Transcriber: Delia Cohen Reviewer: Peter Van de Ven
(Applause)
A little over three years ago, I had a problem.
It wasn’t that I was 22 years into a life sentence at San Quentin
for a murder I committed when I was 15.
My problem was
that I had just been found suitable for parole.
A moment that should have been filled with joy and happiness
was quickly replaced with terror
as I realized I’d soon have to start living life in the streets as an adult
for the first time.
And I’d have to get a job with a criminal record,
and I’d have to start paying taxes like everyone else.
Many already heard
that one in three Americans have a criminal history.
Now those odds coupled with my own lack of work history,
my inexperience living life as an adult,
and the severity of my crime,
you can understand why I was so scared.
Early in my job search, I quickly realized
that many entry-level positions required three years of experience.
How is that even possible,
three years of experience for an entry-level position?
I didn’t have anywhere near three years of experience.
What I did have was 22 years of experience as a student, a supervisor,
an educator and a counselor while incarcerated.
And I was confident that those skills
would translate into the skills that any employer would value.
My problem was that I couldn’t talk about them
unless I talked about my incarceration.
To do otherwise would negate anything I had ever done in my life
up to that point that was positive.
Now, what kind of TED Talk would this be without mentioning Dr. Brené Brown?
This quote captures exactly why we should be transparent.
“Empathy fuels connection.
Sympathy drives disconnection.”
My friend Vincent
calls my strategy of transparency “radical transparency,”
as if it's some sort of guerrilla tactic meant to disarm the interviewer.
And he’s right.
Throughout my incarceration and recovery,
I learned that when at the mercy of ourselves or others,
transparency and vulnerability can build a bridge to empathy.
We're not trying to build sympathy for our past mistakes.
We want to build empathy-- a true human connection.
By being transparent and empathetic,
we show others what we’re capable of and our true selves.
Transparency allows us to take responsibility for our past mistakes
and to pivot to showcase our strengths and talents and skills
through our lived experiences
and build trust and self-confidence.
When do you practice transparency?
There are four main places during the job search where you can do it.
All have their own benefits and disadvantages:
the cover letter, the resume, the interview,
and when getting a conditional offer.
Your cover letter is going to be your first opportunity
to be transparent and showcase your growth.
You run the risk of being screened out at this point,
but many people are screened out at this point anyway,
and they don’t even have a criminal record.
It's also an opportunity to stand out.
This is the actual cover letter I sent out as part of my job search.
I worked on it with several different friends and mentors
until I felt it captured not only who I was,
but what I was capable of.
I kept forgetting that my experiences while incarcerated were still experience.
It’s a matter of framing it
in a way that yourself and the employer can understand.
“I’m excited to be applying
for an entry-level software engineering opportunity with you.
I believe my personality, work ethic,
unique experience and skill set are a perfect fit for the position.
As a child sentenced to adult prison at 15,
I thought my life was over;
instead, it was the start of a liberating journey of empowerment
in which I was chosen valedictorian of my college class,
completion of the highly selective Last Mile coding program,
and successfully entered the web development industry.
My unique and arduous journey of transformation
embedded me with a deep sense of determination, tenacity and fortitude
necessary to overcome any challenges I will face
as I begin this next chapter as a software engineer.
As an alumnus of the Last Mile,
a comprehensive computer science and web development program
training incarcerated people to become web developers,
I quickly learned that learning to code in prison
was severely challenging:
no internet access, limited time on computers--
all within the uncertainty and chaos of prison itself.
However, my environmental restraints forced me to become hyper focused,
flexible and creative at solving problems.
While an employee of The Last Mile, I successfully worked
both as part of a team of designers and engineers,
as well as independently crafting websites
using HTML, CSS, JavaScript, Node, and WordPress.
Although I have the ability to lead when necessary,
I find a supportive work environment with a team-first mentality best suits me
as a person with strong social skills, a positive attitude,
and the ability to think on my feet.
I believe everyone has something to teach someone else,
tech related or otherwise.
And having an opportunity to learn from someone with different experiences
is invaluable.
