I was fifteen when I became a mother — a baby raising a baby.

My childhood home never felt safe or steady. My dad was an addict, my mom was exhausted, and love in our house was never something you felt. You know, none of us gets to pick our parents or our environment. We just land where we land, by chance. I spent most of my childhood angry, restless, and trying to grow up and get out before I understood what either of those meant.

By sixteen I had a newborn daughter. Three months later, her father took his own life.
Everything inside me broke, and I spent the next twelve years trying to fill the emptiness with drugs, quick money, chaos, and people who hurt as deeply as I did.

I loved my children, but I couldn’t give them what I didn’t know how to hold myself. Things like stability, sobriety, self-worth were so out of reach for me, and as a result, they were out of reach for them. I went to prison more than once. Each time I swore I’d change, and each time I slipped back into the only life I understood.

This last time, I came back to prison with nothing but shame and a promise to myself: This time has to be different.

I heard about the Televerde Foundation Career PATHS from another woman in my room. She was a graduate who spoke about the program like hope could be real, not imaginary. I went to the open house and cried on and off through every story. For the first time, I felt possibility land somewhere deeper than my head. It hit my heart.

I joined PATHS and I gave it everything: interviewing, Coursera, LinkedIn and Ivy Tech classes, professional certification, and showing up. I also learned how to speak with people, prepare for a job, and advocate for myself.

Starting over is not easy, but I don’t want easy anymore. I want better.

I’m leaving prison this month with something I’ve never had before…a job in Corporate America waiting for me (it’s true!), a future I can build, and a grandchild who deserves the version of me my own kids didn’t get. I know I wasn’t the mom my children needed. But I will be the grandmother my granddaughter remembers for all the right reasons.

If PATHS disappears, women like me lose this chance and so do our children…and their children after them. Please help protect it.

Programs like PATHS in Indiana and Arizona are at risk. We need to raise $500,000 to keep them alive.

If my story moved you. I’m asking you personally to give what you can. Because second chances don’t just change a life; they change a family.

Donate Now To Help Us Protect Her Second Chance.

With hope,

Jessica

PATHS Graduate