A New Blog...A New Start...

This new Blog is for people like me...felons.

Yep. There you have it.
My secret.

I will not discuss the details of "my crime." This is not because I am ashamed of it, rather I don't want to single myself out or try to appear special in any way. I am not.
For the purposes of this Blog, it would be pointless to describe or tell "my story." Over the course of the past several months, I have told and retold it to complete strangers more times than I can remember. Some have understood, others have been apathetic. But, generally, it has led to the awkward, if not hastily ending of a conversation (I mean, interview) which seemed to be going quite well.

I have reached the point where I am not worried what people will think of me. I am honest and forthright. Take me as I am. You can believe what I say or not...I don't care any longer.
If anyone wants to know the circumstances surrounding my felony, it is like how I have listed my Facebook political views..."Just Ask." I will freely tell.
I shall offer you this much, though. I plead guilty to a non-violent, non-drug, non-theft related crime about 3 1/2 years ago. It is a Federal Crime. Because I plead guilty, I have no way of  getting this stain off my record. Ever. I was sentenced to 5 years probation.

While many may severely disagree with my beliefs, I am politically astute. I would be willing to wager any amount of money, I am more informed on any single issue than 97% of the people who will cast a ballot in this coming election. Yet...I have lost my beloved voting rights. In the future, I can make a request to regain them, but I will never again see my 2nd Amendment Right to keep and bear arms. That will always be taken from me. Any future spouse or mate must also forfeit his or her 2nd Amendment Right if he or she chooses to be with me. I can own a pocket knife, but this must be more of a tool than an actual cutting instrument...but that is for another post.

I am now a member of, what I call, the  Voiceless Population.
Why this name?
I belong to a group of people seldom few actually care about and nearly all write off.
I  (WE) face discrimination on a level not seen by any race, color, creed, religion, sex, sexual orientation or combination of  those groupings you can cluster together. You can claim that is not true or, maybe, even believe it to be justified somehow...but still it exists. I face it every single day. I live it.
And there is no recourse to combat it. None.
Who is there to talk to? Who would honestly listen and take action? Who would do more than offer a patronizing half- frown/half-smile, letting their eyes water up a bit in a shallow sign of pity.
I am not out for pity. I'm not wanting to hear words...empty words.
"I'll see what I can do." I do not desire to be proffered a handshake, firm and long as it may be, only to be escorted to the door. For I know the second I leave...I will be forgotten.

I am Voiceless. We are Voiceless.

We are not a voting block or constituency. We do not hold rallies or meetings. Why? Because felons are banned from meeting together. Nice how that one works out, huh? We do not have "grass roots" organizations. Who cares about felons, but their families? Felons are expected, yes expected, to fail. So, who wants listen to, let alone, hire a felon...do you?
Do you really believe in second chances, or is that just something you say?  Is it only for your children? No, I mean, that. Is it only for your children? Who deserves another chance? What is another chance? How do you define it?

What comes to mind when you see the letters F-E-L-O-N?

For most people, "Felon," instantly conjures up vague images of a burly man covered tats. More than likely he's killed someone or robbed a bank, maybe beaten up a cop. He's spent most of his life behind the walls of one institution or another.   He's about 6' 5" and has more muscle than a beast of burden. Probably, they figure there's teardrop marking, or two,  under his eyeball. He could be black or white. The man could be Hispanic or Oriental. Most of the time he has a shaved head, but always belongs to some sort of a gang. The truth is, his identity...this "felon"...is really more of an insight into someone's silent prejudices (but that's for another post too).

I am nothing like this.
I may be the least imposing figure you will meet. When I walk down the street, homeless men think I am an investment banker or a lawyer. As I slip through the slicked glass doors of banks in downtown Salt Lake City, I am greeted with friendly smiles from tellers expectantly waiting for me to give them my account number. If I am close enough, Police Officers will smirk and try to joke with me when I see them handing out a citation to a vagrant. I am articulate enough to pass for a teacher or professor, maybe even a doctor.
I stopped into a ScottTrade (quite by accident) and two men nearly beat each other up to see who could get to me first.
Ha! Sorry, fellas, just your random felon walking in the wrong door.

The point is, they all thought I was "one of them."
But I'm not.
As presentable as I am...as good of a show as I can present...
I can never work in a bank. I can never be a Police Officer. I can never be a lawyer. I can never be stockbroker.
I am far closer to the man getting the ticket, than I am anyone else.

I am Voiceless. We are Voiceless.

I mentioned discrimination. That's a tough word, a hard word.

Did you know apartment complexes now ask if you have EVER been convicted of a felony? To the average person that may seem like nothing. To me...to us...that's horrific. Ever? So, now...after we have served our sentence..."paid our debt to Society"...we can be denied a place to live.

Applications for employment ask the same thing...ever? Ever?

How dare you ask me such a thing.

If I served my time, I owe no further explanation. None. If a debt is paid...it is paid. To ask if I have ever...EVER...been convicted of a crime, is absurd. How can a debt to Society fully be paid off, if a word like "ever" is used? The answer?
It can't.
I defy one person...any person...on this planet to lay out the justice in such an offenive question. I dare you to debate me on this. I will make a fool of you.

So what happens?
Felons are rejected from jobs and housing establishments. They end up gathering in collections of places which don't ask such questions. And the felons are blamed...because they are Voiceless.

This Blog will address these sorts of issues.
The project I am about to embark on...as massive a project as it may seem, but not really (and one I have been told I cannot do and am unqualified to accomplish), will start right here...right now.

Today, we get our Voice.


P.S. The best way to get me to do something...is to tell me I can't do it.

The point.

The point of this blog will become very clear over time.

I wanted to post something to get this started, though.


Now, let the process begin....