I first heard about Beyond the Bars through a friend. He told me about their work helping people with criminal records, and he said, “Man, you got the experience. You know, you can talk to people. You’ve been there.” And now, that’s exactly what I do.
I’ve always felt like I had a calling to help others. Back in church, I was part of a group, and we did outreach, inviting people in and supporting our community. I remember, years ago, I was in a program through Miami-Dade that offered classes. A counselor asked me what I wanted to do, and I told him, “I want to do what you do. I want to help people.”
He looked at me and said, “No, you can’t do that because of your record.” That crushed me. It threw me off course. But now, through Beyond the Bars, I’m doing exactly what I was told I couldn’t do—helping people navigate the same struggles I faced.
I’ve been out canvassing, knocking on doors, talking to people about their experiences with wage theft and underpayment. It’s powerful to hear people open up, to see them realize they’re not alone.
I’ve been out canvassing, knocking on doors, talking to people about their experiences with wage theft and underpayment. It’s powerful to hear people open up, to see them realize they’re not alone. We met a man who told us, “It’s not just Black people; it’s Latinos, it’s Mexicans. We’re all in this together.” That kind of solidarity keeps me going.
I’ve had many jobs in my life, always finding a way to work despite my record. But many of those jobs were minimum wage, with no benefits, no retirement. My mother always told me, “You need a job with benefits,” and now I see what she meant. People coming out of prison need interview skills, need to know their rights. That’s what we’re trying to do—educate and empower.
One of the most meaningful moments for me was when a guy from Beyond the Bars started calling me just to check in. “Hey man, how you doing? Have a good day.” That small act meant the world to me. Not many people do that. It made me feel seen, like I mattered. I told him in a meeting, “Freddie, you’re the reason I’m here.” I almost broke down in front of everyone because it was true.
Now, I’m all in. We’re knocking on doors, finding people who’ve been affected, and bringing them into the movement. Because the truth is, a lot of us don’t know our rights. We don’t know the laws that could protect us. And if we don’t know, we can’t fight back. But together, we can change that. We can educate each other, stand up for fair pay, and make sure no one gets left behind.
I was told I couldn’t do this work. But here I am, doing it. And I’m just getting started.
