Arizona has one of the highest incarceration rates in the country. And according to advocates, roughly 70% of the state’s eligible workforce faces barriers to employment because of a criminal record.
To help close that gap, an Arizona nonprofit and a trade school have teamed to launch a welding program for women recently released from Perryville prison.
Since her release, LeeAnn Carney has used services from Arouet, a small Phoenix nonprofit that focuses on women, to help get back on her feet.
“I now work in the behavioral health field myself,” said Carney, “just kind of utilizing my lived experiences to help and benefit others.”
When she heard about the eight-week program they launched with the Refrigeration School and StrataTech, she said it was a no-brainer.
“I grew up in a garage on the racetrack, wrenching, so I’ve kind of always had a passion for this type of hands-on work and a lot of the skilled kind of trades,” Carney said, adding that she looks forward to using this one to support herself and her partner.
For other participants like Michelle McDonald, learning to weld has been an unexpected turn in their career path.
“It was good to be able to have this experience,” said McDonald, “because before, I probably wouldn't have tried anything. Like now I’m just taking chances and not being fearful, and being open to learning new things. And then this is a trade you can take wherever you go.”
McDonald, who describes herself as a perfectionist, said she plans to fine-tune her skills further past graduation this month.
But in the long term, she said, “I like to make people feel good about themselves, so my goal is to save money so I can open up a clothing boutique.”
She wants to be in a position, she explained, where she can uplift other women and mentor young people, specifically.
“Just tell them like, you know, society and life and just people put you in a box,” McDonald said. “I’ve learned not to let anything or anyone box you in. Be what you want to be in life. And it’s OK to make mistakes. Learn from them and then, you know, move forward. Don’t stay stagnant.”
A sales rep by day, Carmen Nuñez said she had a gut feeling about giving the program a try.
“I’ve always been an active person. I’ve always been a ‘get in, in the grunt and get dirty’ – I’m not afraid to do that kind of work,” Nuñez said. “So I said this could be good. And I know that it can get me financially set where I want to be. I know it can mean freedom for me.”
Growing up, Nuñez said she wanted to be a police officer.
“Then, you know, adulthood comes and I'm steering far away from the law,” Nuñez said. “But to be honest with you, that's one of the things I feel like I have that again. That innocent feeling where you can be anything you want to be and my mom is proud of me again. She brags about me again.”
‘Who we are, what we deserve, and how much we will give’
Her time behind bars, Nuñez says, made reentering the workforce a challenge. But with programs like this one, she says, “We're just bringing awareness to what we are, who we are, what we deserve and how much we will give you, because we have a lot of things to prove.”
“I’m already a certified [transcranial magnetic stimulation] technician,” said participant Leslie Canton, who has also faced that barrier. “But because of my background, it’s a little bit hard to find someone willing to hire someone that’s overqualified, that has a background.”
Based on her resume and a phone interview, she landed an office job.
“Whoever was the owner seen [sic] my tattoos, that they did not see before, and thought that it would be fun to just Google my name,” said Canton. “Within 10 minutes of me being there, I was being walked out.”
Canton remembers the two-hour wait for her ride.
“My husband was working, and so he dropped me off on one of his work routes,” she recalled. “And so I had to go walk across the street at this, like, deserted building, sit there at the bus stop and bawl my little eyes out.”
But Canton said learning to weld has changed a lot for her, including helping her move on from her past.
“You either let it define you or you just let it make you better and you move on from there,” said Canton. “That’s what I did. And this — this is amazing, because it also takes you away from your life and gets you kind of centered and structured in a way.”
She said being surrounded by people who understand what she’s been through makes a difference, too.
“We’re united,” Canton said. “They feel comfortable. We feel secure. We feel not —not judged.”
"We’re united. They feel comfortable. We feel secure. We feel not — not judged."Leslie Canton, program participant
Making reentry smoother reduces recidivism
Removing judgement from the reentry process is at the program’s core, according to Arouet Business Partnerships Manager Jessica Bruner.
“What that means for us is in this community is almost invaluable in the sense that a school like RSI that has the reputation that they do in this community, [and is] stating, ‘We don't care what's behind them, what we want to do is build out what's in front of them,’” Bruner said.
Carney said when you have a record, job hunting can be “going from place to place, to place, to place, to finally find a yes, just because of, possibly, our past. It’s time-consuming if you don’t have the resources to do it. Sometimes it’s very difficult. And also, it can kill your inspiration and your hope.”
But Bruner said that’s where a program like this comes in.
“It is about these women,” she said, “and making sure everything that they need before them so that their next decision isn't a desperate one.”
Bruner said that it can feel like wearing a scarlet letter that employers won’t look past.
“We get out and we have to still wear that,” Bruner said. “And it’s a life sentence. And so, that’s the challenge, is getting people to stop giving us a life sentence.”
Riding the wave: Women in skilled trades
Which is why Bruner said the nonprofit’s goal is to use trades like welding as a way in.
“People can only get knocked down so many times,” said Bruner, “before they decide that there's no hope on this side of the fence for me, so I'm going to get away with this for as long as I can, and then I'm going to go back. ‘I’m gonna be what you tell me that I have to be.’”
The numbers, she added, are on their side: “Arizona's recidivism rate is like 37.6% or something in that range. Arouet just did their three-year study. Arouet’s recidivism rate is 1.3%.”
Plus the demand from employers, Bruner said, is there.
“Women in trades is this huge hot topic,” she said. “Companies want more women in their environments doing the work, because they know that the interest in trades, in construction, is dwindling. And the people that they have right now are retiring.”
Bruner said most employers don’t need an official green light to practice open-minded hiring.
“These women,” said Bruner, “they work full-time jobs. Some of them go to school full time. They've got kiddos at home that are little people. Like, they have lives that are completely and totally jam-packed. And yet they are here, showing up three days a week in that schedule, dedicated to learning this skill.”
Nuñez, who’s working on an online communications degree, echoed that.
“It’s never too late to rewrite your story,” she said, “and something like this can give you a really good, really good start at life.”
Canton said she looks forward to the opportunities that skill will open up for her. Eventually, she wants to become a psychiatrist.
“If someone gets this message and they’re out there in the streets, and they feel like there is no help, like you’re just stuck – you have not hit rock bottom,” Canton said. “Rock bottom is six feet under. There is still hope for you.”
Nuñez added that eyes are opening to the value of hiring people like her.
“We’re getting skills, we’re getting trained,” Nuñez said. “Now we’re just waiting for businesses to give us that chance.”
And for this first class of 10 women, becoming a welding technician is another step closer to standing on their own after incarceration.
