“Never give up on people,” is the mantra that inspires Five Keys’ custody case manager

On a recent Wednesday afternoon, Nelly Vasquez was volunteering to help undocumented families register so they could participate in a grocery distribution program at The Mission Food Hub, a Latino task force resource hub, in San Francisco. For people with extenuating circumstances who are unable to make it to the hub, like seniors, people in recovery from COVID-19, disabled and others who are sick or have health challenges, the food pantry offers limited delivery services.

But on this day, while helping to register an elderly gentleman who was in line for a box of nutritious and comforting staples like oatmeal, beans, milk, fresh produce and frozen chicken or protein cuts, she observed that the man seemed especially confused and his arms and legs were jerking. But with a mask and sunglasses covering his eyes, it took Vasquez a second or two to realize what was unfolding.  

“Are you okay?,” she asked, her first instinct thinking he was having a stroke. When he fell to the floor, Vasquez jumped into action, pushing him on his side and calling 911. She stayed at the man’s side until the paramedics arrived, assuring him it would all be okay.

“At first I thought he was upset because he had told me he wasn’t working and was undocumented and was afraid to register,” she says. “Then I realized he was having a seizure. When the paramedics arrived, he refused service because he was afraid because he is undocumented,” says Vasquez, 36, who was volunteering at the food distribution center on her day off from her full-time post as a TAY In Custody Case Manager/Facilitator. “He told me he had epilepsy but couldn’t afford to take his meds. He was incredibly grateful and thankful and kept saying he was so sorry.”

Though her colleagues at Five Keys are calling her efforts heroic, Vasquez says caring is all in her line of duty. The Mission Food Hub is an organization whose mission is closely aligned with Five Keys and the shared mission to care for the vulnerable in the greatest need.

“Nelly was there to support him to make sure he was OK until the paramedics showed up,” says Joanna Hernandez, Alameda County Director of Re-entry, Northern California. “The Latino Task Force Executive Team wanted me to send an email thanking her for her help, support, and patience during an incredibly stressful time. Thank you Nelly!”

For Vasquez, a mother of a five-year-old, supporting 18-to-24-year-olds who are enrolled in case management and resilience programming who are in custody in jail is work she says she feels very passionately about. For the last four years, she has been a TAY In Custody Manager/Facilitator for Five Keys, working at the San Francisco County Jail in the downtown area, and most recently at the San Francisco County Jail #3 in San Bruno, which houses up to 768 people and is the largest facility under the jurisdiction of the City and County of San Francisco’s Sheriff’s Department.

Growing up in San Francisco, she says she stumbled off her path for a while as a teen, got into trouble, and owes her second chance to those who reached out to help her.

Now, she’s committed to other young adult offenders offering care, and not punishment, emphasizing emotional support and helping them to address the issues that will prevent them from a cycle of committing more crimes and instead of helping them become citizens making a difference.

These days, thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic, she says it is a little more challenging to meet with the young adults she wants to help. Most of her clients are young men who have been involved in gang activity and their offenses range from drug use and theft to assault and murder.

Through a window in the lobby of the jail, (she used to be able to work with the young people in person in their units), Vasquez works with a caseload of 25 to 30 people, checking in on them, asking how they are doing, when they are going to court, and advocating for them through the process.

“It’s hard because our jails are filled with Black and Latino men who sometimes just made terrible mistakes,” she says. “I hope to be part of a system that gives them a second chance, rehabilitates them so that they can turn their lives around.”

The lesson she is learned in her role: “Never give up on people. Everyone just wants to be treated like a human being and they deserve to be given a chance to start over.”

What is most rewarding for her are the people she has worked with who she bumps into on the streets of San Francisco.

“I encounter a ton of people in my job, and it is super rewarding to be walking through the city and have someone stop me to say ‘thank you,’ that I made a difference in their life,” says Vasquez.

