The above quote from Lucinda, a formerly incarcerated woman of color, suggests that resilience is necessary for women of color to survive the metaphorical jungle of postincarceration barriers—especially, as double minorities. Fighting one’s way through a jungle, however, implies that there is some expectation of freedom beyond its perimeters. Yet, reentering society postincarceration may not necessarily lead to this sense of freedom, given the social-structural context that continues to dehumanize women of color. Situated within Black feminist theory, this article explores how women of color fight through this metaphorical jungle of postincarceration circumstances. It begins with a review of various power structures in employment, housing, and interactions with social practitioners and law enforcement, and how these power structures are built to destabilize women of color. Then, findings are presented from interviews with formerly incarcerated women of color on how they remain resilient and empower others as they overcome inequities across various socio-structural forces.

“You just gotta have your guards up; be ready, roll your sleeves up, put the boxing gloves on, and fight your way through the jungle because we’re being released [from prison] to a jungle.”

As the backbone of these villages, women of color are expected to be strong for their families and their communities to fulfill their role of communal reassurance during difficult punitive times. Yet, women of color are also ensnared in the criminal justice system—a direct result of systematic oppression and efforts to survive intersectional marginalization. Still, less is known about how they, as a double minority, battle against power structures to overcome the punitive carceral system imposed upon them as women of color. Using qualitative research, this article examines how formerly incarcerated women of color challenge the jungle of postincarceration circumstances and remain resilient within the state of prisoner reentry.

The West African proverb “it takes a village to raise a child” resonates in the Black community because, in many ways, members of the Black community must work together to remain resilient amid oppressive regimes ( Cauce et al., 1996 ; Palmer & Gasman, 2008 ). Women of color often function as the backbone of these villages. For instance, they engage in “motherwork” in which they not only care for their own children, but they also nurture and provide for other nonbiological children in their communities ( Collins, 1994 ; Gurusami, 2019 ; O’Reilly, 2014 ). Through motherwork, women of color reinforce the collective value within the next generations, providing them with loving engagement and empowering them to remain resilient through discrimination, criminalization, racial and ethnic profiling, and overall systematic oppression ( Collins, 1994 ; O’Reilly, 2014 ). Women of color have also been instrumental in empowering their networks to fight against unequal and unjust punishments and to advocate for social equality for marginalized groups (see Battle, 2016 ). In fact, women of color have been instrumental in the Black Lives Matter movement that has encouraged society to demand justice for people of color. As demonstrated above, the models of women of color in their communities have embodied the Black Lives Matter guiding principles that include, but are not limited to, empowerment through strengths in Black villages, collective value, loving engagement, and affirming Black women (see BlackLivesMatter.com ).

Women of color are systematically oppressed across various domains—and then further penalized for these conditions once they are drawn into carceral systems. Although the intersectionality of gender and racial-ethnic background is particularly vulnerable to systematic oppression, women of color remain resilient to racialized and patriarchal power structures. Critically, this resilience has allowed them to empower others.

In addition to their sexual objectification, women of color are presumed to be loud-mouthed, uncooperative, in the wrong, and therefore undeserving of the very police protection that is afforded to White women ( Ritchie, 2017 ; Sharma, 2003 ). The prevalence and impact of police misconduct and police violence has received increasing media attention through the Black Lives Matter movement, which has called for reforms in the treatment and punishment of people of color. Yet, women of color have remained largely invisible in this national dialogue. The ensuing Say Her Name movement has highlighted the reality that women of color are also subject to fatal shootings, to being beaten, and to being placed in chokeholds by agents of law enforcement—even during visible pregnancy ( Battle, 2016 ; Crenshaw, Ritchie, Anspach, Gilmer, & Harris, 2015 ; Ritchie, 2017 ). Even when they are not killed during arrests or under police custody, women of color remain disproportionately criminalized and presumed guilty, contributing to their exposure in the criminal justice system and the hyper-surveillance that continues postincarceration.

