to prison. “Because we are the experts,” he says simply. “It’s my duty to give back.”
