By Ashley Mahoney for the Charlotte Post with support from the Pulitzer Center.
Broadcast version by Nadia Ramlagan for North Carolina News Service, reporting for the Charlotte Post Media-Public News Service Collaboration

CHARLOTTE, N.C. -- Jail shattered Kristie Puckett-Williams' remaining sense of self-worth.

Drugs and alcohol had dulled the pain of domestic violence. Crime supported her habit, which landed Puckett-Williams in the Mecklenburg County Jail for "months," she said. Facing a cocaine trafficking charge in 2009, she took a plea deal to avoid giving birth in lockup, and twins Kade and Kaiden were born premature five days later. They spent 21 days in neonatal intensive care.

"It took a huge toll on my already fragile mental health state," Puckett-Williams said. "I entered into the system as a victim of severe domestic violence. None of the system's responses to that violence promoted any healing or transformation of that trauma. The only thing it ever did was exacerbate and compound that trauma."

Probation dominated much of Puckett-Williams' adult life, with the fear of returning to jail always hovering in the background. She participated in a mandatory 10-month treatment program as part of her plea deal, and the Department of Social Services required parenting classes in order to keep her children.

"I found myself out [of jail] with a whole lot of trauma," she said, "and a whole lot of lists of things to do in order to remain free, in order for my children to remain free. I had to focus on that list of things that I had to do."

UNC Charlotte social work professor Dante Bryant PhD describes the American criminal justice system as one designed to punish, not rehabilitate. Dehumanization of the incarcerated is a byproduct.

"Our local jail here, they've started all these different types of programs, to try to help facilitate [re-entry]," he said. "But the reality is that programs only emerge when there's a problem. A program always emerges in response to a deficiency. A criminal justice system that is designed for rehabilitation shouldn't need programs. It should be the program."

Puckett-Williams said sheer will to protect her family helped with navigating re-entry. In addition to the twins, she has an older son, Julian Aguilar, 20.

"I was determined that I was not going to allow the system to win," Puckett-Williams said. "I just made it up in my mind. They weren't getting my children. They weren't getting me."

Punishment and re-entry

Mecklenburg County's Criminal Justice Services department consists of two jails: Jail Central in Uptown and Jail North on Spector Drive. The average daily population for both facilities between January-March 2018 was 1,492, with 1,253 incarcerated at Jail Central, according to the county's latest Jail Population Trend Report.

Men made up 89% of incarcerated residents; girls and women comprised 8% and boys 3%. Black people accounted for 67% of incarcerated, followed by whites (21%) and Hispanics 11%. Sixty-four percent were held pretrial. A total of 4,927 people were released.

Mecklenburg County provides re-entry services to people returning from jails, state and federal prisons, many in collaboration with local programs such as Center for Community Transitions and City Startup Labs' ReEntry Entrepreneurship Program.

"We assess or screen for what all their needs and barriers are," county re-entry manager Hope Marshall said. "Then we have probably 100-plus partners that we can refer to help out with each of those barriers and challenges. [People at] the highest risk, highest needs, you don't want to send them to five different places all at once, you need to prioritize and kind of walk through [and] walk with them, to get all these services in places."

Wendy Sawyer, research director at the Northampton, Massachusetts-based Prison Policy Initiative, wrote in a 2019 report that re-entry programs have a gender gap that ignores the unique needs of women.

"A handful of programs have sprung up in communities around the country to meet the needs of women returning home: some founded by formerly incarcerated women themselves, some running on shoestring budgets for years, and all underscoring the need for greater capacity to meet the demand of over 81,000 releases from prison and 1.8 million releases from jail each year," Sawyer wrote. ... "While many people are released from jail within a day or so and may not need reentry support, jail releases can't be overlooked, especially for women, who are more likely than men to be incarcerated in jails as opposed to prisons."

Said Bryant: "If you want to know what a system is designed to do, look at what it produces consistently over time."

Indicting the system

Going to school was on Puckett-Williams' to-do list upon re-entry.

"When I went to Central Piedmont Community College, I found myself in a welcoming space with people who just wanted me to learn and to be the best version of myself that I could be," she said.