The manner in which law enforcement approaches and interacts with women of color is shaped by the intersection of gender and racial-ethnic power dynamics. Historically, slave owners, movies, artworks, and medical literature have portrayed women of color as exotic, promiscuous, sexualized objects—the “jezebels” ( Gilman, 1985 ; White, 1999 ). Such depictions have been used to justify the rape of Black women as consensual “sexual relations” when, in reality, their sexual abuse is another form of oppression embedded within power dynamics ( Battle, 2016 ; Potter, 2008 ; Richie, 2012 ; Wesely & Miller, 2018 ; White, 1999 ). These “jezebel” stereotypes of women of color continue to exist. Women of color are still portrayed as sexually available and promiscuous objects to be victimized, with this sexual objectification shaping the use of power to manipulate and exploit them. Even police officers and correctional officers are perpetrators of such sexual assault of women of color, including police officers who conduct inappropriate strip searches and correctional officers who use coercive tactics to sexually violate these women ( Richie, 2012 ; Ritchie, 2017 ). As Sherri Sharma (2003) argues, “The construction of black women as highly sexual and, in our culture therefore ‘bad,’ results in their less than adequate protection under the law” (p. 290).

Their exposure to social-structural barriers as women of color is exacerbated by periods of incarceration, particularly when trying to regain or maintain custody of their children postincarceration. Women of color are subject to being stripped of their custodial rights before and during incarceration, with extreme challenges to overcome the overlap between carceral systems and Child Protective Services ( Garcia-Hallett, 2017 ; Gurusami, 2019 ). Upon their release from incarceration, they often find it difficult to overcome the impact of carceral systems while under state supervision ( Garcia-Hallett, 2017 ; Gurusami, 2019 ). They must then prove themselves as “fit” mothers according to social standards of motherhood that do not regard women of color or their survival mechanisms as representative of “true motherhood” ( Dodge & Pogrebin, 2001 ; Garcia-Hallett, 2016 ; Haney, 2010 ). All things considered, they are marginalized across various domains that interact to systematically oppress them as women of color.

Discretion and discrimination in housing decisions is particularly problematic for women of color given their heightened exposure to social-structural barriers that impose on financial circumstances. For instance, even when housed, there are also challenges to meeting housing costs. Whether renting or owning, people of color are disproportionately burdened by housing costs compared with their White counterparts given that they are more likely to spend more than 50% of their total income on housing costs ( Ault, Sturtevant, & Viveiros, 2015 ). This disparity in housing cost burden is largely attributable to differences in socioeconomic class and the gap in household income, with this group earning less income than Whites ( Ault et al., 2015 ; Burnham, 2001 ). Although there are housing cost burdens prior to incarceration, this cost burden likely exacerbates after incarceration (see Correctional Association of New York, 2013 ; Nerney et al., 2011 ). Research demonstrates that formerly incarcerated women of color are often fraught with unemployment and, if employed, they receive low and unstable income ( Garcia-Hallett, 2017 ). Difficulties in finding and sustaining employment postincarceration introduces financial disadvantages that may disproportionately impact women of color and their ability to obtain and sustain housing after their release ( Lipsitz, 2011 ).

At the intersection of gender and racial-ethnic background, housing insecurity is especially burdensome for women of color, as social-structural obstacles may dismiss them from housing opportunities otherwise available to others. Despite shared marginalization along gender, women of color remain more economically marginalized than their White female counterparts, hindering their generational wealth, the available opportunities to accrue assets over time, and their ability to sustain housing in a society that evokes White privilege ( Lipsitz, 2011 ). Women of color also experience a heightened sense of marginalization as a result of detrimental institutional responses to their racial-ethnic background. As people of color, they have been forced into racially and economically segregated communities and exiled to the margins of society ( Lipsitz, 2011 ). This geographic marginalization is then used to justify hyper-surveillance of racial-ethnic communities and to further oppress women of color from economic and social resources ( Garcia-Hallett et al., 2019 ; Jefferson, 2018 ; Lipsitz, 2011 ). Thus, this hyper-surveillance functions as a gendered and racialized criminalization of poverty and increases the chances that women of color are caught within the grips of the criminal justice system.

