“Think of expungements as the justice system’s great equalizer. They let someone like me put the past behind them after they have paid their debt to society.”

By Derek Liggins, Formerly Incarcerated Baltimore Resident

I am not the man you might read that I am on Maryland’s public database of criminal charges and convictions. Or, at least, I no longer am—but I might as well be to an employer.

It’s been 16 years since I walked out of prison. But the state’s case search database is locked in time, telling the story of a troubled young man from West Baltimore who used and dealt drugs and got caught. I spent years behind the wall. Now, I run multimillion-dollar projects as a foreman for Mechanical Engineering & Construction Corp., which works on sports complexes, defense contracts and medical facilities throughout the Mid-Atlantic.

I was once invited to sit at the table with former President Barack Obama for a conversation about economic stability for fathers, families and their children, during his visit to West Baltimore’s Center for Urban Families, the place I credit with giving me the tools to change my life. Ironically, though the Secret Service vetted and cleared me to join the president, state and federal laws prevent me from working on specific job sites based on my criminal record, which is older than many high school students.

In June, Maryland Gov. Wes Moore (D) gave us an opening to build on his historic action to pardon 175,000 marijuana convictions. So many times in this country, we have stopped short of reaching criminal legal reform, which can release the potential and prosperity of underserved communities. We back off instead of leaning in.

Now is the time for our Maryland lawmakers to follow the governor’s lead and take progressive action to reverse some of the lasting harm of the government’s failed war on drugs and the persistent mass incarceration of Black men like me.

I am calling on our legislative leaders to advance critical expungement reforms backed by the Maryland Legislative Black Caucus, the Center for Urban Families and the Maryland Expungement Coalition.

Here’s a starting point for that work: A whopping 93 percent of charges in Maryland are not eligible for expungement, the act of removing an arrest or conviction from a person’s publicly available criminal record. We can fix this with just a few commonsense actions.

First, our state ought to overturn a punitive court ruling that says a probation violation—for any reason—indefinitely disqualifies a person from receiving an expungement on a conviction. A failed drug test or missed appointment permanently blocks you from obtaining an expungement even decades after you’ve served your time.

Maryland should also empower judges to extend “good cause” expungements to misdemeanors or felonies as the court sees fit. We have already given courts this ability in some instances.

Another significant barrier to returning citizens’ fresh start is the state’s software. Thanks to the “unit rule,” if someone is charged with multiple offenses at once and is found innocent of all but one, and that one charge is not eligible for expungement, then none of those charges are eligible for expungement. There are a few exceptions, but you cannot get an expungement in this case, even if you were arrested for something no longer considered a crime. The main argument against fixing this is the state’s outdated technology—an excuse used for the last 20 years and counting.

Finally, Maryland should make expungements automatic for misdemeanors and felonies. Data show that less than 10 percent of people eligible for an expungement pursued one.

As I testified earlier this year in Annapolis, the state’s laws around expungement are the leading cause of the lack of growth in the Black community. My life is proof: I could earn another $20,000 a year if I could access expungements the state denies me, which would, in turn, prevent me from working on government contracts that my employer lands.

My boss, Richard E. Beattie, principal of Mechanical Engineering & Construction Corp., agrees, despite our very different backgrounds. He’s a Marine Corps veteran with combat service, and a white Republican from the suburbs. While he sees these reforms as logical updates that make good business sense, Rich and I also share a deep moral conviction that people deserve chances to better their lives.

Rich knows the value firsthand. Among Center for Urban Families members, he’s found untapped talent, hungry for opportunity and a chance to break free from failed policies that have caused intergenerational consequences. MEC2 has hired me and 25 other graduates of the center’s intensive programs, leading to economic freedom, home ownership and strong family bonds.

Think of expungements as the justice system’s great equalizer. They let someone like me put the past behind them after they have paid their debt to society as we turn to grasp a future that’s promised but still out of reach.

Derek Liggins is a formerly incarcerated Baltimore resident who now works as a foreman for Mechanical Engineering & Construction Corp.

This story was first published by Maryland Matters.

Illinois Supreme Court Says Police Can’t Use Smell Of Burnt Marijuana To Justify Vehicle Searches

Marijuana Moment is made possible with support from readers. If you rely on our cannabis advocacy journalism to stay informed, please consider a monthly Patreon pledge.

 “Think of expungements as the justice system’s great equalizer. They let someone like me put the past behind them after they have paid their debt to society.” By Derek Liggins, Formerly Incarcerated Baltimore Resident I am not the man you might read that I am on Maryland’s public database of criminal charges and convictions. Or,  Read More  

By

Leave a Reply