Latest news with #SecondChancePellGrant
The Hill
6 days ago
- The Hill
College behind bars: A Southern strategy that's working
I never imagined that some of my most meaningful work would take place inside prison walls — not as someone serving time, but as an educator working with the Virginia Department of Corrections to expand access to college for incarcerated students. And I can say with confidence: Virginia is getting this right. Across the South, and especially here in the Commonwealth, we are seeing a shift in how education is viewed behind bars. Virginia has become a leader in building real academic opportunities for incarcerated individuals. Through strong coordination, strategic partnerships, and a clear commitment to rehabilitation, the department has helped create college classrooms in spaces where many never thought they would exist. All students enrolled in our programs have already earned their GEDs. From there, students take on rigorous college-level coursework in fields ranging from business and the humanities to technical trades. Many are the first in their families to pursue higher education. Some have struggled in school their entire lives, yet now they are writing essays, completing assignments, and giving final presentations in environments that rely entirely on paper-based materials and in-person teaching, because most facilities do not permit technology. But what they lack in digital tools, these students make up for in determination and discipline. These programs work because they are built on structure, standards, and belief in the potential of people. Students aren't just attending class to pass time. They are earning associate degrees and nationally recognized career and technical education certificates. They are building new skill sets and rediscovering their self-worth in the process. The numbers speak volumes. National research shows that incarcerated individuals who participate in postsecondary education are significantly less likely to return to prison. Virginia's efforts reflect this. Our approach is not soft on accountability, but it's smart on outcomes. We are creating a clearer path from incarceration to contributing meaningfully to society. Much of this is made possible by the Second Chance Pell Grant program, which allows eligible students to attend college without bearing the financial burden. Through the Department of Corrections' support and coordination with institutions like Piedmont Virginia Community College, Southside Virginia Community College, and the University of Virginia, we have built a model that is both practical and effective. And we are still growing. My personal goal is to bring even more colleges into this work and deepen our impact statewide. I have had the honor of sitting in graduation ceremonies inside our correctional centers. I have seen men and women walk across the stage with pride while their families cheer them on. I have watched students train for fields such as HVAC and welding, earning credentials that have led to employment after release. These moments don't just represent academic achievement — they represent transformation, for the individual and for the community waiting for them outside. The Virginia Department of Corrections has created the foundation for this progress by fostering a culture that sees education as a part of reentry, not separate from it. By working across departments, supporting faculty, and removing unnecessary barriers, Virginia is modeling what successful prison education looks like. Still, we need to shift public perception. I often hear people question why someone who is incarcerated should get a college education. My answer is always the same: because it works. Education creates stability. Learning helps people grow and become contributors. And preparing someone for life after prison is always a better investment than preparing them for a return to it. I speak not just as an administrator, but as someone whose own academic journey came with challenges. Growing up with speech and hearing difficulties, I never found school easy. But college gave me structure, purpose, and the confidence to know I could succeed. Now I help ensure that the same opportunity exists for others, many of whom are making the most of it in the hardest environment possible. They are focused, respectful, curious, and committed. They know what's at stake. They show up early, ask questions, support their peers, and turn in their work on time. It's hard not to be inspired by that. This is not just theory. This is happening every day in our facilities. It's not perfect, but it's working. College behind bars is changing lives in Virginia and it's doing so because Virginia is laying the groundwork for second chances rooted in education. College behind bars is more than a concept. In Virginia, it's a strategy that is helping people rebuild their lives, strengthen their families, and return home with more than hope. They return with credentials, skills, and a renewed sense of purpose, and that benefits all of us.