Women of color are forced to survive a racialized “feminization of poverty” that can surface as financially motivated offending behaviors like fraud, theft, and burglary ( Carlen, 1988 ; Garcia-Hallett, 2019 ). However, the intersectionality of gendered and racial-ethnic disparities in employment are further shaped by the presence of a criminal record, which introduces stereotypes about work ethic and assumptions about people skills, communication skills, and the ability to adapt to diverse work environments ( Giguere & Dundes, 2002 ; Graffam, Shinkfield, & Hardcastle, 2008 ). When formerly incarcerated, women’s likelihood of continuing to the hiring process decreases by 19% in online communication and by 24% with in-person communication ( Ortiz, 2014 ). Yet, Ortiz’s (2014) research also found that “White women with a prison record are more likely to receive a favorable response from employers than Black or Hispanic women” (p. 116). This research demonstrates that women of color in the criminal justice system remain further disadvantaged regarding employment prospects compared with similarly situated males of color and White females. Overall, women of color are hindered by perceptions of them as physically and emotionally weak relative to male peers and presumptions of unreliability as racial-ethnic minorities. Then, criminal convictions ensure that they are generally treated as “damaged goods” in the workforce.

Patriarchal and racialized hierarchies in employment situate women of color at the lowest rung of the totem pole. Women receive fewer employment “rewards” than their male counterparts with equal qualifications, resulting in a diminished likelihood of being hired, and, if hired, lower pay and lower chances of promotion ( Browne, 2000 ; England & Browne, 1992 ; Reskin, 1993 ; Roscigno & Bobbitt-Zeher, 2007 ). Gender disparities in employment may be attributable to gendered socialization and informal job search methods ( Drentea, 1998 ), as well as social presumptions that women are physically and psychologically weaker than men and, thus, fitting for particular jobs ( Bergmann, 2005 ). Such gender disparities, however, contribute to a “feminization of poverty” ( Carlen, 1988 ) in which women are disproportionately economically marginalized compared with men.

The formerly incarcerated women of color were provided with a series of questions about their lives before, during, and after incarceration. Other questions inquired about personal experiences and treatment associated with their ethnic background. During these discussions, they were probed about potential differences and similarities with others of different racial-ethnic backgrounds. The study participants were asked to provide suggestions or words of encouragement for other women of their background who were anticipating release or who were recently released. NVivo software was used for data organization and data analysis, using grounded theory techniques (see Charmaz, 2006 ). Each interview underwent line-by-line coding that allowed preliminary themes to emerge inductively and data-grounded theory to develop ( Charmaz, 2006 ). Specifically, this article focuses on the women’s narratives about postincarceration obstacles, with special attention to the intersectionality of gender and race, and how the women withstood these inequalities.

Most of the formerly incarcerated women of color identified as African American ( N = 21), followed by Hispanic ( N = 15) and West Indian ( N = 8), with one participant who could not specify an ethnic identification but considered herself Black. These numbers demonstrate an overlap in ethnic representation across the 37 participants, given that some identified with multiple ethnicities. The average age was 43 years old, ranging from 24 to 63. Given the focus of the larger study on maternal experiences postincarceration, all of the women were mothers. On average, the mothers had two or three children, and the average age of their children was about 19 years old. The women were most frequently incarcerated for drug crimes (i.e., possession and sale) and money crimes (e.g., identity theft, shoplifting, burglary, and robbery), common among women offenders ( McCorkel, 2013 ; Reiman & Leighton, 2017 ). The prevalence of monetary crimes is largely attributed to their systematic oppression as a marginalized group with lasting social expectations, while their drug crimes often represent adoptive coping mechanisms to life’s challenges or negative relationships ( Garcia-Hallett, 2019 ). At the time of the interview, the women had various obstacles postincarceration: 68% were unemployed (not including unpaid internships), 78% were living in transitional housing, with family, in shelters or on the street, and half of the mothers with minor children did not have custody.

Beginning in 2014, semi-structured interviews were conducted over a span of 1 year. A total of 37 formerly incarcerated women of color were interviewed for this study. The interviews lasted for 1.5 hr on average and were conducted at locations suggested by the participants—local restaurants, their homes (including shelters), and affiliated programs or schools. With the exception of two women who opted out of an audio recording and whose narratives were electronically transcribed, all other interviews were audio taped and subsequently transcribed. Each participant was compensated with one of four options, including US$ 25 gift cards or a US$25 metro card. The respondents in the interviews were then assigned a pseudonym.

