Julio Medina: “We Need Help Now”

Inspired by The New York Theological Seminary program at Sing Sing, the founder of Exodus Transitional Community is making sure that he and fellow formerly-incarcerated people are not defined by the worst moments of their lives

For Julio Medina, founder of Exodus Transitional Community, a childhood of poverty in the South Bronx led to drug-dealing, gangs and 12 years in prison. Upon release, he learned the importance of immediate assistance. “We need help now,” he urges. “Recidivism happens in the first six months.” He drew on his religious faith to start Exodus in 1999, providing community for the newly released, preparing them to find jobs and addressing the dangers of addiction. “I want to fill that hole where people are falling into, fill that hole where recidivism happens.”

We visited the community leader’s Harlem office to talk Exodus Transitional Community, overcoming the inherent disdain he experienced coming back from prison, balancing his vision and ambitions with the realities of reentry and reintregation, and the ongoing efforts to restore the right to vote.

NEW YORKERS FOR JUSTICE: How did reentry and integration become such a big part of your life’s mission?

JULIO MEDINA: I grew up in South Bronx, which was one of the poorest economic areas back then in the country. I’m a son of a hardworking mother and stepfather, with four older brothers and a sister. Watching my mother with three jobs — I never wanted to work as hard as her. I always said, “There’s got to be something easier.”

And the only success I saw were people selling drugs.

Fast forward and I was convicted with nine other people by the Organized Crime Task Force. I ended up spending 12 years in prison. During that time, I experienced one of those “wake-up” moments that everybody talks about — for me, it was seeing and watching good people on the inside.

I know they committed a crime. I don’t want to say it was a mistake — they committed a crime. And I committed a crime. I want to take responsibility for that. Doesn’t matter what happened. I hurt people — drugs are not nonviolent.

But I wanted to do something about it. I wanted to change the narrative.

On the inside, you’re thinking, I can’t wait to get out, this is going be great. But that’s not it, man — we end up walking through the wilderness — it’s difficult, a challenge. Your wife left, your kids left, and nobody cares about you. You ain’t going to find a job, but you need to stay out. How are we going to help you do that?

Our prison systems are built to better us and not be punitive…but recidivism is 60%. What’s happening? What’s wrong with this narrative?

When was the first time you realized that there was a need for an organization like Exodus Transitional Community?

Let me tell you this before I get to that because I think it’s important as well: when you go to parole boards in New York state, you go in front of commissioners and you’ve got five minutes to present — they read your case and they make a decision.

I remember going to the parole board and one of the commissioners asking, “Is there anything you have to say?” Of course there is — this is your life on the line and this is the person who’s going to let you out. I’ll never forget it: I began saying that I was a changed person, and used the word “empower” when talking about returning to my community, but then he cut me off. He said, “You’re a vulture. That’s all you’ll ever be: a vulture. You prey on the innocence of communities as a drug dealer, so don’t give me any of this psychobabble BS.” I was denied for two more years.

Parole commissioners have such a huge responsibility on their shoulders now, to stop and see the person and take into consideration what they’re doing on the inside, and not just look at a record and say this is all this person is.

It’s a point I wanted to make sure I mentioned

When I got out, I didn’t want to just take a number. This is no slight on any program, but I wanted something that was able to speak to my needs, the needs I had suddenly living with my mother after having been somewhat financially successful on the other side.

You ask yourself: How do I balance this new situation, and these needs, with not going back to prison? What are the programs that are out there?

So you go and knock on doors of these programs you hear about. You might get a Medicaid card or something, but a lot of the time people are turned away. People don’t realize that: so many of us are turned away from the help we need by the programs meant to help.

And we need help. Not six months from now. Not a year from now. We need help now — recidivism happens in the first six months of one’s release — that’s when it’s the highest rate of going back.

So I came up with a model.

I remember going to the pastor at the Church of the Living Hope and saying, “You know what? this model works: it’s the model that was inside; I want to move it outside — I want to fill that hole where people are falling into, fill that hole where recidivism happens.”

We’ve got 43 employees now. Back then, it was me and that was it. 19 years ago, I was a volunteer saying, “We can build something that the community wants that’s going to keep the community safe as well.” And not only for the people coming back, but for the community — we wanted to make sure we involved sponsors, that there were stakeholders. And to put real human faces to it — make it genuine, with people not afraid of us coming back.

For those coming back, it was about providing them with the community they need.

So many people are connected to family, but they lost those ties after 10 years. How do you reestablish that? Also, for a lot of people you’ve never worked in your life, and a minimum wage job in New York City is not going to pay the bills now. What’s your career platform? What are you looking to do and how do we help you build that career?

We talk about spirituality…95% of people inside subscribe to some type of religion, whatever that is. Who’s feeding that now? Are we abandoning those principles or is someone talking to the Muslim, going to mosque — who’s helping that transition?

Then there’s substance abuse: 70% of people inside have some type of experience. I think about 48% have an addiction. How do we address it in a way that’s nontraditional, that’s going to speak to the 16-year-old, 17-year old who’s smoking crack, where a 12-step model won’t be the answer.

