The Sweet Treat of a Second Chance

 

Jaclyn Gillispie and Amy Davis, both 43, share a lot of similarities. They both hold quality assurance positions at Ziegenfelder, a frozen treats factory in East Wheeling. They both drive Honda Civics. They both have three brothers. And, they both landed prison sentences after falling victim to addiction in the epicenter of the ongoing opioid epidemic. After their once successful professional lives dissolved, they crossed paths in Southwestern Regional Jail and Correctional Facility, which is about 70 miles south of Huntington. Together, they realized their potential and began climbing up from the darkest points of their lives hand in hand. Their shared story illustrates the power of a second chance, and the need for solidarity in crisis.

After earning a master’s degree at West Virginia University, Jaclyn became a school teacher and worked in Brooke and Hancock counties. She taught math and special education. On the outside, her life seemed very normal. But what you couldn’t see was a disorder that would completely dismantle her life. Her substance use began recreationally and quickly turned into a dependency as she self-medicated for symptoms of depression. Then, after a car accident, she gained access to her drug of choice through a doctor which she said she “took full advantage of.” Her professional life made it easy to sustain, but only for a while. Eventually she reached an uncontrollable level of usage and her tipping point edged closer and closer. She landed a two and a half year prison sentence for drug-related crimes.

Amy’s story is similar, her substance use also beginning in her 20s. She held a job at BB&T Banking in Bluefield, W.Va., for ten years, four of which were in a managerial position. “I had several hard life circumstances happen all at once, and it was offered to me.” Some acquaintances told her that she could use for a few days to take her mind off of her problems. “But there is really no taking it for a few days,” she said.

Almost instantly, she became a “functioning addict,” as did Jaclyn. Both were able to keep their use mostly under wraps, exceptional in their skill of hiding a serious problem. “You don't just pick up on ‘oh, my bank teller is on Xanax and Percocet,’” Jaclyn said. ”But you might see she's not in as good of a mood as she was yesterday, or she seemed really down today.”

Of course, this lifestyle is not something one can normally maintain. “You eventually hit that point where you just can't get enough, and you need more and more money. You don't have money to pay for your bills, because if you don't take the drugs, then you're sick, which means you can't work. And no one can keep that up for very long. So you know, eventually, I got in trouble with the law and went to prison,” Amy said.

In 2009, Amy started a 10 year sentence. After serving five years, she got out on parole, but relapsed and found herself back behind bars. This time, she was placed in a long-term Residential Substance Abuse Treatment (RSAT) program. These programs are generally for those with drug-related crimes, not allowing in prisoners with extensive patterns of criminal behavior and/or life sentences. The RSAT population is kept isolated from the general population. They are given access to groups like Narcotics Anonymous (NA), taught coping skills, and learn how to confront their problems. Not only would she finally receive the rehabilitative services she desperately needed, but she would also gain a life-long friend: Amy and Jaclyn shared the same cell. There, they formed what would become a loving friendship, which gave way to an alliance in the face of the massive obstacles ahead.

At first, Jaclyn wasn’t interested in joining the other women in the program, thinking she would stay quiet and not participate. But soon enough, her heart gave way to healing. She was captured by the space of vulnerability for prisoners who themselves suffered from mental health disorders, domestic violence, sexual assault, or a combination of all three. “You’re around these women and you hear them talk, pouring their hearts out, telling their stories, and you're like, ‘I can absolutely relate to that.’ And that was the first time in my life that I got to realize that there are other women who are going through and feeling the same things that I am,” Jaclyn said, and Amy agreed.

In RSAT, Jaclyn also received proper medication for her undiagnosed mental health disorder. “The substances I took gave me a sort of reprieve from the mental issues that I was having. And then while I was in RSAT, I got diagnosed as being bipolar. I have not used since I got put on my medication that I’m on now,” she said. Jaclyn is now four years clean; Amy has two under her belt.

When Jaclyn finished her two and a half year sentence, she moved in with her mother in Wheeling. She served her time, transformed herself for the better, and found recovery. But then a new challenge presented itself: recreating her life. After years of incarceration, one steps outside into freedom, expecting all the work that was put into personal growth to manifest into a new life, but instead is met with seemingly impassable walls. One of these is the quest to reobtain important personal documents.

“Without documentation, you can't get paperwork. Without the paperwork. You can't get the documentation. You know what I mean?” Amy said. “Without all these proofs of everything, you can't get a license. Without the license, you can't get all these proofs of everything.”

The questions continue. If you get a job, how will you get there without a vehicle? Without an income or access to social services, how will you get food or housing? Where will you live if affordable housing takes six months or more to find, because waiting lists are so long? How will you sustain a sober life if you don’t have a solid support system of recovery groups and counseling?