Data collection took place in New York City, which has a significant African American population and is also a U.S. landing place for individuals of Hispanic and West Indian background ( Kent, 2007 ; Sutton, 1987 ). The findings are from a larger study that purposefully sampled formerly incarcerated women of color, who identified with one or more of the following racial-ethnic minority groups: African American, Hispanic, and West Indian. Recruitment did not include parole or probation personnel, as this can deter participant involvement and dilute the narratives of those from such a sample. Instead, formerly incarcerated women of color were recruited through short presentations and posted flyers at local programs, coalition meetings and events, public venues, as well as word of mouth.

Overall, the formerly incarcerated women of color speculated that carceral systems are intentionally designed to prolong their systematic oppression. The collateral consequences from mere arrests, criminal convictions, periods of incarceration, and prisoner reentry into the community all seemingly functioned to impede them from overcoming intersectional marginalization. Despite the sentiment that “the system is set up for me to fail,” the women, nevertheless, displayed a sense of resilience and served as a source of empowerment for other women of color.

Kerry-Ann believed that women of color were penalized for speaking out about the injustices they experienced in the criminal justice system, while White women were rewarded for speaking about criminal justice issues while undergoing incarceration as outsiders to the typical image of inmates. As Priscilla expressed, “I think that white women are less stigmatized than we are; for some reason or another, they got so many other privileges in this society that we don’t have.” These views are consistent with research demonstrating that, in general, White women are afforded a hierarchical positionality in various structural domains due to their White privilege, and they remain relatively protected from, within, and beyond carceral systems (e.g., the odds of incarceration, punitive punishments, and collateral consequences) ( Crenshaw, 2012 ; Lipsitz, 2011 ; McCorkel, 2013 ; Ortiz, 2014 ; Roscigno et al., 2009 ; Sharma, 2003 ).

Probably she had all the connections and the resources. Fine. No black person would’ve got away with that. None. And I’m quite sure of it. Black and a kid?—even worse. The fact that she was able to come home and capitalize not only off of her experience ‘cause she was only there for a short time. . . . But, she got to come home and capitalize off of that experience and everybody else’s experiences. And nothing happened to her and she will never get punished for it, but we will.

Furthermore, the study participants believed that as women of color, they were not afforded the benefits of White privilege, making their postincarceration experiences “definitely” different from those who did benefit from their social status. Kerry-Ann spoke about the popular Netflix series Orange Is the New Black , which is based on a memoir written by Piper Kerman, a White woman who spent 1 year in a women’s prison. Four months before I interviewed Kerry-Ann, Piper Kerman received the Justice Trailblazer Award from John Jay College. Kerry-Ann referred to Piper Kerman as one notable example of the disproportionate accolades afforded to White women, given that she received recognition from a prestigious university and was honored at an awards dinner with the University president. Laughing, Kerry-Ann proclaimed, “[the University president] ain’t doing that for me. He no saying, ‘Here!’” She noted that White women, in general, were able to capitalize from incarceration in a way that women of color did not:

Coinciding with the intersectional marginalization they experienced as women of color, the women believed carceral systems functioned differently for their White female counterparts. In Kerry-Ann’s experience, carceral systems exhibited a “microcosm” of racism that echoed the larger U.S. context. Like other women of color, Kerry-Ann had multiple encounters with racism, but she also explained that this treatment continued during her incarceration: “I really experienced racism, but then it played out in prison. It was a microcosm of it—day in and day out.” Although it is unclear from her account if this treatment was precipitated by correctional personnel, other incarcerated individuals or both, it is evident that prison walls are not impervious to the racism that marginalized groups experience in the broader racialized society.

The employment difficulties and residential instability was particularly problematic for those women trying to regain custody of minor children. To regain custody, they needed to prove themselves “fit” as mothers. Yes, this assessment required them to have, among other things, a stable income and suitable housing, a package that was difficult to obtain as formerly incarcerated women of color. Thus, along with the hurdles they encountered with postincarceration employment and housing, they were further hindered by the overlap between the criminal justice system and Child Protective Services that functioned as another power structure to punish women of color for the structural disadvantages imposed upon them.

