Jesse Cornish spent 18 years in Solano State Prison. In June, three days before the 39-year-old was released, he learned he would have no parole.
People released from prison without parole do not have a parole officer, someone who can supervise them and serve as a resource, connecting them with housing, substance abuse treatment, and other programs.
That meant Cornish, who grew up in Oakland, would have to find a place to live, secure a job, obtain an ID card, get a bus pass, buy a cellphone, and figure out how to navigate life — on his own.
In California, people released from prison receive $200 in so-called “gate money” to help cover those expenses. But formerly incarcerated people and advocates say the amount is outdated and insufficient. The allowance was established in 1973 and has never been adjusted. (If it had kept pace with inflation, it would be worth more than $1,500 today.)
Unable to find a place to live, Cornish slept on his sister’s couch. His mother and brother, who had been part of his support system, died while he was imprisoned. He applied for jobs but was repeatedly turned down. It was hard for him to find a ride to places.
After a month and a half, “my confidence took a major hit,” Cornish said. “I ran into obstacle after obstacle.”
One day, he remembered he’d applied to a reentry program before he was released from prison. He figured his application was probably still on file, so he reached out to the organization.
Cornish eventually landed an interview with the nonprofit Creating Restorative Opportunities and Programs, or CROP, and was accepted into its “Ready 4 Life” residential fellowship that provides job training, life skills, leadership development, and mentorship.
Jesse Cornish, center, chimes in during a personal leadership session. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
“It was a no-brainer for us to pick Jesse,” said Michael Stone, a senior lead coach at CROP who interviewed Cornish. “He had the character that I was looking for, somebody who had that grit.”
CROP is one of several local nonprofits aiming to serve the nearly 27,000 people released from California prisons in the past year and the roughly 900 people on parole in Alameda County, according to data from the state Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. Like Cornish, many people returning home face discrimination and restrictions when applying for jobs or an apartment and accessing public services. CROP’s staff, many of whom are formerly incarcerated, say they want to help people transition back into society so they don’t return to prison.
“We believe that the people closest to the problem are closest to the solution,” Stone said.
From survival mode to stability
Some of CROP’s Ready 4 Life fellows, clockwise starting top left: Tyun Dodson, Jael Serrano, Jesse Cornish, Ivan Gonzalez, Kylin Smith, and Ismael Lopez. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
In late July, Cornish and nine other formerly incarcerated people, whom program organizers call “fellows,” moved into CROP’s headquarters in West Oakland. For the next 12 months, they will attend workshops from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on weekdays, a schedule intentionally structured like a traditional full-time job.
The fellows learn how to shift from a survival mindset to a prosocial one. They build credit and save money, send emails, create digital resumes, and develop other essential life skills.
Program fellows Jacque Baskin, left, and Jerry Madriz troubleshoot together on a laptop. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
During the second half of the program, fellows choose a professional track and receive job training and connections to employers, with the goal of securing sustainable employment after graduation. Career tracks include business-to-business tech sales, peer support, and skilled trades, in partnership with the Oakland Adult and Career Education, according to Alex Kimmons, CROP’s communications manager.
CROP hosts the fellowship every summer and fall in Oakland. The nonprofit also offers the program in Los Angeles in a hybrid format, but fellows do not receive housing there.
Participants receive a $1,000 monthly stipend. Of that, $600 goes into a checking account they can use immediately, while $400 goes into a savings account they can access upon graduation to help cover moving costs for their own place. CROP also provides $100 a week for groceries and transportation for field trips and other off-site activities. CROP provides laptops to fellows, many of whom had never used a laptop before the fellowship, for note-taking and teaches them how to navigate the internet.
“We want to give them a soft landing so they don’t have to stress about where they’re going to live, what they’re going to eat, and what they’re going to wear,” Stone said.