If I was fortunate enough to be chosen for a position by Checkr,
I would bring the same grit, tenacity,
and unique perspective I developed during my journey
to your team.
I look forward to meeting your amazing team of engineers,
developing cutting-edge world-class technologies,
helping to build a great product that serve so many people.”
Face it,
everyone likes a car accident and to look.
My life up to that point was a 30-car pileup
in a two-lane highway in icy conditions.
And I counted on that to get me in the room.
I wasn’t wrong.
Every employer I submitted that resume to, my cover letter to, gave me a call back.
They all reached out; they were curious and excited to meet me.
Some of them told me at the beginning of the interview
they wouldn’t consider me for a job, because of my record.
But they still wanted to meet me.
Now when it comes to your resume, it may not even be looked at.
Might have years missing, which could hint to a potential employer
about you being in prison.
It’s hard to be transparent and impactful in a resume anyway.
Now what happens when you get your foot in the door?
Do you talk about it in the beginning, the middle, the end of the interview?
Do you wait for an offer even?
Having gone through my parole hearing, the most important interview of my life
less than a year before my job search began,
I realized that the strategies I used to prepare for that hearing
translated well to the job search.
Being up-front from the beginning allowed me to control the dialogue,
take ownership of my past,
and pivot the conversation to my growth and what value I could add to the team.
Waiting until the middle of the interview I felt was risky, can make it awkward,
and with only half an interview left, it would be hard to recover.
Waiting until the end of the interview, I felt was riskiest of all.
It’s like telling your fiancee on your wedding day
about not having children--
only instead it is “Oh wait, I was in prison.”
It allows them to take control of your dialogue in an area
and start to tell the story and fill in the blanks in their mind.
Offer to submit evidence of rehabilitation.
Evidence of rehabilitation is things you did during or after your incarceration
to improve yourself professionally and personally.
I took a three-ring binder of every class I took while incarcerated,
like anger management, substance abuse classes,
letters of support and recommendation.
The same packet I submitted to my parole board
is the same packet I submitted to my employers.
Evidence of rehabilitation provides two things.
One, it’s evidence of what you’ve accomplished.
It could be a “wow” moment to the interviewer.
Two, it’s evidence they can take back to their employer
or to their hiring committee and possibly advocate for you.
Now at the end of the interview,
I hope that you felt like you did yourself justice
and showed the best version of yourself.
And if you didn't, don't worry about it.
Plenty of people go through interviews every day and don't get the job.
Take what you’ve learned from this interview
and hone your narrative.
Do all the normal things: send a follow-up email, a thank you note.
If you haven’t already, send out evidence of rehabilitation.
Now it’s also important to understand what could show on your background check.
Remember, this is the last thing employers see.
And if you haven’t shown them a different version of yourself,
this allows them to start to take control of your narrative again
and fill in the blanks, which could lead to a quick no.
This is how mine showed up.
No context, just a static charge,
a static moment of my life that’ll never change.
Is that really what you want to leave them with?
Now employers, you have responsibilities too.
If one third of people have a criminal history,
that means one third of your potential workforce has a criminal history.
I challenge you to embrace diversity, not just in name, but in practice.
Consider the nature-time-nature test when considering fair chance talent.
Because that’s what we are: we’re talent, just like everyone else.
Consider the nature of the crime,
the time since it happened,
and the nature of the job or the work to be done.
Then ask yourself, “Does it even matter?”
More than likely it doesn’t.
Second, lower the barrier and not the bar.
Consider a person for who they are and what they're capable of,
not necessarily what they've done.
You can look at people with a record as if they’re people changing careers.
They may not have experience in the role, but they do have experience.
They're just trying to lead a new and better life.
Five months after I walked out of San Quentin,
I started my internship at Checkr as a software engineer.
Three years later, I'm still here.
Last year, I celebrated another milestone in my life.
I got my first promotion in my life.
Now none of this would’ve even been possible--
not just if Checkr didn’t give me a chance,
but if the people around me, my co-workers, didn’t believe in me
and give me the chance to work with them.
All I ask is that you give others a chance like they gave me.
Thank you.
(Applause)