"As a result of being in that type of environment, I found myself in the human services program focusing on substance abuse. I learned so much about mental health and mental unwellness and wellbeing through the human service program, that I learned a lot about myself. What I learned at the end of the day was that the things that have happened to me and my behaviors, my 'criminality' was a response to trauma that had been unanswered."

Puckett-Williams took it upon herself to critique and investigate the system she was caught up in. She earned an associate's degree at CPCC, bachelor's in human services from Gardner-Webb University and a master's in addiction and recovery counseling from Liberty University.

Puckett-Williams feels called to fight for people who are still in the trenches of addiction, abusive relationships and incarceration.

"For me," she said, "it is about telling the truth, and in indicting a system that indicted me, that indicted my poverty, that indicted my trauma, and now I'm in guiding it, because instead of addressing my poverty, or my trauma, it only ... compounded those issues. The system did absolutely nothing to help.

"I had to heal before I could show up in the world as my true, authentic self. I knew the state's version of who I was, was not who I was. I had a duty to tell who I am, and not just who I am, but the value and the worth of people who have the same life experiences that I have, because society will say that we have no value, we have no worth, we have nothing to contribute. My existence in this world is a clapback to that."

Still fighting

Puckett-Williams is the statewide campaign for smart justice manager at the American Civil Liberties Union of North Carolina and a working scholar in mass incarceration who focuses on the treatment of women, including those who are pregnant.

She advocates for legislation like the North Carolina House Bill 608, Dignity for Women Who are Incarcerated. HB 608 was introduced in April and passed 113-0 in May.

"We know we have to legislate exactly what people need in order for it to happen," Puckett-Williams said. "That is how we approach our work. What do the people need? How will we get them what they need? Dignity for Women Who are Incarcerated is a huge example of that."

Limited use of restraints, cost of care, nutrition and body cavity searches are included in HB 608.

For instance, leg and wrist restraints, restraints connected to other incarcerated persons and waist shackles would be barred during the second and third trimester of pregnancy, during labor or delivery, as well as six weeks postpartum. Pregnant incarcerated people would receive free prenatal, labor and delivery care which Puckett-Williams did not have. She also did not have feminine hygiene products while she was incarcerated, which HB 608 would provide.

"I was incarcerated while pregnant, received no prenatal care, [was in] shackles, all the things," Puckett-Williams said. "I had been in jail before and did not have access to menstrual pads. It was bad."

Triage upon return

Re-entry comes with barriers that may push a person's mental health to the back burner. Immediate needs such as housing and employment dominate the conversation, with less consideration given to the trauma of imprisonment or what led to incarceration in the first place.

"Overall health plays a huge role in your re-entry and mental health, this is a huge component of a person's total wellness," said Puckett-Williams, who utilizes therapy and advocates for transformative healing spaces. "While you're inside of a cage languishing, your mental health is definitely at risk."

Mental health concerns for returning citizens extend beyond depression and/or anxiety. For many people, including Puckett-Williams, self-value is key in rewriting the narrative and moving forward.

"Your self-image, how you view yourself, how you view the world, how you view yourself in the world, your contribution to the world, all of those things are impacted by incarceration," she said. "How do you process this ... deep trauma that you've experienced, with no resources, when your immediate needs are an ID, someplace to live and somewhere to work? What are you going to eat, what clothes are you going to wear? Those are the most immediate needs that a person has.

"There has to be a way that we can allow people to re-enter, come home and navigate everything that they need to navigate with assistance from the community."

Ashley Mahoney wrote this article for the Charlotte Post.


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In Mississippi, where thousands of people are serving life sentences, the impact of long-term imprisonment falls disproportionately on Black communities. Their advocates are raising concerns about the state's sentencing practices. And they're urging legislative reforms to reduce what they call "extreme sentences" and to address racial inequities in the system.

Celeste Barry, program associate with The Sentencing Project, co-authored a new report on the effects of long-term imprisonment. She said in Mississippi, more than 2,300 people are serving life sentences - and nearly three-quarters have no opportunity for parole.

"We see in Mississippi some extreme racial disparities that are far greater than the national average. So, over 70% of the life sentence population is Black in Mississippi, and that's compared to the still troubling 45% nationally" she explained.

