Theresa is a single mother of two elementary-school-aged children. She is 28 years of age and has earned her G.E.D. The children’s father has not paid child support for more than five years and lives out of state. In fact, he’s had no contact with Theresa or the kids for the past six years. Other than Theresa’s name, this is a true account and an example of the long-term and devastating effects that a conviction sets into motion.
Theresa receives public assistance, including food stamps and TANF (Temp-orary Assistance for Needy Families). Her benefits total $870 per month. Four years ago, when her children started school, Theresa secured a part-time job that paid $7 an hour. She worked an average of 15 hours per week, netting an average of $300 per month.
This job helped her make ends meet. She was able to buy her children a pair of shoes at the beginning of the school year, purchase occasional healthier fresh food and pay the liability insurance on her 12-year-old car. Just as importantly, this job provided Theresa a sense of accomplishment — she was actively engaged in the workforce, felt a sense of purpose and was better able to provide for her family. Because she could not afford daycare or an after-school program, she could not increase her hours.
Theresa was regarded as a good employee for the 2½ years she worked. Then she was charged with theft in the first degree-welfare fraud. Theresa had failed to report her job earnings to the State. She made enough money in her part-time work to reduce the benefits she continued to receive.
Although Theresa had never been involved in the criminal justice system and was embarrassed that she now faced a felony charge, she did not realize the extent to which non-reporting would jeopardize her children. Theresa offered no defense to the charge and eventually entered a guilty plea. While she did not receive any jail time, the consequences of her conviction severely impacted her and her children’s lives.
As a condition of her sentence, Theresa was placed on probation for two years. Her probation officer required that she inform her employer of her conviction. Theresa’s job was as a cashier at a small convenience store. Her offense is considered a crime of dishonesty and her employer immediately terminated her employment.
Furthermore, Theresa was ordered to pay restitution of $6,000 for the excess benefits she received. She also was ordered to pay a $500 victim penalty assessment and probation costs. Theresa lost her TANF grant for the duration of her probation. In short, she had no way of providing for her children or satisfying her legal financial obligations.
Because she had no income from which to pay fines, she fell out of compliance with her probation; she was evicted from her small, low-cost apartment because the TANF grant helped cover her rent. She has become a frequent visitor of soup kitchens and local food banks in order to feed her children and herself. Finally, she sold her car for $400, using that money to pay her telephone, electric and heating bills.
Most people are aware of the civil rights lost as a result of a felony conviction — the right to vote, the right to possess or own a firearm, and the right to serve on a jury. These are constitutionally protected rights and a felony conviction results in the loss of the privilege to exercise these rights. These rights can be reinstated once a person has satisfied all the terms of his or her sentence and has lived in the community without any additional criminal convictions for a period of time.
Less known are the collateral, yet very real consequences. Nearly every encounter with the justice system results in costs to the defendant. While some may argue that it’s only fair that defendants rather than taxpayers pay these costs, the financial consequences of a conviction end up undermining Gideon v. Wainwright and imposing other tangible and intangible costs.
For example, people who cannot afford to pay for an attorney may be required to pay legal costs to offset the cost of an attorney. According to the American Bar Association, at least 15 states charge application fees to people seeking court-appointed attorneys. King County charges a $25 application and screening fee for assignment of a public defender. In addition, Washington has one of the longest lists of fees, assessed at sentencing, of any state nationwide. In Theresa’s case, she was required to pay the victim penalty assessment, even though there was no identifiable victim.
Washington also is aggressive in pursuing collection of legal financial obligations, sending out some 79,000 bills every month. Comparatively, the State collected about $25 million in 2005 on $1.2 billion owed for such obligations. Many of these debts are referred to collection agencies that charge as much as 12% interest. The result is that those who were already on the verge of living in destitution cannot gain a toehold to dig themselves out of financial ruin.
The loss of public benefits makes matters more problematic. In Theresa’s case, the court was required to terminate her TANF grant for a minimum of six months. But the original purpose of the grant was to provide for Theresa’s children and they are the ones who ultimately suffer for its loss.
While Theresa’s case illustrates the financial implications of a felony conviction, just as devastating are other collateral consequences. In other examples, such as drug offenses, a lifetime ban on public benefits such as TANF, food stamps and SSI may occur. Eligibility for federal higher education loans, grants and work study participation may be impacted. Public housing likely will be lost if a family member is convicted of a drug offense, even if the offense took place somewhere other than the family home.
Driving privileges are suspended for a variety of offenses, often affecting a person’s ability to get to and from work or school. Felony and misdemeanor convictions can cause problems for immigrants and many avenues of employment are closed off as a direct result of a conviction.
Often, people think of the criminal justice system as being a system of rehabilitation, with the goal of helping individuals, and a venue for society to address problems so that individuals can become contributing members of their communities. Judges, prosecutors and defenders often say that they do the work they do to help others, to make a difference in the community, to empower people to change their lives. The reality is that our system has become one that creates barriers in the way of costs and consequences.
As a result, the goals of empowerment, rehabilitation and integration into the community are not being met. Instead, hope is lost, frustration is bred and people like Theresa begin to wonder if their debt to society can ever be paid.
Anne Daly is the director of Society of Counsel Representing Accused Persons, a public defense firm in King County. She is the past president of the Washington Defender Association and a trustee of the King County Bar Association.
Go Back