The quiet, tree-lined streets of Palmyra, New York, looked like the picture-perfect place to raise a family. It was an upper-middle-class small town where neighbors left their front doors unlocked. Outside the house, Chad was an energetic, athletic kid who loved playing every sport available. But behind closed doors, reality looked entirely different for him.
Inside his home, Chad faced severe physical and emotional abuse along with his siblings. His parents remained deeply distant, and while they never missed his sports games, the house itself felt like a war zone. Along with these challenges, Chad navigated childhood with ADHD and brain damage from a young age. Instead of receiving the love and care from a parent that a child deserved, he was often treated as if he were simply broken.
"I was searching for love and acceptance," Chad recalls. "I never got that in my household."
When his grandfather, the one person he admired and spent the most time with, passed away when Chad was just 11 years old, he was left without any positive guidance. By the time he reached his teenage years, Chad was completely on his own to guide himself.
Navigating a System Built for Adults
In 1990, Chad entered juvenile detention at age 14. He was terrified by the aggressive environment and the harsh way the adults spoke to them. By 1996, he was transferred to an adult correctional facility. Entering the adult justice system as a young adult is an overwhelming, isolating experience. For Chad, the biggest hurdle wasn’t just growing up—it was trying to maintain his humanity in a place not designed to nurture it. "Navigating a penal system designed to oppress and degrade you was the biggest challenge," Chad says.
To survive the next 35 years, Chad focused entirely on staying positive and keeping his sense of self alive. He read constantly, using books as a source of escape and solitude. He also made a conscious choice to seek out and surround himself with people focused on self-improvement and positive change.
Returning to a New Planet
When Chad went into the system, payphones, pagers, and paper maps were the norm. When he was released more than three decades later, he stepped into a world dominated by smartphones, AI, and constant digital connection. Because Chad had taken college courses and used computers while incarcerated, the technology itself wasn't what shocked him. It was how that technology had altered human behavior.
"The culture shock was seeing how people are so attached to their phones," Chad explains. "Some don't know how to have a conversation without a keyboard in front of them. People won't look you in the eye."
Those first few days of freedom brought a wave of conflicting emotions—he felt incredibly happy but deeply scared. Because of his family circumstances, he walked out those doors entirely alone. With no family to pick him up and no stable housing lined up, he was dropped off in Buffalo, New York, to figure out his next steps by himself.
Determined to build a stable life, Chad’s parole officer told him about the Center for Employment Opportunities (CEO). He attended a local job fair in Buffalo, where CEO was present as a vendor, and soon joined the program for transitional employment and career coaching. He brought plenty of hands-on experience from his time in prison, including inventory management, Excel, and computer operations. What he lacked, however, was a formal job history that a traditional resume required.
Even with skills and a strong desire to work, the job search proved incredibly frustrating. Time and again, Chad ran into the barrier of standard background checks.
"I’ll get offered jobs on the spot at major home improvement stores, grocery chains, and large retail corporations," Chad says. "But they’d take back the offer after the background check."
Despite the constant setbacks, Chad keeps moving forward. He continues to apply for roles across the city, including a recent application at a fast-food chain restaurant, refusing to let automated rejection letters stall his progress.
Accountability and Real Opportunity
Looking back on his journey, Chad believes deeply in accountability, but he strongly advocates for a system that recognizes a person's capacity to grow. "Youth, and juveniles in particular, should be held accountable for their past, but it shouldn’t define the rest of their lives," Chad says. "The way the prison system is designed, it's ruining kids' lives who just made that one bad decision. There has to be something that can be done."
For young people currently in the system who feel their lives have ended before they’ve truly begun, Chad offers a hard-earned truth. "Your circumstances aren’t defined by your journey. If you truly want to change, it can be done. It's not going to be easy. It may be uncomfortable, but you can do it."
Chad’s story highlights a critical reality for thousands of individuals navigating reentry: true safety and community stability don't come from permanent exclusion. They come from ensuring that people who have served their time are given fair chances to work, support themselves, and build a meaningful future.
