By the time Paul Solomon was 15 years old, heroin was a devil on his shoulder nudging him toward all the wrong decisions. His life revolved around the satisfaction of his cravings, and he did whatever it took to ease his fix.
Before he was even 20, Solomon lied, stole and robbed his way to a series of drug-related convictions and years behind bars. Looking at him — a 5′ 9″-ish, soft-spoken man sitting in front of a Technicolored row of prison psychology books — you’d think he was just another University alumni with a career in the social services field.
And listening to the apprehension in his voice as he gets into the details of his murky past, he’d probably prefer it that way too.
Today, Solomon is the executive director of Sponsors, Inc., a local re-entry program that aids felons in getting back on their feet. Sponsors houses released inmates, helps them get jobs and does everything it can to keep them drug and alcohol free.
Clients at Sponsors have access to various resources that many felons never attain. This isn’t just another one of those psychologist-led facilities where the faculty uses book knowledge to aid their clients — many of the faculty members have criminal records and went through the Sponsors program themselves.
Coming out of an eight-year sentence for bank robbery, Solomon went through Sponsors and got his life together. The resources available there were crucial in his transition from drug-addicted felon to earning an undergraduate degree in sociology. After working for a while at an unemployment agency, Solomon was offered a case management position at Sponsors, and he worked his way up the ladder to get to the executive director position he holds today.
He’s doing what he can to fight America’s incredible recidivism rate, and from the look in his eyes as he talks about the issues felons face, it becomes clear that this is his life’s mission.
“I’ve always been passionate about criminal justice issues,” Solomon says.
After serving seven months in jail, Abraham Alfaro had no place to go, and no place to restart his life. When he was released, the guards pretty much said, “Here’s your stuff, there’s the door, have a nice day.”
Of course, getting a felon’s life back on track after seven months of incarceration takes a hell of a lot more than a bag filled with socks, shoes and jeans.
“A lot of people who wind up in the system find it difficult to get out of the system,” Solomon says.
Alfaro came to Sponsors and was provided a bed, support in finding a job and access to a team of advisers and faculty members who do whatever they can to ensure he doesn’t wind up on the streets — or back in jail.
“It’s a regimented environment,” Alfaro says. “They keep an eye on us.”
Inside Solomon’s office, a sunlit room with papers scrambled about on a round table, several knocks on his glass door call for his attention. In between an answered question or two, Solomon returns to the desk and does his best to pick back up where he left off.
He just finished giving someone a tour of the place, and soon after, another meeting is calling his name.
His work never seems to end — but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit.
Solomon, and the rest of the Sponsors faculty, are the forerunners in a fight to reduce the incarceration and recidivism rates within Oregon. An ex-con himself, Solomon knows what it feels like to be bolted into a cell among the most dangerous people in America, and he knows that coming out of a violent and racist social microcosm takes tons of support and sympathy.
He knows this because he learned it firsthand.