Thankfully for Jaclyn, her mother provided the support and love she needed to answer some of these questions. She had a safe and stable place to land upon reentry. It was a bit easier for her to obtain personal documents because she grew up in the area.

Two and a half years later, upon Amy’s reentry, she had the link needed on the outside for a successful reentry. Before Amy was released, Jaclyn researched places for her to live in Wheeling that would offer proper services and support to ease Amy’s transition. Jaclyn found the Mary and Martha House, a halfway home for women in recovery, and Amy got a bed there. Amy needed to get a divorce certificate from 20 years ago, which was much harder to receive due to her divorce being in Mercer County, but she eventually obtained it. Jaclyn had already landed a job at Ziegenfelder and advocated for Amy when she applied to the factory. Although vastly different from the work they did prior, they transitioned into their new professional life together, second chance employment providing another stepping stone.

Second chance employment is exactly as it sounds: it offers a hand up to those with a criminal background. There are several businesses in Wheeling that offer a second chance. IC Staffing, Wheeling Park Commission, Patsy’s Pizza, TJ’s Bar & Grill, Later Gator, Inside Out ServiceMart, to name some. Different businesses accept different levels of criminal backgrounds.

Ziegenfelder, a company founded in 1861 that operates a frozen treats factory in East Wheeling, uses an ad hoc team from different departments to discuss applicants and consult with parole officers to decide if someone will be a good fit for the factory. Lisa Allen, former CEO of Ziegenfelder, who began her work with the company in 1999, explained that a second chance begins with compassion. “It's all about believing in the human potential. It's all about learning how to be self aware, be confident, and build resiliency in yourself. It's not a place to hide, it's not a place to continue your addiction or your [bad] social behavior. We wanted our place to be someplace where you can grow, learn, thrive, feel safe, and feel part of something bigger than yourself,” she said. Ziegenfelder also has counselors who come into the factory two days a week to provide guidance for employees, and has people in managerial positions that can provide addiction counseling.

At some point or another, we’ve all been given a second chance. Mistakes are inherent to human nature, our imperfections a defining factor of the way the world operates. In the same light, though, our ability to offer genuine apologies and grow is how we move forward as a collective to a better future. But what if you make a serious mistake, one that requires a path to justice for all parties involved? Will you be given a second chance after punishment?

In our current punitive justice system, society expects a person convicted of a crime to come out the other side of their prison sentence having come to terms with the harm caused by their actions, ready to contribute to society in a manner that is deemed civil. Additionally, they should be fearful of committing crime again after losing a period of their life. But, in the United States, this profound transformation of self rarely happens: three out of four prisoners are rearrested within five years of their release.

One of the reasons for this is the high number of prisoners facing undiagnosed and untreated substance use disorders. The National Institute on Drug Abuse found that “85% of the prison population has an active substance use disorder or were incarcerated for a crime involving drugs or drug use.” But, a 2017 study by the U.S. Department of Justice revealed that “only 28% of people in prison and 22% of people in jail with drug use disorders participated in any drug treatment while incarcerated.” In West Virginia, a research brief from the state’s Division of Justice and Community Services relayed that, since 2000, “the number of drug offenders admitted each year into West Virginia state prisons has increased by more than 300%.”

Until 2017, West Virginians with non-violent felonies had no pathway under state law to reduce drug-related crimes on their record. This changed when the Second Chance for Employment Act was passed in 2017, allowing the reduction of certain non-violent felonies to misdemeanors. In 2019, another act gave the possibility of expungement for non-violent offenders and reduced (parole time). Initiatives like Jobs & Hope WV, a program that helps guide those experiencing a substance use disorder back into the workforce, is a start. But we are still at the beginning of a long process towards healing.

Rarely are paths forward perfectly linear – with every success there are multiple failures. Jaclyn’s and Amy’s stories illustrate the profound transformation that can happen when proper services are provided to rehabilitate. Amy is proud of the steps she’s taken to reclaim her life. She got her license, bought a brand new car, and continues to sustain recovery. Jaclyn was recently reunited with her daughter which has been years in the making.

We need more structured avenues to treatment, rehabilitation, and community for our citizens suffering from the opioid epidemic rather than a system of walls and isolation. Punishment for drug-related crimes has proven itself as a failing system, especially when considering that the opioid epidemic was not created by the citizens trapped within it. In a state ridden with severe social and economic hardships, one might ask if some were ever given a chance in the first place.

 
 
Ella Jennings

Editor, Mustard Seed Mountain Street Paper

Previous
Previous

Director’s Desk: Issue Three

Next
Next

Artwork: Survivor