Stone walks fellows through mindset development, leadership, and other self-help issues. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
A program fellow’s notes from a leadership development training. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
Program fellow Lionel Hanson laughs after reading a prompt during a reentry support and career development session. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
Dodson shares his perspective during a leadership development session. Dodson, 50, was sentenced to life in prison at age 18. He was released after serving 32 years. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
The program is designed to address some of the biggest barriers people face after leaving prison: housing insecurity, unemployment, and a lack of support from people who understand the challenges of reentry.
A 2018 study by the Prison Policy Initiative found that formerly incarcerated people are 10 times more likely to experience homelessness than the general public. Among California’s unhoused population, 70% have a criminal record, according to a 2018 report from California Health Policy Strategies.
CROP President Terah Lawyer said the program aims to provide holistic, wraparound support while preventing recidivism.
Since its inception in 2023, 130 people have graduated from the program, Braden said. The recidivism rate among Ready 4 Life alumni is 0%, according to a draft independent evaluation by Public Profit, an outside firm, and CROP’s follow-up interviews with graduates.
“That is unheard of in reentry programs,” said Lawyer, who was incarcerated at 18 and sentenced to 15 years to life. She was released in 2017 after serving 15 years at the Central California Women’s Facility in Chowchilla.
A different kind of startup created by formerly incarcerated people
Matthew Braden, CROP’s director of operations, co-founded the organization during his incarceration. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
In 2008, Ted Gray, incarcerated at High Desert State Prison, and his father Mitch, who visited him frequently, established CROP as a nonprofit to fund in-prison sports and music programs that fostered interracial solidarity. The following year, Gray was transferred to Soledad Correctional Training Facility, where he met Jason Bryant, Richard Mireles, and Matthew Braden. The four men bonded over their desire to improve themselves and the people around them.
“We started to question what it would take to transform the culture of our environment because it was so criminogenic,” Braden told The Oaklandside.
Over the next decade, the men created and led self-help programs in the prison gymnasium. They launched a first-of-its-kind state-certified alcohol and other drug counseling program. They galvanized participants to raise more than $32,000 to send a 19-year-old to college. (People incarcerated in California typically earn between 8 and 37 cents per hour, according to the Prison Policy Initiative.) They facilitated leadership coaching workshops for hundreds of local community college students. They also wrote a book compiling stories from men serving life sentences at CTF Soledad.
In 2019, Mireles left prison after the state Board of Parole Hearings found him suitable for release. A few months later, a judge resentenced Braden, finding that he had served time for a murder he did not commit, and ordered his release. The following year, Gov. Gavin Newsom granted clemency to Gray and Bryant and commuted their sentences.
Braden built a gym for fellows living on CROP’s West Oakland campus. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
While incarcerated, Braden and the other co-founders had promised one another that if they were ever released, they would meet in Sacramento — “because that’s where the decisions are made,” Braden said — and find a way to turn their prison programming into something that could benefit other formerly incarcerated people.
“The easy answer was reentry,” he said. “That’s a space that’s been broken since its inception.”
They rented a small apartment in Folsom and sat around a kitchen table, developing a pitch deck and business plan. They envisioned a one-stop shop where people leaving prison could find housing, job training, and other support to set them up for long-term success.
Posters encouraging self-reflection are displayed throughout the classroom. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
Braden said they wanted to address common drivers of recidivism, including barriers to employment, housing insecurity, and a lack of peer support.
“A lot of reentry programs out there are segmented and siloed, and the services are meager at best,” Braden said.
The four men met with state leaders and started building support in 2020. According to Braden and Bryant, lawmakers from both parties supported their idea.
“Even strong right-wing politicians felt it makes financial sense,” Braden said. California spends $128,000 a year to incarcerate one person, according to the state Legislative Analyst’s Office. “That’s millions of dollars on incarceration versus a one-time investment to go through our program, and that person will never go back to prison.”
In 2021, the founders secured $28.5 million in funding — including $27 million from the state Legislature and another $1.5 million from then-state Sen. Nancy Skinner — to turn their vision into reality.
