Have you ever thought about a prison inmate—ever really taken a moment to think about him? Not about the prison system, or criminals in general, but just one inmate?
Does he have a face, a name, a story? Is he a monster or a human being? Can you empathize with him? Could you love him? Do you think God loves him? Do you think grace would be big enough for an inmate?
In our safe, comfortable lives these questions are probably somewhat foreign. Before a few years ago, I had never once thought about an inmate in all my years on earth. The little I did know was from TV. An inmate to me was a nameless, faceless person in an orange jump suit. He was someone I didn't know or understand. If you put me in a room with him, I’m sure I would have been nervous—even afraid.
I was in graduate school when I received an interesting email with the headlines "Prison Entrepreneurship Program" and "free pizza." It doesn't really matter which influenced me more, the bottom line is that I went to the meeting.
It was there that I had my first lesson about who an inmate was and who he could be. My eyes were opened to this new world when I heard the story of Catherine Rohr. It went something like this:
With no prior experience related to prison, 26-year-old venture capitalist Catherine Rohr, held some pretty harsh views of inmates. "I didn't even consider them human," said Catherine. A friend's compassion for prison ministry intrigued Catherine, and she accepted an invitation to attend a prison tour in Texas. "I thought I was going on a zoo tour. I expected to see a bunch of crazy, caged-up animals."
What she ended up seeing were human beings, and Catherine was immediately ashamed of her hardened heart. As a professing Christian, she had written off this population as being in the "bad pile," beyond the reaches of grace. The experience was humbling, and it touched her to the core.
Wearing her venture capital hat, she quickly recognized that behind prison walls lies America's most overlooked talent pool. She identified not only their entrepreneurial ability but also their proven entrepreneurial skills as former drug dealers and gang leaders. She wondered what would happen if these men were actually equipped with real, legitimate business tools.
That one thought changed her life and the Prison Entrepreneurship Program (PEP) was born. Today, PEP is a pioneering non-profit organization, uniting executives and inmates through entrepreneurial passion, education and mentoring. The program engages the nation's top business and academic talent to constructively redirect inmates' ambitions by equipping them with values-based entrepreneurial training—enabling them to productively re-enter society.
Since inception, PEP has graduated 440 men and has achieved a 90+% employment rate within the first 30 days of release. Fifty-five graduates have started their own companies, and less than 10% have gone back to prison which is great considering the national average is around 50% or more. PEP volunteers, mostly business executives and MBA’s, logged 7,800+ volunteer hours behind prison walls in 2008.
Today I think a lot about inmates. But now they are individuals with faces, names and stories. I’m grateful to have been born in a place where the path to prison was a foreign concept, but I feel even more grateful to have the opportunity to witness the transformation that is possible in the hearts of these men and to share the potential that lies within that world with others.
This is a very interesting article in light of the fact that I have a close friend in a women’s prison and one of our newest and most excited christians in our church has only been out of prison for six months. No, I have not thought too much about just ONE INMATE and what thier thoughts and needs are. I can tell you this, that I will from this moment on.
Thanks for a THOUGHT PROVOKER!! Ed
Comment by Ed - Jun 18, 2009 @ 10:51 AM