Showing Up Matters: Reentry Starts Before the Prison Gates Open

Here are all the empty seats.....WHERE WERE YOU?

This weekend, On The Way Home traveled to Dothan to host a Family Reentry Workshop.

We prepared workbooks, participant materials, food, supplies, and resources. Community professionals and speakers gave up part of their Saturday to be there. We traveled to another part of Alabama because we believed families there deserved access to information that could help them prepare for a loved one coming home from incarceration.

Five people registered for the workshop.

Not one registered participant showed up.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't extremely disappointed.

But this isn't a post written simply because I am upset about empty seats. Dothan brought up a much larger issue that I believe we need to talk about honestly.

We hear constantly that there aren't enough resources for people coming home from prison or for the families waiting on them.

Sometimes that is absolutely true.

But we also have to talk about what happens when resources are available and we don't use them.

Love Is Not a Reentry Plan

Families are often expected to somehow know how to handle reentry simply because they love the person coming home.

But love doesn't automatically prepare you for reentry.

You can love someone with everything you have and still not understand parole or supervision.

You can love them and not know where to find employment, housing, treatment, transportation, identification assistance, or other resources.

You can love them and struggle to establish boundaries.

You can love them and not understand how years of incarceration may have changed them—or how life on the outside has changed while they were gone.

You can love them and still be completely unprepared for the financial, emotional, and practical reality of having them home.

Love matters. But love is not a reentry plan.

Preparation matters too.

That's why we created the Family Reentry Workshop.

Our goal isn't to tell families how to live or how to handle their loved ones. It is to give families practical information, tools, resources, and a place to start preparing before a crisis happens.

Reentry Is Not Only the Returning Person's Responsibility

We put a tremendous amount of responsibility on people coming home from prison.

We expect them to find employment.

Report to supervision.

Follow rules.

Attend appointments.

Avoid old influences.

Rebuild relationships.

Learn new technology.

Manage money.

Find transportation.

Make good decisions.

Ask for help when they need it.

And, ultimately, show up for their responsibilities.

But successful reentry cannot rest entirely on the shoulders of the person walking out of prison.

If that person is coming home to a family, the family needs preparation too.

What are the household expectations?

What can you realistically provide—and what can't you provide?

What are your boundaries?

How will transportation work?

What happens with money?

What does supervision require?

What happens when there is conflict?

Who do you call when something goes wrong?

What happens if Plan A falls apart?

Families don't need to have all the answers.

But they need to be willing to learn.

Our own workshop model is built around giving families practical tools for planning, communication, boundaries, crisis prevention, and household stability because family preparation is an important part of the reentry process.

Free Doesn't Mean It Costs Nothing

Our Family Reentry Workshops are free to participants.

But they are not free to provide.

For Dothan, we prepared materials, workbooks, participant bags, food, supplies, and resources based on the people we expected to attend.

Speakers and others gave their time.

And there was a personal cost as well.

I am the founder of On The Way Home, but I also have a family and a regular job.

For this workshop, I personally paid the $221 hotel bill.

I paid for my own gas.

I paid for my own food.

I left my family for the weekend.

I gave up the opportunity to work overtime hours at my regular job so I could travel to Dothan and provide this workshop.

I don't share that because I want sympathy or recognition.

I share it because I want people to understand something about small nonprofits like ours:

Sometimes bringing a "free" resource into a community happens because someone behind the scenes decided,

This matters enough that I am willing to give something up to make it happen.

And I was willing to do that.

Our speakers were willing to do that.

Others who helped us were willing to do that.

But eventually, we have to ask families to meet us halfway.

We Cannot Want This More Than You Do

This may be uncomfortable to hear, but I think it needs to be said.

If you aren't willing to sacrifice some of your time to prepare for your loved one's return, how can you continually expect other people to sacrifice theirs?

We cannot want successful reentry for your loved one more than you do.

We cannot prepare your household for you.

We cannot make you learn what resources are available.

We cannot make you ask questions before there is a crisis.