These narratives illustrate the interviewees’ beliefs that they were not only ensnared into the criminal justice system through social-structural disparities but kept within punitive carceral systems through hyper-surveillance in the postincarceration communities of reentry.

The whole . . . legal system is meant to really degrade you. The handcuffs, sitting in the cop car, windows aren’t tinted, everybody walking- passing by could see you in there. . . . “You’re a fucking criminal, let me humiliate you.” . . . “Let me show you why you shouldn’t break the law.”

As with Emily, the majority of the women ( N = 33; 89%) lived in New York City neighborhoods where the residential demographic was predominantly people of color. It was common for the women to describe a heightened exposure to law enforcement in their communities. For instance, as Wyndolyn noted in passing, “police is everywhere.” In addition to the police presence in their communities, there was also this perceived hyper-surveillance that instilled anxiety about the impact of potential police interactions, causing at least one woman to be “afraid to go outside.” According to Henrietta, “after you get arrested so many times, the police own you. They got you in their pocket.” As another study participant explained,

If you walking down the block, [police will say] “Let me get your ID.” “For what?” “Cause I want your ID.” I mean, they [the police] mess with you bad. . . .They know we are homeless, you know what I’m saying? So, right away they target you.

In addition to their marginalization as employment prospects postincarceration, the women of color also encountered difficulties with residential instability. About half of the study participants stayed in a homeless shelter at some point in their lives postincarceration. At the time of her interview, Emily was residing in a homeless shelter located in a predominantly minority neighborhood. She believed the shelter’s residents were targeted by the police:

Not only did they believe “felon-friendly” job opportunities typically included manual labor and were male-dominated, but they also noted vulnerabilities to sexual harassment in the workplace when they did find work. After her release, Makayla found a job working in the gourmet cheese department in a local supermarket. Even though she took a liking to her job, she was subjected to inappropriate behavior from her male superior: “he liked me and he used his position” to make advances toward her. For instance, Makayla described how he would occasionally “talk to me about why I should come to your house or why we should date.” She stated, “he was so inappropriate, it got annoying. I couldn’t take it anymore.” After dealing with the sexual harassment for approximately 1 year, she eventually left her job. This brings to light the study participants’ potential vulnerability to sexual harassment due to their social status, not only as women who are seen and treated as sexual objects ( Cortina & Berdahl, 2008 , p. 474) or as “criminals” who deserve to be punished ( Applegate, Cullen, & Fisher, 2002 ), but also as women of color who are deemed promiscuous and sexually available at others’ disposal ( Battle, 2016 ; Potter, 2008 ; Richie, 2012 ; White, 1999 ).

The study participants believed “finding employment with a felony is the hardest thing,” but women needed to work harder than men to compensate for their criminal convictions in the labor force. They noted that, in general, “people don’t give us that chance” of obtaining job opportunities with criminal convictions. However, the “felon-friendly” jobs that “don’t care about the felony,” in their experience, were also male-dominated because “they’re all labor jobs.” Thus, they described needing to devote more effort than men to find jobs postincarceration. These women believed that, as formerly incarcerated women, they had to “work the hardest” to offset the additional “strike” against them of competing with males in a patriarchal society.

Emma’s first and only encounter with the criminal justice system was at the age of 44. After a cast was recently removed, she decided to take a taxi approximately four blocks during bad weather. Her taxi driver agreed to a US$4 charge for the short trip, but at her destination, he did not return her change for the agreed amount. As a result of trying to take her change, Emma was ultimately convicted and incarcerated on charges of robbery, weapons possession, and attempted assault. Emma described her life after incarceration as being “challenging” as she was “dead in the water” in terms of her ability to survive financially. She was unemployed, with no income at the time of her interview. Her cell phone connection had been turned off because she was unable to pay her phone bill. She had laundry to do, but no money to wash her clothes in the laundromat. Her metro card was due to expire at midnight, restricting her from potential resources and opportunities beyond the local area of her supportive housing program. Emma explained that her financial difficulties were a result of “a lot of judgment. People judge you. . . . People don’t want to hire you because they think you gonna do something wrong. . . . And it’s on my record that I’m a robber and I’m not.” Emma believed that her punishment was severe for the reality of the situation, that her charges were not a representation of who she was as an individual or a potential employee, and that her criminal record ultimately restricted her from being able to support herself after her release.