Teaching High School Classes In Maximum Security: “Gives Me Hope for the Future”

For “Miss B,” a San Jose single mother of two young adults, teaching English literature and other subjects to about 70 men in a maximum-security California jail remains the single most moving and humbling experience in her more than 21 years in education. 

“It’s so rewarding to witness students reading their own prose or smiling when they master an algebra equation, how proud they are of themselves,” says the 44-year-old former middle school language arts teacher. She adds that teaching at the jail in some ways is more rewarding than teaching in public schools.   

“Sure, there are some resistant students, but most are curious and excited to show up in class,” says Miss B. 

During the last two years, she has taught general high school courses and led a drug and alcohol program at the Santa Clara County Jail in San Jose where she says she’s learned a most important life lesson — “You are not your crime and your past does not define you.” 

“Many of the students have been convicted of violent crimes, but they still have a soul,” says Miss B. “They are still funny, smart people who have potential. I get the honor of being able to enter their home daily and form an open, respectful relationship with them. Meaning, the students are in classes to learn from me and show me respect, just as I show them respect. I also learn from them about their life experiences and have come to view things with a more empathetic lens.  I’m here to educate my students  as best I can during the time they are with me.”

In addition to teaching the core curriculum, Miss B. brings her life experience and own recovery to the jail, sharing her own story and helping inmates turn their narrative around. Miss B. knows that paying it forward also helps in her recovery as well.

As part of Five Keys Schools & Programs’ novel initiative to teach inmates at a higher level, she is passionate about the mission to turn lives around, forge opportunities and ultimately reduce recidivism and the financial and social costs to society. 

During “normal” times, there are challenges working inside a jail,— from lack of classroom space to technological limitations — but the COVID-19 pandemic has magnified the obstacles. In order to keep on teaching these men and helping them to earn their diploma, and the possibility of a life that does not involve going back to being incarcerated, these days she drops off her lessons at the jail.  Jail staff deliver the curriculum to the inmates to complete, and then the completed work to Miss B. to review.

Miss B. jests:  “Some people asked me if I was hesitant to teach people who have murdered people. My response is that teaching middle school students, and how tough that can sometimes be, prepared me for this, and offenders are still deserving of an education.”

She says she was drawn to the opportunity to teach incarcerated students a couple of years ago when she stumbled on Five Keys during some Google research and discovered a news story clip featuring the organization.  She says she was immediately intrigued and was drawn to the mission.

“I have gained such an understanding of the odds some people face and the fact that we are all responsible for doing something to help.”

In addition to her teaching, Miss B. is also interested in training for and working with Five Keys’ restorative justice program, helping with counseling for and exploring how the programs can be brought to life at Five Keys navigation centers to help with the homeless population.

Up from the Ashes: After devastating Woolsey Fire, Five Keys Crew is bringing Malibu’s beaches and national parklands back to life

In an effort that should inspire anyone seeking a second chance to turn his or her life around, 39-year-old Oscar Abrons III spends his days leading a crew of men who are rebuilding the breathtaking canyon trails and prized beaches of Malibu following the largest wildfire in Malibu’s history, which consumed nearly 97,000 acres in both Los Angeles and Ventura counties.

As manager of the Woolsey Park Project for Five Keys Schools and Programs, Abrons leads two crews who have been working almost daily to restore the hiking trails, access roads and campsites that were ravaged during the 2018 Woolsey Fire, leaving the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area, the largest urban park in the country, looking like a war zone.

During these uncertain times, his hard work and that of his team are a reason for hope, an inspiration that communities can band together to pull themselves and each other out of despair and build
new life.

For Abrons, who grew up about an hour away from the hills of Malibu in San Pedro, CA, laboring with his crew to transform the devastation into new life speaks volumes about his own and the community of support and second chances he found at Five Keys, following his own journey in and out of jail from ages 23 to 34.

“We have a great sense of pride knowing that we’ve faced some bad times in our lives, but that we can work hard together to create a better way,” says Abrons about the eight men he works with on the two crews he oversees, all of whom at one point in their lives have been incarcerated. “Five Keys changed my life dramatically with all the support they gave me.”

