“You get an ID, I’ll give you a job.”
Nine more powerful words were never spoken to a man who goes by the name Bodhi. For most Idahoans—who continue to struggle in a low-wage, low-opportunity economy—showing ID is a low bar to clear if it means obtaining gainful employment with decent pay. Bodhi is not most Idahoans.
He was homeless.
He’s an ex-convict.
He wanted a job.
All he needed was identification.
What ensued was a six-month journey though Idaho’s bureaucracy that ended in Bodhi getting his picture ID and a job working for a cement company.
In the process, we helped form a task force with the Idaho Department of Transportation, Idaho Department of Motor Vehicles and Idaho Department of Correction where everyone learned about Bodhi’s plight and how difficult the system was making it for people who want to work. You can listen to the whole story at tinyurl.com/tws-convictid. It’s instructive—and inspirational—to say the least.
All this time later, Idaho’s prisons are now issuing photo IDs to newly released inmates so they don’t have to go through what Bodhi did. Facilities in Boise, Pocatello and Orofino are already online. Officials hope to get the machines installed in the rest of the state prisons by the fall of 2019.
The reason for this program is simple. When inmates get out, they don’t want to go back. We don’t want them to go back, either. It’s much safer and cheaper for all of us if they can get jobs, pay taxes and sustain themselves. The first step down that path starts with obtaining photo identification.
Showing ID is among the most routine things we do. We need it to get a birth certificate or Social Security card, to rent a car or get on a plane, to gain entry to certain public and private buildings. In Idaho, you need an ID to vote. In Bodhi’s case, he needed one to get a job. When Idahoans face so many barriers to getting ahead, obtaining an ID should not be added to the list.
The inmate ID program is yet another example of a bipartisan national trend toward revamping how we administer America’s criminal justice system. Whether it’s bail reform, rethinking mandatory minimums, or improving prison administration, leaders of all political affiliations are putting aside their differences to produce a system that protects constitutional principles, strengthens public safety and empowers men and women to return to the world as productive citizens. In this vein, the inmate ID machines are a small investment that can pay dividends for a lifetime.
This program also puts Idaho ahead of the curve on a national level. To date, only a handful of states have systems in place to provide released inmates with some form of identification. Leaders with the IDOC and ITD should be hailed for thinking long-term. They understand the identification program is, at its foundation, a public safety issue. The men and women who have done their time want to return to their families, their communities and the workplace. They want to be productive, tax-paying members of society. The last thing they want to do is go back to prison or end up homeless or unemployed. The first step toward that goal is being able to prove to the world that they are who they say they are. Bodhi perfectly expressed that ideal upon receiving his ID when he said, “Thank you for making me human again.”
Although humanity can be respected and celebrated in many ways, for someone like Bodhi, rediscovering humanity started with a piece of plastic that contains his name and picture. From that tiny, laminated card sprung employment. Self-respect. Security. A future. Idaho became better off the day Bodhi received his photo ID.
Bodhi remains employed by that cement company to this very day. He rents his own room and drives a red work truck, paid for with his earnings.
If Idaho is going to pull itself up from the bottom, we must think long-term and invest in programs that benefit all of us. Putting systems in place that help keep inmates out of jail, off the streets and in a position to empower themselves is a quality investment for all Idahoans. No one who wants to work should have to jump through the hoops Bodhi did. Especially when all he needed was something he already had: his identity.
“You get an ID, I’ll give you a job.”
Nine more powerful words were never spoken.
Jodi Peterson is the executive director of Interfaith Sanctuary shelter in Boise; Rep. Melissa Wintrow is a member of the Idaho House of Representatives (D-Boise).