Criminal charges further introduced judgment about their character and assumptions about their competency for job opportunities. As one woman shared, “a lot of people are judgmental . . . they always try to associate something negative [with] coming from jail.” Even after serving one’s sentences, there was this notion that the criminal charges “follow you for the rest of your life.”

The interviewed women held the notion of having “strikes” against them, not only as a marginalized group across both gender and racial-ethnic background, but more specifically as women of color who are involved in the criminal justice system. As Marie stated, “One, you’re a woman. . . . Two, I’m a black woman. And then, on top of that, I have compounded my situation by becoming a felon.” Similarly, another participant noted that as a woman of color, she “worked twice as hard before, [but] now I have to work four times as hard because [after incarceration] I had an extra stigma attached to me.” In fact, the women tackled the intersectionality of gender and racial-ethnic marginalization in various social-structural domains, which will briefly be discussed below.

Oppressive regimes impact women of color in many ways—some of which influence their criminalization and involvement in the criminal justice system—and these oppressive, punitive regimes are still prevalent postincarceration. The experience of systematic oppression of women of color in a racialized and patriarchal society that criminalizes them and entraps them in carceral systems contributed to respondents’ beliefs that “the system is set up for me to fail.” The following narratives from the study participants demonstrate the various “strikes” against them as women of color in a punitive state and how they visualized White privilege shaping disproportionate experiences for their White female counterparts.

Resilience and Empowering Other Women of Color

The study participants understood that being women and being persons of color were each “one strike against you,” but they also believed that “everybody has that will power,” so women of color could and should fight through the intersectional marginalization. The women expressed a sense of inevitable hurdles in their paths, sharing with others that, as a result, they had to be ready to jump over them. Bianca, for example, advised others to “remain strong and try to handle any obstacles as best as you can. ’Cause there will be a lot.” This notion of preparation was not only if they experienced obstacles or felt overwhelmed postincarceration, but when they did. For instance, Henrietta explained, “You have to be ready to [handle] all the obstacles, all the bumps, all the bruising you gonna get along the way, to get what you wanna get.” To reiterate the opening quotation for this article, Lucinda stated, “You just gotta have your guards up; be ready, roll your sleeves up, put the boxing gloves on, and fight your way through the jungle because we’re being released [from prison] to a jungle.”

Although women of color are released into a jungle of postincarceration obstacles, embedded in a racialized and patriarchal society, the study participants emphasized the importance of surviving these negative circumstances. As Rashida noted, it is “survival, like survival of cancer; you’re surviving! Give you more of the willpower to just move on and do what you have to do.” There was also a sense of impending downfall awaiting their release from incarceration if women of color did not prepare themselves for the realities of postincarceration life: “if you don’t have the right gear, come out wrapped in the full armor of God, you gon’ have problems. You gon’ have problems. And it’s a serious world out there.”

Given the array of social-structural obstacles in the lives of women of color after their incarceration, they described figuring out how to best overcome their marginalization and avoid being negatively affected by these obstacles—advising others to do the same. The following sections will demonstrate how the formerly incarcerated women of color prepared themselves and empowered others to remain resilient in the face of systematic oppression and the inevitable marginalization that continues after incarceration.