Yahoo
16-02-2025
- Yahoo
Second chance school: LCSC's prison education program helps inmates in Orofino
Feb. 16—OROFINO — Lance Barnes is almost halfway through a 10-year prison sentence at the Idaho Correctional Institution in Orofino. He's also in his third semester as a student at Lewis-Clark State College. "I certainly didn't think I would be coming to prison to educate myself," Barnes said. Barnes, who's now 42 and a student with a 4.0 GPA, is one of roughly 150 student inmates at facilities in Orofino, Pocatello and Boise receiving a college education through LCSC. The program started as a pilot with the United States Department of Education about three years ago, said Cynthia Pemberton, the president of LCSC. In the U.S., prisoners were allowed to receive federal Pell Grants for their education, until it was banned in 1994. The Second Chance Pell Grant reintroduced the possibility in 2015. The college first applied as an experimental Pell Grant site for prison education in 2022, and became the first in the state to be approved by the Department of Education in October. Getting approved was no small feat, Pemberton said. Prison education programs need to be set up entirely separate from the rest of the institution's programming. Everything — from how information technology was delivered, to courses both in-person and online, to applications for admissions, to the ability to apply for financial aid — had to be in place just to be able to apply as a prison education program, she said. "We made history for this institution," Pemberton said. Students in the program say the classes are helping them gain confidence, and prove to themselves and their families that they can rise to a challenge. Barnes is taking three classes this spring: math, English and business marketing. "A lot of us have been talking to our families for a long time about change, but not really showing them," Barnes said. "So, this is proof." Multiple meta-analyses have shown that inmates who participated in correctional education programs had lower odds of reoffending than those who did not. "There's a lot of people who have been here five times, and I'm convinced aren't going to come back again because of this experience," said 28-year-old Dakota Turner. Turner, another student, is eight years into his 13-year sentence. He's taking classes in accounting, business leadership, English and business marketing. Turner said he made some bad decisions when he was younger. This time around, he wants to make the most of the chance he's given. "Second chances are hard to come by. I feel like this was my second chance at an education," he said. "I know how much it hurt me going through high school and forfeiting that opportunity. So, I really wanted to make the most of it now." Students say classes also provide structure, and give them something positive to talk about when they call their families back home. "We have very limited visits," Turner said. "So, they don't really see the change in person. Being able to hear that over the phone, it gives them hope for the future." Both Turner and Barnes said one of their biggest goals is to be able to return with the skills to contribute to their families and communities. Daily headlines, straight to your inboxRead it online first and stay up-to-date, delivered daily at 7 AM Barnes will be coming home to a daughter and stepchildren, he said. Turner said he hopes to reconnect to his family. He wants to be a mentor to people who've gone through similar experiences as him, he said. "I want to be a part of my family again, and I want to have kids," Turner said. "I want to be able to show them the way in this life, having lived on both sides of the fence." LCSC's prison education program graduated three students in Orofino last year. An additional five students in Orofino, and two in Boise, are expected to graduate this spring. Two more students who were released from prison are now taking in-person classes on campus, said Dovie Willey, the college's adult and corrections education director. "They were very successful in that transition process. They have jobs, and they're back completing their education," she said. For students who complete their degrees before finishing their sentences, graduation ceremonies are held with faculty administration at the correctional facilities. Those ceremonies are done the same way they would be for any other students, Pemberton said, with full regalia, speeches and music. Families are invited to come watch and celebrate students' accomplishments. "I still remember the conversations with the families," said Andy Hanson, senior vice president at LCSC. "There was kind of a new hope. They were so proud." Barnes said he and his older brother took a similar path, and are both incarcerated. He said prison education has helped him find new ways to deal with challenges. "I didn't really know how to ask for help. And I didn't trust people," Barnes said. "To be at a place where I feel like there's people that I can trust, and my opinions are valued, my thoughts are valued — gaining that sense of community has made me think about others more than just thinking about myself." Kent Shriver, deputy warden of operations, said within the facility, educational opportunities improve behavior among inmates — even those who aren't leaving anytime soon. He's noticed incarcerated people at his facility are able to find community and connection in their classes and study groups. They're happier, and more hopeful, he said. "If I'm having a bad day, I just come to the school because everybody's excited," he said. "Everybody loves what they're doing. They're all, 'Hey, how you doing?' They want to shake your hand." The program also has the potential to keep going as long as there's enough instructors, Pemberton said. The program's principal funding comes from federal financial aid, alongside some charitable donations. "We built a business model that would demonstrate how many students we needed, what that revenue generation would be, and what the cost associated with delivering the program would be," Pemberton said. "(We) had to make sure the program could pay for itself. And it does." Students in the program are required to meet the same requirements and take the same placement tests as regular students, Pemberton said. While some instructors were initially uncertain about teaching prison education classes, Wiley said many now relish the opportunity. "Everybody's a little nervous about going into a facility because they think of what they've seen on TV," she said. "Once they've started their classes, they are just so impressed." Sun may be contacted at rsun@ or on Twitter at @Rachel_M_Sun. This report is made in partnership with Northwest Public Broadcasting, the Lewiston Tribune and the Moscow-Pullman Daily News.
