Last year, Arizona joined a national program aimed at reducing recidivism rates by 30% by 2030 through job training, education and other support. Still, the barriers for formerly incarcerated people are steep — from finding housing and work to staying sober and rebuilding relationships.
KJZZ’s “Beyond the Gates” is an occasional series that explores the barriers and risks women face as they prepare to leave incarceration. The first installment focuses on a Phoenix college class that shows how hard getting out of prison can be.
It’s a Wednesday evening at Grand Canyon University in Phoenix.
Inside a large room, more than two dozen tables are arranged in a U-shape. Staff from New Freedom are seated at each station as students file in.
“Well, this row is going to be very busy,” explains Katherine Nisbet, New Freedom’s chief clinical officer.
“We've got four different booths, we have social services, we have our employer, we have the church — the ID station, which will be hopping the first two weeks.”
Nisbet’s group operates a re-entry program for current and formerly incarcerated women and men. It’s an intensive, 90-day approach that offers mentorship, job training and trauma support.
For the next two hours, students from GCU — many studying criminal justice — will try to navigate life after prison. It’s a simulation, but it doesn’t take long to feel real.
Each student gets what’s called a “life packet” — detailing the fictional story of a formerly incarcerated person, along with pretend money and bus passes to get around.
“So we have Mina, she's 27,” says Nisbet, picking up the clear folder containing her backstory. “She served three years for aggravated identity theft after participating in an online scam during a period of homelessness and untreated complex PTSD.”
Mina has to find food, get a job, take a drug test and check in with a probation officer. The student who gets to play Mina will have four 10-minute intervals to complete these tasks.
“It is meant to be stressful in different ways to really get a feeling for this is how individuals have to navigate it," Nisbet says.
Like a twisted game of Monopoly
In some ways, this simulation is a game. And failing to complete the assigned tasks in time could mean a trip to jail — which sits empty in the corner of the room — for now.
“You hear it all the time, get out and get a job. Well, there's a lot of things that go into that," explains George Nolan, New Freedom’s director of marketing.
Nolan spent a total of 17 years in prison, so he understands the steep barriers to re-entry. These days, helps facilitate these simulations for students like the ones here today, as well as professionals who work in the criminal justice space.
“We've done this quite a bit. I've literally seen a judge who stole money from a table to be able to get somewhere else, and he got caught and went to our re-entry jail," Nolan says.
Experiences like that can shift a person’s perspective and maybe soften old assumptions.
“We also want to take away the belief that getting out of prison and getting a job is super easy,” while hopefully building empathy along the way, Nolan says.
“To be constantly judged by your worst moment for the rest of your life is a pretty, pretty tough thing to go through,” he says. “Even myself, I'm formerly incarcerated. Every time I go to a new job, I have to tell a complete stranger about the worst moments of my life, forever.”
For incarcerated women, that shame can feel like the weight of the world because their children are involved. Magen Turnbo knows all too well what that’s like — she lived it.
“Our house got raided, our kids got taken — three boys got taken by DCS — and after that, you feel like, ‘well, what's the point of continuing?’"
Today, Turnbo is seven years sober. She works at New Freedom, along with one of her adult children — but in many ways, she’s still making her amends.
“Trying to say, hey, you know, I'm not that person anymore, and trying to make up for the lost time," Turnbo says.
“To be constantly judged by your worst moment for the rest of your life is a pretty, pretty tough thing to go through.”George Nolan, New Freedom’s director of marketing.
Ready, set, go!
Back at the simulation, Nisbet lays out the rules: no swapping life cards, no lingering with other students — or rather, parolees in this case.
“Your week starts now, 10 minutes per week on the clock,” shouts Nisbet.
A surge of students rush towards the tables. Ebony Jefferson is one of them.
“I need an ID, birth certificate, Social Security. I didn't know you had to get all those again," Jefferson says.
Jefferson is studying psychology, focusing on forensics. Here, she’s unsure where to start — going table to table, getting frustrated and getting nowhere.
Then, Nisbet calls time. The students take their seats in the center of the room.
“How did the first week go?” Nisbet asks.
“Terrible, horrible!” shout a few.
“Terrible, horrible? We have a couple individuals in jail. Did you guys know that within the first 90 days, and actually the highest risk for individuals returning incarceration? Well, you do now," Nisbet says.
As the simulation moves on, the jail gets crowded. Eventually, Jefferson herself has to face the music.
“You are non-compliant with the terms of your release,” explains a stern-faced New Freedom employee.
“What? No! I've been trying for weeks to get my ID to do this stuff,” Jefferson pleads.
For Jefferson this exercise was eye-opening — and exhausting.
“It changes my perspective a lot, that they go through a lot — and they're judged a lot — any little incident, they're back in jail," Jefferson says.
Nisbet says for some, the obstacles pile up so quickly, they start to drown and going back to prison feels like the safest option.
And for women, the stakes can be even higher — children growing up without their mothers and at greater risk of repeating that same cycle.