Did you immediately start Exodus after you were released?

I started it two years after. Inside, I got educated and ended up with a master’s degree, and I thought, World, I’m ready. I’m going to get a job. When I was released in ’96, I went on job interview after job interview — like twenty of them — and go twenty nos. Well, there was one place that never said, “no”…directly.

Three months of job searching and nothing. Nothing.

I’m like, Okay. I’m resilient, and I came out with maybe more skills than a few of the other people inside. But if this is happening to me, what’s going to happen to the guys who I taught ABE, Adult Basic Education — guys who couldn’t read or write when I was inside. What’s going to happen to them if they ever get out?

Who’s prepared for that? What program is going to be able to open its doors and say, “Come on in! We welcome you. Let’s figure out what next steps are.”

For me, that was it: that was the catalyst for Exodus — going on interview after interview and not finding a job. I thought, What better advocate than I?

The main thing is, don’t commit a crime and you stay out. But there were no organizations at the moment that were run by someone that had been impacted by the justice system and knew how to navigate reentry. It was to all the naysayers that I wanted to say, “There’s more to this than meets the eye — prison was not to take away our brain power and ability to think on our own, but to learn to look at life in a different way.”

Mostly, Exodus is a platform for us to tell the community we want to help and be helped — that we want to grow together.

I’d love to hear about the Exodus’s growth. What were biggest obstacles to success? What milestones did you set out for?

When Exodus started, it was: “We don’t trust you — you’re on parole. How dare you ask for funding?”

We actually had a funding agency visit when we were two years old. I was really excited and was thinking, This is going to work. They did a site visit. Then they came for a second visit. And when they did, I was like: we in. It was for, I don’t know…$50 grand. One of the guys pulls me to the side and tells me, in Spanish, “Listen, we’re not funding you. This is just part of our process. But we’re not funding you — we want you to know that.”

And I appreciated it, don’t get me wrong, but it showed that we just have so much more to do to get the support we need. But I knew that one day they would believe in what we’re doing — that one day we’d deliver.

So I think some of the things were really basic — building trust takes a lot of people standing up, including politicians. That was one of the biggest impediments; to this day, there’s a felony on my record. Even being well known the way we are, we still run into barriers with funders. This is about people, and getting them to trust us and allow us to do this work.

Exodus has five pillars — Youth Empowerment, Employment & Re-Entry, Recovery & Wellness, Housing, Education & Training — how did you identify those as the pillars for the organization, the ones you’d embrace?

It goes back to principle. But I also had a research team.

While I was still in prison, I would see people coming back. So I asked, “Brothers, why you coming back?” They said, “I had no place to go. I felt that I didn’t belong there. I couldn’t find a job and I started drinking. And I was young when I came in — I never had an opportunity to get work. I’m 26. I came here when I was 16. I’ve never even been with a woman before.” I’m hearing this and I’m like, SHIT.

My research team inside had zero qualifications. But we said, “You know what? This seems to be the reason why everybody’s coming back. Why don’t we figure out how we really do this right?”

So those pillars come from the mouths of people who have gone back. It wasn’t a John Jay study or anything else. This came from people who said, “I need to help.” Real people. And real lives. Especially young people — we realized they had no skills when they came in.

80% of my staff has been justice involved. They’re also educated — they’ve gotten their degrees and everything else. So who better than us to help? Who better than us to make sure the incredible message gets out there. This ain’t bragging, it ain’t any of that. It’s empowering. And it’s education.

These days, you’re seen as an influential figure. But you talk about authenticity. How do you maintain authenticity through all this, as your own situation evolves and changes through your recent experiences and successes?

You know what? I’m still going through Green Haven. Next week, I’m going into Sing Sing. And we respond to letters. I make it a point to stay connected. They know who I am.

For me, it’s not difficult in staying connected. I sit on the governors council to try and influence policy, but yet the following day I’m in Sing Sing teaching a class. Or I’m in Green Haven doing some work with 75 men in the room.

For me, the authenticity is just the person that I am.

I served 12 years. It still feels like yesterday. It doesn’t matter how hard I work, I’m never that far removed from that. I don’t want people going back. I want our community safe. And it’s just…I cannot remove myself from that. Sometimes I think, Is there a shortcut to this work — like do I have to wake up at four in morning? But there isn’t.

Even if I can enjoy these small freedoms, as long as people are suffering, then I’m not free. I’m just fortunate.

My staff keeps me humble. And I have a great board that helps guide the mission and the vision.

The other day, I had a moment: we had a labor contract, a million dollar contract. It was for 16 to 24 year-old males — nonviolent, nonsexual, recently released.

So this guy comes in, and I’m like, “What’s up little brother? How you doing, man? You just get home? Nonviolent beef, right?” He’s like, “Yeah…” And I stopped right there — I hadn’t asked him if he ate the night before. Or where he had slept. I was measuring him for the contract. If I’m doing this as the lead of the organization and the rest of the staff is following me…what am I even doing here?