CROP launched Ready 4 Life in January 2023.
CROP’s facilities, located on Adeline Street, include an office for staff, a classroom for programming, and residential units and common areas for the fellows. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
Formerly incarcerated people with peer counseling experience work as “coaches,” providing instruction and mentorship. Every other Friday, fellows participate in community service, such as volunteering at a soup kitchen or cleaning local parks.
“It’s not just about investing in yourself, but also seeing your value in the community because you’re a part of the community,” Lawyer said.
“We believe it’s hard for someone to fail when they’re surrounded by people who are cheering them on,” Bryant said.
Bryant, now 47, was sentenced to 26 years to life in prison at age 20. He was released after serving 20 years.
Stone, affectionately known as “Coach Stone” among the program’s staff and participants, spent 20 years in California prisons on a 25-to-life sentence, moving from Delano to San Quentin, where he was paroled in 2020.
A barber, artist, and self-taught basketball and softball coach on prison yards, Stone used sports and art as his therapy and as a way to teach other men discipline and emotional awareness.
Stone, known as “Coach Stone” among CROP staff and program fellows, started coaching people while serving a life sentence in California prisons. He was released in 2020 after serving 20 years. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
When he was released at age 50, he lived in a bare-bones transitional home off International Boulevard in East Oakland, where he said he saw a man gunned down right outside his building. The noise and the crowds triggered his post-traumatic stress disorder.
“Within the first four months of my release, I was ready to go back to prison,” he said.
Instead, he joined CROP as a coach. He’d met the four founders while they were in prison and reconnected with them on the outside.
Before prison, Stone said, he’d never had a bank account or credit history and had never filed taxes. In his current role, he walks fellows through financial literacy, healing from trauma, and a “responsible mindset.”
Admission to the program is competitive. CROP received more than 800 applications for its first cohort, while about 300 people applied to join the sixth and current Bay Area cohort. The organization rigorously vets applicants because “we are investing in each and every person that comes through the program,” Stone said. “Once they graduate, we are co-signing their character when they’re going out and looking for careers.”
Jael Serrano, one of CROP’s current fellows, served four years and three months at the Central California Women’s Facility.
Growing up, Serrano said, she felt neglected by her parents and had a strained relationship with her siblings. She felt insecure and struggled to socialize with others. She turned to substances to cope.
“I’ve always told myself, ‘I’m not smart, I’m not worthy,’” she said during a leadership training session, which The Oaklandside observed Monday. “I got lost in my addiction because I never felt good enough.”
She learned about CROP while incarcerated and applied for the fellowship. As she prepared for her release, she had a Zoom interview with Stone. She was accepted into the program immediately afterward.
Serrano, center, listens to Stone during a leadership development session. Credit: Sarahbeth Maney for The Oaklandside
Serrano has enrolled in college and has focused on building her confidence and networking skills. She’s pursuing a career in social work and peer counseling to support others facing similar struggles.
She said she’s grateful for the chance to rebuild her life after incarceration.
“Even before prison, I felt stagnant, and I wasn’t doing anything with my life,” Serrano said. “Now that I’m here, I feel like I’m growing.”
Cornish said the program has given him something he struggled to find during his first two months home: stability and a path forward.
“Without this program, I would probably be walking the streets or at a homeless shelter,” he said. “Now I can just focus on getting my mindset right and building my career.”
Cornish plans to attend trade school and start his own painting or highway paving business so he can create jobs for other people leaving prison.
“I want to pay it forward,” he said.
For CROP’s founders and coaches, the ultimate goal of the program is to equip people returning home with the tools and support to build stable lives.
“The bottom line is most of us are coming home, and the question is, who do you want living next to you?” Stone said. “Do you want an individual who has done the work, has gotten the support, has a job, and is a responsible taxpaying citizen? Or do you want someone who has no support, has gone back to their survival needs, and is falling back on what they know best, which is crime?”
This story has been updated to clarify Alex Kimmons’ role with CROP.
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