It was about five years ago when Abrons said he was taking a painting class behind bars and met Dave Bates, director of transitional employment and re-entry for Five Keys. 

“Coming out of jail and prison, I must have gone on 10 to 15 job interviews that were going nowhere,” says Abrons. “No one wanted someone who has been in jail and prison. But the support I found through Dave and everyone at Five Keys, it turned me around and showed me I can do something positive with my life.”

His first job: A crew member for Five Key’s Cal Fire Crew. Recently, he was promoted as manager of the crews. Prior to COVID-19, he oversaw two crews of eight members each. They were cut in half during the pandemic.

“Oscar aka (OB) , has been a tremendous addition to our Transitional re-entry team,” says Bates.  “His attention to detail, punctuality and people skills has elevated him above the rest of his crew.  I am confident knowing that when a task is given to him or research that is required, I can rest assured that it will be handled.  I have had the pleasure to watch OB grow from unemployment to a line staff and into a leadership role. “

Now Abrons says his favorite part of the work is mentoring other crew members.

“All of us have been in transition from incarceration, some of the crew are ex-lifers,” says Abrons. “I like to help them know that they are not alone. Help is out there. None of us can do it alone. Everybody needs help and that is what our work together is. I tell them I want to see all of them succeed. I want to see all of them shine.”

In the meantime, when there are now red flag warnings of other fires in the Los Angeles area, Abrons and his crew head to the trails, beaches and dunes to clear the ashes and prove that everyone can recover, no matter what fires have ravaged their lives and tried to blacken and destroy the beauty. For Abrons and his crew, that means returning to the charred hiss, removing the debris, and planting the seeds of new life.

Above and Beyond the Call of Duty: Officers lauded as heroes for coming to the rescue of a 68-year-old formerly incarcerated abuse survivor tasting freedom for the first time in three decades

Recently released after spending 34 years in prison on a wrongful lifetime sentence, Rosie Dyer powered up her new electric wheelchair and set off through the streets of San Francisco to meet friends in Union Square and celebrate her new freedom. That Sunday afternoon, after tooling around the city she remembered fondly from her childhood, the brand-new wheelchair broke down, leaving the 68-year-old stranded. She was just one block from the transition home on Bush Street where she has found safe shelter since Gov. Gavin Newsom granted the freedom she had only dreamed about. 

“I was terrified,” says Dyer, 68, who is a cancer survivor and suffers from congestive heart failure. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.” 

That’s when Dyer, who is just learning to navigate daily life much less modern technology, remembered her cell phone and dialed one of her advocates she had just celebrated with. She’d promised to be there as quickly as possible to push Dyer home. But Dyer warned her: “That’s not going to work. This thing weighs more than 200 pounds so there is no way you can push me up this hill.” 

Fast-forward … while the advocate, Sheila Von Driska was sprinting back across the city, she saw a couple of police officers, explained the complicated situation, and asked them for help. Underscoring their motto to protect and serve, the officers sprang into action to help Dyer. Sergeant James O’Malley and Officer Chris Quiocho from the Northern Station were the first to arrive. But they also quickly realized the steep hill and heavy wheelchair called for a backup team. Officers Simon Hoang and Anthony Quimbo from the Tenderloin Station raced to their aid.

During these times when police officers are rarely told they are valued, Dyer and her advocates, along with city leadership, did not want their compassionate response to care to go unnoticed. 

After hearing of the good deed by the lawmen, Damali Taylor, Vice President of the Police Commission for the City and County of San Francisco Police Department, gave the officers a shoutout at a recent commissioner’s meeting to ensure their exemplary actions did not go unnoticed. 

“This woman is incredible, in a wheelchair and using it for first time, after experiencing so much time in prison, she just wanted to spend some time to see the city,” says Taylor. “It’s an incredible story and shows how we do not do enough to thank the heroes who serve us every day. I want to thank them and shout them out. I want to take my time to thank those officers who helped this woman who has experienced incredible horrible things. They dropped everything they were doing to make her feel special. Thank you.” 