Perseverance Through Doubt and Strengthening Self-Confidence The study participants believed that, upon their release, it was imperative that they dealt with reservations from the general public—particularly, the qualms about them as individuals and the doubts about their ability to endure life circumstances. As Bianca cautioned, “there will be a lot of people that do give up on you.” Nonetheless, she believed it was important to “stay strong” and to “don’t give up” on yourself, even when experiencing cynicism from others. Another woman, Ana, expressed that some people “look down to a person that’s been arrested.” Even though finding employment was a “big challenge” for her after incarceration, she advised other women: “Don’t let no one tell you [that] you can’t have it, you know. Be positive. Positive energy goes out and comes back.” As a way of upholding a positive energy to navigate post-incarceration circumstances, Ana “tr[ies] to always think that . . . everything happens for a reason and make the best of it. . . . Don’t think of it being the glass half empty, think of it half full.” She appeared to view her state of unemployment as the glass half full in that she believed her unemployment afforded her the opportunity to spend more time with her children and see them “sleep at night,” which was the most pleasing moment for her since her release. Formerly incarcerated women of color must not only challenge doubt from others, but they believed doing so also strengthened their self-confidence. Given her difficulties finding employment after incarceration, Marie counsels other women that “you may get 90 ‘No’s’ and one ‘Maybe,’ but that one ‘Maybe’ will make you keep on going ‘til after a 100 more, and then you may get a ‘YES.’” She encourages them to continue combating the postincarceration obstacles saying, it’s gonna get tough but the harder you fight and the more you fight to do it right, you’ll get a better self-esteem, you’ll have a higher sense of integrity. . . . You walk around with your head a little higher. Even though she stressed the “compounded” impact of her incarceration on the employment difficulties for her as a woman of color, Marie remained confident that she would land a job (albeit entry-level) and she was certain she would be able to use it as a stepping stone for further progress: “I may have to start as a telemarketer. I may have to start at a Bed and Bath but, you know what? I’m not gonna stay there. I will not.” Similarly, Ana stressed, “if you want something, be determined. You gonna get it, that’s it.” “[R]eally make a goal for yourself,” Latoya advised, “then try to accomplish it, and then you’ll be so surprised of what you can do.” Thus, rather than internalizing the reservations imposed upon them from broader society and adopting self-doubt, the women advised others in similar predicaments to “be determined,” and to “remain strong” and “positive” about their own capabilities regardless of the oppression they face postincarceration.

Remaining Focused and Maintaining Patience To tackle obstacles and remain confident in their own perseverance, the study participants stressed this notion of remaining focused on the task at hand and maintaining their patience in the process. Vanessa noted that some may want to relax and “have fun” in the first moments outside of prison bars, but it is important to “come home and be focused.” These women believed it was important to evade negative environments from their pasts and to avoid being sidetracked by the collateral consequences of their incarceration. Common remarks were to “stay away from people, places, and things” and to “don’t go back to the past.” Instead, the women advised others to direct their attention to what they could do to either fix undesirable circumstances or to offset them. As Onika argued, “You can’t change yesterday; you can only work on today.” In describing this need to “stay focused,” the women also provided examples specific to their situations. Some concentrated on regaining custody of their children after they had been stripped of parental rights. For others, the goal was specific to finding employment. Others centered their attention on finding temporary shelter, if homeless, or on obtaining more permanent housing if they were in transitional housing or experienced some residential instability. It is important to note, however, that these focal areas typically overlap, as progress or setbacks in one domain affect the ability to address another. Although overlapping complications can be a source of frustration postincarceration, particularly within racialized and patriarchal marginalization, the study respondents stressed the need to “have patience” in overcoming these obstacles. As Regina advised, “Take it easy. Slow . . . Rome wasn’t built in a day.” The use of this particular phrase represents that it takes time to slowly build upward to a point of satisfaction and, thus, women of color should remain patient as they overcome hurdles postincarceration. “[W]hen it feels like everything is against you, keep busy,” Odessa stressed, “just don’t give up. Fuck it, keep busy.” Qiana’s advice to other women was, “don’t overwhelm yourself because once you do, that’s when things become out of control and they spiral.” Instead, she advised others “to take it one day at a time.” Similarly, others like Donna noted that it was important to “take it one step at a time. . . . And it will all work itself out.” These accounts of having patience with overcoming obstacles by remaining focused and taking it one day or one step at a time also coincided with the women’s narratives of having faith. One common remark was to “Pray and stay strong. . . . as long as you have strength and you pray, and you believe in God or you believe in your higher power, I believe anything is possible.” As Lucinda noted, it is important to stay on the path because the joy is in the journey. Stay on. You can get sidetracked here and there, but always get right back on your path because the joy is in the journey. Be still and know that He is God. These narratives illustrate that in conjunction with having faith in a higher power that will guide them in their journey, women of color must take practical actions in their own futures.