All colleges should remove this barrier to people who've served time

Applying to college requires providing a colossal amount of information. There's one question that, more than most, causes many would-be students to give up: Have you ever been convicted of a felony?

Checking "yes" on the box while applying to one of the State University of New York's 64 campuses has meant receiving another slew of paperwork and inquiries - some of which cross the lines of privacy or are impossible to answer, according to a study by the Center for Community Alternatives, a prisoners rights organization. The group counted 38 additional documents the schools have required felons to provide.

At that point, two out of three felons give up. An admissions committee never has a chance to learn the details of the crime, or whether the person has put that chapter in his or her past. It's like saying a person's future can rise only as high as the worst mistake he or she has made.

As a society that wants to help people to reintegrate after serving time, with a fair chance of success, that's not good enough.

As a society that wants to help people to reintegrate after serving time, with a fair chance of success, that's not good enough.

Starting July 1, the beginning of the fall 2018 admissions cycle, SUNY will no longer ask that question before considering students for admission. That makes SUNY the nation's largest higher education system to reverse course. Some public university systems, such as California's and The City University of New York, don't ask about criminal history.

SUNY made this decision after considering the applicant drop-off rate reported in the Center for Community Alternatives' recent study. More than 86 other higher education systems and institutions around the country also have committed to distance their admissions decisions from criminal records, as part of the Obama administration's Fair Chance Higher Education Pledge in favor of expanding college opportunity for Americans who've served time behind bars.

This comes at a time of increasing fear that overpopulated prisons are simply turning out better-trained criminals who cycle back into the justice system at a high cost, both in terms of dollars and wasted lives.

Only after a student is accepted will a SUNY school ask about felony convictions, for the purposes of approving campus housing, clinical or field experiences, internships or study abroad programs. SUNY's information technology folks have even figured out how to hide the "felony" question when Common Application users apply for admission.

SUNY's decision is laudable, especially because getting a higher education is one of the best ways for former inmates to increase their chances of staying out of trouble.

College and Community Fellowship, a Manhattan-based group that helps formerly incarcerated women obtain college degrees, says 66 percent of incarcerated non-degree earners nationwide are likely to return to prison within three years of release. The likelihood drops to 5.6 percent with a bachelor's degree and less than 1 percent for people who earn a master's.

New Hour for Women and Children-LI, a nonprofit based in Brentwood, is trying to replicate CCF's program on Long Island. While SUNY's strides to "ban the box" asking about felonies will help many here, particularly at community colleges, it won't apply to private colleges and universities such as Hofstra, Adelphi, Touro, LIU Post or St. Joseph's.

Efforts to obtain details on their admissions policies went unanswered. Only New York Institute of Technology responded; it doesn't ask for criminal histories from applicants.

Bills in the State Legislature that would have banned the box for all New York colleges didn't get any traction this year. This is something lawmakers should reconsider for the next session.

First published in Newsday. Anne Michaud is the Interactive Opinion Editor for Newsday.

Local jail takes on substance abuse, a major cause of repeat crimes

Three years ago, Sean Paddock left a bar after drinking, got into his car, started driving and nearly killed someone. He was arrested and eventually served 18 months in the Suffolk County jail in Yaphank.

None of the facts of his situation - the near-miss fatality, a confrontation with police, court appearances, outpatient rehab - resonated deeply enough for Paddock, 30, to change his ways.

But he did find hope, of all places, in jail. He told his story to a crowd gathered May 18 for a ribbon-cutting of a new addiction-treatment wing in Yaphank.

Individual jail cells can be isolating. Suffolk County, NY, is experimenting with communal cells with inmates committed to going straight.

As a society, we are rethinking why and how we incarcerate people. We're contending with a soul-crushing rise in addiction to heroin, opioids, alcohol. Localities around the country are trying new ways to fight back and to rehabilitate people who commit crimes, but whose underlying problem is addiction.

This is Suffolk County's window into that transformation. Paddock's recovery isn't common, but it offers hope.

When he entered jail, he told the gathering, "I still had a selfish mindset." After participating in the addiction program, he realized that "a lot of my addiction was around insecurities and fears and uncomfortability with who I was as a person. I started developing gratitude in the program, and a newfound love for myself."

With his mother in the crowd, Paddock called himself a felon, but now also "a true member of society."

The program is an expansion of the drunken driving treatment that was offered at the jail for years, Sheriff Vincent DeMarco said in an interview. In the past five years, the jail population has dropped dramatically, making room for a wing of the building dedicated to treatment.

The treatment program is now also offered to women, and participants are housed separately from the general population, with two 24-bed common rooms, one for each gender.

Colleen Ansanelli, a licensed social worker who runs the treatment program, said the communal rooms are a big improvement. Although the open house at the new wing was held last week, it began operating on April 15.

"Their habits are to isolate, which is fostered by the structure of a jail," Ansanelli said in an interview. "This is more of a treatment community. It's much more intimate. If somebody isn't taking their recovery seriously, the group uncovers that."

There are private rooms for one-on-one counseling, which is key to getting someone to open up. "The thing that has to change is the thinking," Ansanelli said. "We have to replace, 'I'm a loser.' "

Such cognitive behavioral therapy has become the predominant treatment for offenders in the United States and Europe, according to the National Institute of Corrections, a resource agency within the U.S. Department of Justice. Research shows that professional cognitive treatment can reduce recidivism by 25 to 35 percent, which means saving taxpayers money on incarceration.

The Suffolk program is still working out the kinks. Ansanelli had to remove four men this week and return them to the general jail population for what she termed "infecting the group with their negative thinking." Their spots will be filled quickly. The demand for treatment among the 1,270-person jail population is high. Some want to get well; others simply want to impress a judge and win an early release.

This program can't promise to turn out solid members of society, but it's better than what we've had in the past.

First published in Newsday. Anne Michaud is the Interactive Opinion Editor for Newsday.