Groups like hers are pushing for reforms to address these disparities. Barry highlights Oklahoma as an example, where the state passed the Domestic Violence Survivors Justice Act, allowing incarcerated individuals to seek reduced sentences if they can prove that abuse played a role in their crime.

Barry believes similar reforms could offer significant relief in Mississippi, especially given the state's disproportionately high number of women serving life sentences without parole.

"And this has the power to bring relief to hundreds of survivors in the state, and could be particularly meaningful in a state like Mississippi, where they have the largest share of their female life-sentenced population serving life without parole," she continued.

In 2021, Mississippi lawmakers passed a bipartisan bill to reduce the prison population by expanding parole opportunities for nonviolent offenders, but Gov. Tate Reeves vetoed it, citing public safety concerns.

Services for North Carolinians affected by the justice system is going mobile.

The Recidivism Reduction Educational Program Services mobile resource center is hitting the road today to provide reentry support across the state. It is the first effort of its kind.

Kerwin Pittman, founder and executive director of the organization, said the center will meet North Carolinians where they are, literally.

"What we wanted to do was bring a plethora of resources into these communities," Pittman explained. "Particularly communities that are highly impacted by recidivism and incarceration, and bring a wealth of resources to them to hopefully curb the recidivism rate."

The center had its unveiling and ribbon cutting on Tuesday and is starting in the Raleigh-Durham area today. Pittman pointed out it is the first of four units he hopes to have running by the end of the year. They will be located in different parts of the state and rotate throughout their region each week.

Pittman emphasized the units will be able to provide a long list of services.

"Some of those services range from social-benefit assistance to employment assistance to education and skill development to offering support and mental health services, substance misuse treatment and services, housing assistance, legal support, family and community support, digital literacy," Pittman outlined.

He added they will also provide inclement weather supplies, hygiene kits and local reentry resources through the organization's call center.

Places like NC Works Career Centers and other state services are able to provide local resources. But Pittman noted the services can be hard to access without a car, which can deter people.

"It's hard to walk in the cold to NC Works Center to sit in there and have to go through no telling what the intake process is, just to get whatever benefit that you may be trying to apply for or a resume or try to find a job," Pittman observed.

The battle over Jefferson County's 2021 redistricting maps heads to court this week with plaintiffs arguing the map violates the Voting Rights Act and the Constitution.

The case, McClure v. Jefferson County Commission, claims Black voters were unfairly packed into two districts, diluting their influence in others.

Zephyr Scalzetti, program specialist for Alabama Values, a nonprofit advocacy group focused on promoting civic engagement, pro-democracy policies and fair representation on issues such as voting rights and redistricting, said the case is about more than lines on a map; it is about ensuring every voter has an equal voice.

"You look at the map overall. Jefferson County residents are willing to elect Black representatives but it is impossible for a Black candidate to win in these three white districts," Scalzetti contended. "The plaintiffs are alleging that this is because those two supermajority Black districts are so packed with Black voters it is diluting their voice."

Jefferson County's five-district system was established in 1985. However, the lawsuit alleges that the 2021 maps are racially gerrymandered and haven't changed much since then. Districts 1 and 2 are still supermajority Black while Districts 3, 4 and 5 remain majority white, limiting influence despite the population of Black residents growing.

Scalzetti noted the case raises significant concerns about transparency in the redistricting process. The lawsuit alleges the commission failed to conduct analyses required by the Voting Rights Act, such as a racially polarized voting study. It also points to limited public input, with key meetings held during work hours and proposed maps only viewable in person at the commission's office.

Scalzetti emphasized the case highlights the importance of local redistricting in shaping representation and ensuring residents have a voice in decisions affecting their daily lives.

"Ultimately, this is about power," Scalzetti asserted. "This is about the power of a community, the power of an individual voter and a group of people to actually affect what is happening in their community."

The trial started on Monday and is taking place in the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Alabama. It is expected to draw comparison to the landmark Supreme Court case Allen v. Milligan. Scalzetti added the case could have far-reaching impacts on redistricting, not only in other counties across Alabama but throughout the South.