Let’s start ask by ’em the basics. Let’s welcome folk home in a way that at least shows we care about them, as opposed to just swiping the Medicaid card.

What policies are you behind as an organization at the state level, local level, national level? Which are the biggest obstacles?

I’m most excited about the announcement of restoring to right to vote. It is truly one of the most exciting things. I’d like to cut the state up into four sections — north, east, south, west…and start the educational process in prison so guys get out really energized, and allowing them to see the power of the vote.

Some areas in the Bronx are the highest crime areas and with the lowest voter turnout, so for us, it’s really important. And I’m not only looking forward to voter registration, but getting people to actually vote, and getting people to vote in a block. And not just in New York but across the country. How do gain the power we need to influence the policy that’s working against us?

As for what I’m not excited about?

The five-year parole board that was introduced. Where is your conscience at with that? Where is your conscience at when you’re talking about someone waiting five years to go back to the parole board — two years is not enough?

Also, I heard an advertisement recently from PBA about Herman Bell’s release, and policy being introduced about how murderers of cops should never be out. No life should be more important than another life. And as someone who lost his stepfather to a violent act in Brooklyn in 1979, I totally disagree with someone spending the rest of their life in jail.

I think policies that are misguided, like some that are being introduced now, make it clear that we value one life over another — and usually the life that we de-value ends up being a life of color.

Statistics tells us that 83% of people that get locked up come from poor communities, are black/Latino and lived in poverty all their lives. And even thought they aren’t necessarily the biggest consumers of drugs or anything else, they are disproportionally locked up at a higher rate. So for me, when we talk about policy, we’ve also got to talk about race and how do we move away from race and make this fair across the board.

How important has the community — whether that is the Harlem, the Bronx, or wherever you refer to when you mention your hood — been to the effort? Both as a part of it and as a support?

I live in the Bronx, but when I talk about my hood, my hood could be in South Central — wherever there’s pain, that’s my hood. In these hoods, most crimes are committed in a two-mile radius. If a murder happens, the guy who lives across the street probably knows both of them, the murderer and the guy who got murdered.

You see, there’s a lot of pain in our communities. How do we help to heal that? Not only for the victims and their families, but for everyone else.

I think for us, for Exodus, it’s to be visible. And supportive in bringing the community together. We recently did a bus trip to DC to protest against the lack of funding that was happening in Puerto Rico; we organized people from our community, people that just got out of prison, people who’ve never been on a bus before, and filled up two buses to DC.

There are some people who experienced first-hand pain — their grandson was murdered — so they have a feeling that those people should remain in prison all their lives. But for those people, the people coming back, they’re saying, “I’m sorry for that loss — I could’ve been that person, too. I’ve done this, but I’ve changed my life.”

We’ve established points of communication where people on both sides are able to talk.

Now when they hear the name Exodus, they think justice — sure, they’re thinking about people are getting out of prison, but they’re also thinking about the impact it’s going to have on the community. They know I’m here to protect. I don’t want to get robbed either. We’re here to protect their interests as well. But we also believe in second chance.

How do you feel about what’s happening right now? Specifically the national conversation and rhetoric from both sides?

We always talk about entry points. You have someone who works all day and gets the 20 minute of news because she or he have to feed the kids, do whatever it is — life happens, right? So you get this 20 minutes of news to draw your world views on — as misguided as that may be, this is what you’re drawing your views on.

It’s scary, right, for lack of a better term to hear what’s going on — to see the mean spiritedness being generated by the current administration on a national level, that’s clearly racial, and has brought out every bigoted person that you can think, joining forces.

With that said, it’s also a time for leaders around the country to look at this and mobilize a base. What better time for our young leaders go out there and mobilize, and talk about all these different movements that have sprung up in response to these injustices that are happening.

We have to expand on that. We have to be able to touch people in those communities. And it can’t be for a moment.

I think it can be accomplished with true, authentic electeds that want to make something very real and very original for our communities, and do the work we need to do.

What are you most excited about?

Restoring the right the vote — I couldn’t be more excited about this. I really want people’s help with this. I’m going around asking foundations for money. I want to do this. And the governor’s pardon power — how this is going to roll out to restore the right to vote for people coming off. I’m waving a flag on this.

A specific effort I want readers to get behind “Felon Disenfranchisement.” Our Governor is looking to restore the voting rights of those convicted of a felony as soon as they are released from prison (not parole). This will restore hope to thousands of women and men returning to our communities and provide full citizenship!

Across the country we have about six million Americans whose felony conviction has forfeited their right to vote.

Something must change and it’s refreshing to know movements across the country are addressing felon disenfranchisement and gaining some momentum to correct the historically misconstrued concept that dates back to slavery and inequality.

What advice can you give to other organizations or activists looking to have real impact?

What advice could I give community leaders and nonprofits? I think sometimes we become territorial around a movement and we become our worst enemies. (I’m part of that, so I don’t want to exclude myself.) But at these moments, there’s no time for petty bickering and fighting. It’s collaborate or perish. That’s what it comes down to.

Exodus is willing to collaborate, and we want all our partners at the table.

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