
When Richard Miles walked out of a Texas prison in 2009 after being cleared of a wrongful murder conviction, he carried newspaper articles about his case as proof of his innocence. Despite this evidence, employers at warehouses and fast-food chains refused to hire him.
Miles’ experience highlights a widespread problem facing the thousands of Americans who have been wrongfully convicted. Their struggles have gained renewed attention through the case of Calvin Duncan in New Orleans, who won an election for parish clerk but may never serve after Louisiana legislators voted to eliminate his position.
“We’re still kind of like looked at as an inmate that did a particular crime. It further deteriorates our ability to believe that the system can heal itself,” Miles explained. He eventually secured employment through connections at his church. “When cases like in Louisiana occur, it just shows us that the system is not healing itself.”
Duncan’s situation has struck a chord with exonerees nationwide who recognize the discrimination and suspicion they face while trying to start over. Duncan spent almost three decades behind bars before his murder conviction was overturned in 2021 when evidence showed police officers had provided false testimony. Voters elected him to oversee the Orleans Parish criminal court clerk’s office last November, with Duncan promising to reform the system that had wronged him. He was scheduled to begin his duties May 4.
Republican legislators who pushed to eliminate Duncan’s office claim their decision stems from efficiency concerns rather than his criminal justice history.
“Even if they are seen as somebody who is exonerated, there is still a stigma as somebody who has been in prison,” said Jon Eldan, who leads After Innocence, a California nonprofit organization.
Data from the National Registry of Exonerations shows more than 3,800 Americans have had their convictions overturned since 1989.
However, unlike individuals on parole or probation, those who are exonerated cannot access government programs that provide job placement help, housing support, and mental health care.
“I was turned down by many prisoner reentry organizations because they said, ‘Look, you’re not on parole, you’re not on probation,’” explained Jeffrey Deskovic, who served 16 years for rape and murder charges in Peekskill, New York, before his 2006 exoneration.
While 38 states have established compensation programs for the wrongfully convicted, recipients often wait years before receiving payments.
Eldan’s After Innocence organization connects exonerees with groups offering job preparation, housing assistance, and medical care. The group also works to correct criminal records to accurately reflect case outcomes.
Miles, who was imprisoned for more than 14 years, now operates Miles of Freedom, a Dallas nonprofit that assists formerly incarcerated people, including exonerees, in rebuilding their lives.
The obstacles Miles encountered while job hunting — including gaps in employment history and lack of current job skills — are common among exonerees. However, evidence suggests some employers simply refuse to hire anyone with a prison background.
No federal agencies track employment rates specifically for exonerees. Research on formerly incarcerated individuals shows unemployment rates far exceeding national averages. A 2018 Prison Policy Initiative study found unemployment above 27% for people with prison records. Separate 2021 federal data revealed 33% of federal inmates released in 2010 remained jobless four years later. The national unemployment rate stood at 4.3% in March.
Deskovic used compensation money received five years after his release to establish the Deskovic Foundation, a New York nonprofit focused on freeing wrongfully convicted individuals. He later earned a law degree to represent them in court.
Exonerees tell Deskovic that employment challenges persist much as they did when he sought work as a donut shop employee and newspaper reporter but couldn’t maintain steady employment.
Advocates point to Duncan as an example of someone who successfully rebuilt his life and achieved elected office, yet still faces questions about his innocence and post-release achievements.
“If he wasn’t an exoneree, would they be doing this to him? I’m sure that they would not,” Deskovic said.
Eldan’s organization collaborated with a Delaware state senator to create legislation providing compensation for wrongful imprisonment, along with monthly payments and assistance with housing, food benefits, and health insurance. The law also grants exonerees official certificates declaring their innocence and wrongful incarceration.
Eldan reports his group is partnering with officials in California, New Mexico, and other states to pass similar legislation providing innocence certificates and criminal record corrections.
Both Eldan and Miles advocate for increased state funding of post-release programs for exonerees.
“But it’s hard to write into a statute, something that actually translates into real benefit for these people,” Eldan noted. “It’s not because the state is bad, but because the state just is not particularly good at delivering those services.”
Ben Spencer endured 34 years in prison for a Dallas murder he didn’t commit before his 2021 exoneration and release. His applications for positions at an Amazon warehouse and as an airport baggage handler were unsuccessful.
Eventually, someone familiar with his case helped Spencer obtain work as a facilities engineer performing repairs for a company. He has held that position for five years.
“I think I’m kind of settling in a little more now. I’m still trying to figure out the cellphone and computers,” Spencer said. “When I walked out of the jail, it was like waking up out of a coma or a bad dream. And of course, I still had to try to get some financial stability. I guess I won’t say I’m there now, but I’m closer to where I wanna be now than I was.”







