Phaedra: A New Beginning
Donation protected
My name is Phaedra Walker. I am a 37 year old mother of four precious children. I am a writer and reader of poetry. I am a woman who graduated from high school second in her class, who made honor roll all four years, who served as Senior Class President. I am a student who received a four-year academic scholarship to attend Mississippi Valley State University, where I earned 176 credits toward my Bachelor degree in Biology and Early Childhood Development. I am a provider, who was gainfully employed for 16 years. And now, I am a felon.
November 12, 2011 is the day I lost my humanity. I was charged with a felony at the age of 32. This was the first time in my life that I had been involved with the law. I am not a drug dealer or user, I am not a thief, and I am not a murderer. I am not a criminal but I did commit a crime; one that occurred because of what I felt was a well-founded and legitimate fear for the safety of myself and my family. And so I was taken to court. I have never been a rich woman, and hiring a private attorney to represent me was simply out of the question. I was afforded my constitutional right to representation, and a public defender was appointed to represent me. She strongly encouraged me to accept a plea deal, billing it as the best option to ensure that I could be home with my kids as soon as possible. What is five years of probation if it means I get to go home tomorrow and see their faces?
And so I pled guilty. When I did so, despite not having the money to be able to afford an attorney in the first place, I was ordered to pay well over $3,000 in court costs and $60 every month for five years in probation fees. This financial responsibility and the permanent brand of (felon) that I wear have left me marginalized, disenfranchised, and so in need of help that I am turning to you to help me raise $6000. In committing and pleading guilty to a felony, I undertand that I gave up many of the rights afforded to me at birth to actively participate as a full-fledged citizen of this country. I understand that never again will I be able to vote for the elected officials who represent me. I understand that never again will I have the opportunity to serve on a jury of my peers. I understand that never again will I be able to own a firearm.
What I did not understand when I agreed to plead guilty was the permanent burden of hardship that I assumed that day. I did not understand that I would be ineligible for employment at virtually every business in the state of Mississippi. I did not understandthat I would be barred for the rest of my life from receiving federal assistance for food and shelter. I did not understand the psychological toll of being looked at day in and day out not for who I am as a human being, but always as the worst thing I ever did.
I live in a small town in Mississippi, a state that is, on paper, a (second chance) state. This means that, in theory, Mississippi is a state that embraces the concept of rehabilitation and reintegration of people who have made mistakes. This means that, in theory, I should have the opportunity to work hard, allowing me to pay my court fees and live a productive life. Every morning, I wake up and go out in search of employment, praying that I will find a company or an individual who is willing to look at me not as a felon but as a human being. In four years and after more submitted job applications than I can possibly count, I have yet to find a single person who is willing to do so. How am I supposed to feed my children today? Many days, I struggle to answer that question. If we cannot eat, how do I begin to deal with the growing court and probation fees that stand before me, insurmountable as Mount Everest? There is never a day on which I can answer that question.
Am I fallible? Yes. Have I made mistakes in my past? Of course. But do one terrible mistake, one single day, and one solitary involvement with our criminal justice system mean that I should forever be stripped of my ability to fullfill the desire most innate in all of us, the desire to proivide for my children? I want nothing more than to give them the world, but how can I do that when I cant even give them the bare necessities? At this point I would settle just for the ability to give them birthday presents. It is a terrible thing for any individuals to be put in the position where, no matter their intention or their will, they simply cannot achieve the type of self-reliance to which we all aspire. I am in that position and am here asking for your help.
My goal is to raise $6,000. With this money, I can pay off my court and probation fees. Once those are paid, I am eligible to be taken off probation, a burden of crippling weight. I intend to use the remainder of the money you have donated to move my family to Tennessee, a state that more fully embraces in actuality the concept of second chances. $6,000 would allow me to live, if not my dream the semblance of a normal life. All I want is to work and to give my kids the childhoods they deserve. Please help me.
November 12, 2011 is the day I lost my humanity. I was charged with a felony at the age of 32. This was the first time in my life that I had been involved with the law. I am not a drug dealer or user, I am not a thief, and I am not a murderer. I am not a criminal but I did commit a crime; one that occurred because of what I felt was a well-founded and legitimate fear for the safety of myself and my family. And so I was taken to court. I have never been a rich woman, and hiring a private attorney to represent me was simply out of the question. I was afforded my constitutional right to representation, and a public defender was appointed to represent me. She strongly encouraged me to accept a plea deal, billing it as the best option to ensure that I could be home with my kids as soon as possible. What is five years of probation if it means I get to go home tomorrow and see their faces?
And so I pled guilty. When I did so, despite not having the money to be able to afford an attorney in the first place, I was ordered to pay well over $3,000 in court costs and $60 every month for five years in probation fees. This financial responsibility and the permanent brand of (felon) that I wear have left me marginalized, disenfranchised, and so in need of help that I am turning to you to help me raise $6000. In committing and pleading guilty to a felony, I undertand that I gave up many of the rights afforded to me at birth to actively participate as a full-fledged citizen of this country. I understand that never again will I be able to vote for the elected officials who represent me. I understand that never again will I have the opportunity to serve on a jury of my peers. I understand that never again will I be able to own a firearm.
What I did not understand when I agreed to plead guilty was the permanent burden of hardship that I assumed that day. I did not understand that I would be ineligible for employment at virtually every business in the state of Mississippi. I did not understandthat I would be barred for the rest of my life from receiving federal assistance for food and shelter. I did not understand the psychological toll of being looked at day in and day out not for who I am as a human being, but always as the worst thing I ever did.
I live in a small town in Mississippi, a state that is, on paper, a (second chance) state. This means that, in theory, Mississippi is a state that embraces the concept of rehabilitation and reintegration of people who have made mistakes. This means that, in theory, I should have the opportunity to work hard, allowing me to pay my court fees and live a productive life. Every morning, I wake up and go out in search of employment, praying that I will find a company or an individual who is willing to look at me not as a felon but as a human being. In four years and after more submitted job applications than I can possibly count, I have yet to find a single person who is willing to do so. How am I supposed to feed my children today? Many days, I struggle to answer that question. If we cannot eat, how do I begin to deal with the growing court and probation fees that stand before me, insurmountable as Mount Everest? There is never a day on which I can answer that question.
Am I fallible? Yes. Have I made mistakes in my past? Of course. But do one terrible mistake, one single day, and one solitary involvement with our criminal justice system mean that I should forever be stripped of my ability to fullfill the desire most innate in all of us, the desire to proivide for my children? I want nothing more than to give them the world, but how can I do that when I cant even give them the bare necessities? At this point I would settle just for the ability to give them birthday presents. It is a terrible thing for any individuals to be put in the position where, no matter their intention or their will, they simply cannot achieve the type of self-reliance to which we all aspire. I am in that position and am here asking for your help.
My goal is to raise $6,000. With this money, I can pay off my court and probation fees. Once those are paid, I am eligible to be taken off probation, a burden of crippling weight. I intend to use the remainder of the money you have donated to move my family to Tennessee, a state that more fully embraces in actuality the concept of second chances. $6,000 would allow me to live, if not my dream the semblance of a normal life. All I want is to work and to give my kids the childhoods they deserve. Please help me.
Organizer
Phay Walker
Organizer
Greenwood, MS