At the commission hearing, Taylor read a letter written by Von Driska thanking the police officers:

“I’m so happy to hear these officers will be commended. Rosie has been through enough in her life — it was poetic. But, I understand these amazing peace officers are also going through quite a bit of injustice, too, due to the ripple effect of what happened in Minneapolis. O’Malley and Quiocho were telling me about the horrible experiences and name-calling they have been enduring because of it … based on the color of the uniforms they wear … not at all who they are, as people, evidenced by yesterday.

“Well, for whatever it is worth … they are my heroes. They stepped up in the absolute most kindest way possible to help me and Rosie with the most unusual request … a broken down brand new electric wheelchair on Jones Street for a woman who had spent 34 years in prison (unjustly) and on one of the very first days she ventured out on her own with her new “wheels” to celebrate six months of freedom with me and you for lunch in Union Square … one block from home … she got stuck. And of all the people in the world … San Francisco’s finest responded with such grace and gentle care. What an escort home!

“Last week Rosie said she was looking forward to an adventure. And what an adventure it was … with superheroes in blue coming to the rescue and the happiest day and ending possible. Thank you to our heroes.”

Using her voice for change

Dyer was one of about 100 abused women serving life or life without parole for killing their abusive husbands or partners.

In 1985, Dyer shot her husband with the same gun he had used to threaten and rape her. When she testified about the abuse, prosecutors used her words as evidence that she had a motive for the killing. After decades, and new laws, Gov. Gavin Newsom commuted Dyer’s sentence. She was released in April.

In addition to binge-watching her favorite book series, Outlander, now available to her on Netflix
(she read the series seven times during her imprisonment), Dyer has been opening up about her experience and about domestic violence to lawmakers, college students and others on ZOOM meetings dedicated to helping others gain a greater understanding of the intricacies of domestic violence. She also meets regularly and pens letters and emails to dozens of victims looking for help and survivors trying to do as she is, navigate their new worlds of freedom. 

In November, Dyer will be among the 12 women who will move into one of a set of two-bedroom apartments on Treasure Island, thanks to a new transitional housing program started by the Five Keys Home Free program dedicated to helping survivors of wrongful convictions transition back in the San Francisco and Los Angeles communities.  

“Rosie is one of the women who has endured unspeakable violence and painfully and unjustly ended up in prison because they were not able to introduce the evidence of the horrific abuse they suffered at the hands of their husbands or partners,” said Sunny Schwartz, founder and board member of Five Keys and Home Free. “We are trying to right a terrible wrong committed against these women.” Schwartz was with Von Driska and Dyer at the Little Skillet Fried Chicken lunch celebration just before the wheelchair breakdown. 

Like Dyer, these are women who killed their abusive partners decades ago and ended up with prison terms for life. That changed in 2012 when a new California law allowed the women to go back to the parole board or court and show evidence they were defending themselves from abuse. 

As a result, women like Dyer are receiving commuted sentences or early parole. Many need a place to call home.

“This is righting a terrible wrong that was committed against these women,” Schwartz said.

Besides rent-free housing, subsidized in part by the City of San Francisco, Five Keys partners with other agencies to help the newly freed women navigate daily life, from using a cell phone to finding
a job.

“God has blessed me, bringing heroes like this into my life,” says Dyer. “Now it is my turn to help others understand the horrors of domestic violence and to reach back to help women who are experiencing it and tell them they can get out. They don’t deserve to live like that.” 

About Five Keys Schools and Programs 

Five Keys Schools and Programs is leading Five Keys Home Free, a program seeking to create residential communities in San Francisco and Los Angeles providing life skills and survivor empowerment programs, as well as training and job placement for convicted survivors of domestic violence whose prison sentences have been commuted. Learn more: https://www.fivekeyshomefree.org/