They say that time is money, but if that’s true then mine doesn’t seem to be worth that much.
I have three degrees, and two jobs where they don’t matter. In the little time I have to myself I do freelance work, and still struggle to make ends meet. A struggle felt by many, but especially by those of us laboring under the restrictions of parole and the sex offender registry.
I earned my degrees in prison. I was arrested at 19 while doing survival sex work, and prosecutors used my trans identity and the fact that I was using drugs at that time to escalate the charges. I spent 13 years incarcerated before my release in 2023. The irony is that now, I think back on sex work as something that represents financial stability.
After spending essentially my whole adult life in prison, the very last thing I want is to do anything that risks being sent back. Sex work would certainly be a violation of my parole. But so would not being able to keep up with the hundreds of dollars per month it costs to be on the registry, on top of the usual expenses like rent and medical debt. Mandatory polygraphs and weekly rehabilitation classes are just a few of the expenses.
So there’s a Catch-22. In order to not break the law, I need income that’s sufficiently above minimum wage and that doesn’t involve background checks or 1,000-foot distance restrictions. But the options that fit that description are not legal.
They said I was perfect for the job and would be reaching out shortly about my start date—just as soon as they ran a standard background check.
I’ve applied, and interviewed for, dozens of jobs where my past ultimately outweighed my qualifications. For example, I did two interviews and passed a data specialist exam to work for a nonprofit where I’d focus my time and energy on increasing turnout among Black voters. I would have made $19 an hour with benefits and the potential to increase to $24 an hour. Eventually I was told that my record disqualified me for the position.
The hiring manager at a plastics company told me I seemed perfect for their bilingual area supervisor position. I’d have made $22 an hour with benefits and the potential for $28 an hour. They loved my enthusiasm, they’d be reaching out shortly about my start date, they just had to do some standard background check stuff first. Figuring it was best to be proactive, I explained my criminal-legal history and gave a little speech about how I’ve come a long way. They were polite and said hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem. After a week with no news, I called them to learn the legal department had put a hold on my hire and they’d ended up going with someone else.
So Monday through Friday, from 7 am to 5:30 pm, I’m a quality control team leader for an auto parts manufacturer. I make $16 an hour through a contractor. I could make $20 an hour if the auto company brought me on as staff, which the contractor has implied won’t happen because of my record. On the weekends, I work anywhere between four and eight hours doing events for a window company, which is also $16 an hour, plus commission. That entire second job might go toward registry fees, if it’s one of the months when I’m required to take a polygraph.
If I was arrested for solicitation, I would be automatically held without bail because I’m on parole.
Even with just a handful of appointments per week, sex work would bring a dramatic increase to my financial stability. I could save for the future, rather than just survive. But the system is set up so that the same people pushed toward sex work are the people punished more severely for it than everyone else.
If I were arrested on misdemeanor solicitation charges, I would automatically be held without bail because I’m on parole through 2025. My parole officer would likely visit me in jail, once, after a few weeks or maybe months. Any contact with law enforcement is grounds for revocation of parole, but especially a new charge. So once the case was resolved, regardless of whether or not I was convicted, I’d be shipped back to the Georgia Department of Corrections to continue serving the sentence I got for doing sex work when I was 19. None of the time I saw in county jail would count.
Additionally, as someone on the sex offender registry, especially considering that my conviction was related to sex work, I would be classified as a recidivist under state law—like I’d “relapsed” into the illegal behavior as before.
I’m well aware of the physical and legal risks of sex work, and I have every intention of continuing to stay out of prison by legal means only. But it’s hard not to yearn for independence, and a little of my personal time being restored. As it is I can’t afford my freedom, let alone enjoy it.
Image via Court News Ohio