And as a small nonprofit with limited resources, we cannot continue spending money and taking resources into communities where no one shows up when there may be families somewhere else asking us to come.

That's not punishment.

That's responsible stewardship of limited resources.

Every workbook costs something.

Every meal costs something.

Every mile costs something.

Every speaker's time has value.

Every volunteer's Saturday has value.

Every dollar we spend in one community is a dollar we cannot spend somewhere else.

So when you RSVP for a free event, please understand that your registration matters.

We understand emergencies happen. Children get sick. Cars break down. Work schedules change. Life happens.

But if you know you can't come, tell us.

A phone call, email, text, or Facebook message costs nothing.

An empty chair does.

What Could Not Preparing Cost Your Family Later?

Maybe attending a workshop isn't convenient.

Maybe it's a hot Saturday and you'd rather stay home.

Maybe you have to drive farther than you'd like.

Maybe your loved one's release is months—or even years—away, so preparing doesn't feel urgent.

But I want families to consider the alternative.

What happens when your loved one comes home and neither of you knows where to turn?

What happens when the excitement of release wears off and real life begins?

What happens when transportation falls through?

When they can't find work?

When there's conflict in the house?

When supervision requirements become overwhelming?

When they're frustrated?

When you're exhausted?

When old people, old places, old habits, and old ways of surviving start looking familiar again?

And what happens if eventually they return to the same behaviors that contributed to incarceration in the first place—and ultimately return to prison?

What will that cost your family?

A few hours spent preparing suddenly doesn't seem like such a large sacrifice.

Reentry matters whether someone has been incarcerated for six months or twenty years.

In fact, the longer someone has been gone, the more different the world waiting for them may be.

There are resources available—but there are not unlimited resources.

And sometimes the difference between knowing where to turn and feeling like there is nowhere to turn is simply whether someone took the time to learn what was available before they desperately needed it.

Complaining About the Problem Won't Solve It

This is another difficult part of the conversation.

We cannot continually say:

"There isn't any help."

"Nobody cares about people coming home."

"Families don't know where to go."

"There aren't enough resources."

…and then do nothing when someone brings those resources into our community.

Complaining about the same problem over and over while doing nothing to help solve it helps no one.

If transportation is keeping families away, tell us.

If our location isn't accessible, tell us.

If the time doesn't work, tell us.

If we're missing something families actually need, tell us.

We need that feedback.

But we cannot fix what we don't know.

And an empty room doesn't tell us what families need.

Communication does.

Participation does.

Showing up does.

Where Should We Go Next?

On The Way Home is still deciding where our next Family Reentry Workshop will be held.

After Dothan, we're asking a slightly different question.

Not simply:

Where is there a need?

There is need all across Alabama.

We're asking:

Where are the families who are ready to show up?

If you have an incarcerated loved one and want us to bring a Family Reentry Workshop closer to your community, reach out to us.

If several families in your area would attend, tell us.

If you're part of a church, nonprofit, community organization, reentry program, correctional agency, or

other organization that can help us get families into the room, let's talk.

We don't need a room filled with 100 people.

We need families who genuinely want the information and are willing to show up and receive it.

On The Way Home will continue doing our part.

We'll bring the information.

We'll prepare the materials.

We'll find community partners.

We'll invite knowledgeable speakers.

We'll travel when our resources allow us to.

We'll keep advocating for families impacted by incarceration.

But we need families to do their part too.

If we expect the person coming home to make sacrifices, show up, ask for help, learn new ways of doing things, and take their second chance seriously, then those of us waiting on the other side of the gate have to be willing to show up too.

Because successful reentry doesn't begin the morning someone walks out of prison.

It begins with preparation.

It begins with asking questions.

It begins with learning what's available.

It begins with families deciding that this matters enough to give up a few hours of their time.

And sometimes, it begins simply by taking a seat in the room.

We cannot want successful reentry for your loved one more than you do.

Love matters. Preparation matters. Showing up matters.

Kelly Lang - Founder,

On The Way Home Reentry