Employers across the country consistently express a common concern: they struggle to find enough workers with resilience, commitment, and practical skills for demanding jobs.
At the same time, approximately one in three American adults has a criminal record, and individuals leaving prison are unemployed at about five times the rate of the general population.
These statistics highlight a deeper issue in how we perceive and organize talent.
My belief in second-chance hiring was shaped long before I entered workforce development.
As an intake officer and later General Manager of Juvenile Services for the Kentucky Court of Justice Administrative Office, I worked during the peak of juvenile crime in the 1980s and 1990s. Over that time, I interviewed hundreds of young people entering the justice system and witnessed first-hand how a single poor decision could change the trajectory of their lives.
What struck me most was how many expressed immediate remorse. They were often shocked by the consequences of their actions and struggled to comprehend how one impulsive choice could jeopardize their high school graduation, future employment, and long-term aspirations.
Research has consistently shown that the parts of the brain responsible for judgment, impulse control, and long-term planning continue developing well into a person’s mid-20s. Yet many of the teenagers I met had never fully considered the risks or consequences of their actions until they were sitting across the table from me.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was just supposed to be a prank” was something I heard more than once. Others would ask, “What am I supposed to do now? Isn’t there another option for me? What about my high school graduation?”
For many, involvement with the justice system disrupted education, weakened community connections, and narrowed future career pathways. After release, the challenge often became even greater. A criminal record made it harder to secure employment, access support services, and rebuild stability. Many genuinely wanted a different future but faced barriers that made that future difficult to reach.
Those experiences continue to shape how I think about workforce development today. Too often, we view people with criminal records primarily through the lens of risk, rather than potential.
Second-chance hiring is often framed as an act of compassion or corporate goodwill, but this perspective misses the fundamental value it brings.
The strongest case for second-chance hiring is that it helps employers attract, retain, and develop people who are often underestimated but highly motivated to contribute, grow, and build a better future.
Most organizations claim to be open to non-traditional talent until they encounter a candidate with a conviction, a long employment gap, or a background that falls outside the polished script of the ‘ideal’ applicant.
The result is predictable: people with conviction histories face much higher unemployment because screening tools and employer biases push them out before anyone assesses their actual skills. Employers still need judgment, but it’s about managing risk differently.
Recent data show that 28 percent of people released from prison are sent back within three years, down from 35% a decade ago. The biggest drops are occurring in places where people gain access to decent jobs with support soon after release.
In practice, people with records are most likely to be hired into a handful of sectors—waste and maintenance services, accommodation and food, construction, manufacturing, and retail—the very industries now struggling most with unfilled roles.
Whatever the sector, when employers close the door on candidates with records, they reduce their own talent pool.
That is why the funnel needs to widen: employers must keep standards high and give people with records real work and clear expectations.
One way employers can do this is by partnering with specialized re-entry organizations. In Santa Ana, California, for example, Project Kinship works with people on probation or parole, or recently released from custody, through its Verdugo Re-Entry Center. The center offers therapy, emotional support, and practical services—from food and clothing vouchers to help with housing, benefits, and legal issues. It’s deliberately designed as “a safe, healing place for them to stay” during the day, says program manager Joseph Guzman.
He emphasizes the starting point is dignity, not judgment. “We believe in second chances, sometimes third, fourth, fifth, whatever it may be. Our doors are always open to them, and it’s all about seeing the person for who they are, rather than what they did.”
Alongside on-site public defenders who can help resolve outstanding cases so people can secure work and housing, the center connects participants with social services and workforce programs that offer resumes, job leads, and interview coaching.
Within Project Kinship itself, staff with lived experience are key to that support. Guzman says formerly incarcerated staff are the organization’s “secret sauce”: people who have “made the decision to change for the better” and now lead alcohol, narcotics, and recovery workshops for others coming home. That shared experience, he suggests, “also creates healing within the community,” because participants see role models who have walked the same path.
Guzman notes that the core qualities for this work are soft skills, such as “compassion, patience, and being trauma-informed.”
One story, in particular, can help reset employers’ assumptions. Chaplain Heather Riley, MA, Executive Director of SoulRapha and Regional Director of Spiritual Care, Volunteer Services, and Bereavement at Acacia Health, both based in California, served time on a drug conviction in her 20s. As an additional disclosure, Acacia Health may hire clients from IWSI’s Ready, Willing and ABLE program at its health facilities.
Riley later rebuilt her life across healthcare, chaplaincy, and nonprofit leadership. When she talks about formerly incarcerated workers, she sums up the core problem this way: “There’s this misconception that you have to keep walls up to survive. But walls don’t protect people. They create isolation.”
That experience now shapes the way she works with people carrying shame, fear, and uncertainty into professional settings. In her work, Riley recognized signs of addiction in a nurse who had told no one. She shared her own conviction history, and the nurse opened up, entered an accountability process, and stayed in the profession.
Riley’s experience invites employers to ask whether their organizational cultures are deflecting current and prospective employees who do not feel safe being honest.
Too many employers still view a criminal record only as a warning sign. That misses part of the picture.
Many second-chance hires have already built the qualities employers say they want: a strong work ethic, reliability, and a demonstrated ability to stick with tough jobs and bounce back from setbacks.
Good second-chance hiring does not stop at placement. It builds pathways. Entry-level roles can flourish when linked to mentoring, skill development, and progression, allowing people to grow into trusted contributors over time.
The benefits of second-chance hiring also extend beyond the individual hire. It strengthens families, broadens local labor pools, and builds trust between employers and communities that often feel marginalized by the labor market.
Employers might consider these starting points:
Second-chance hiring calls for judgment, structure, and patience. It also asks employers to broaden their understanding of talent and potential. The strongest workforces in the next decade will be built by organizations that recognize capability, commitment, and growth in places others may have overlooked.
