Nearly 50 people waited in the Grant Hill neighborhood’s Total Deliverance Worship Center — a fitting name for the site of a clinic offering a potential clean slate for people with criminal records.
Among them was 46-year-old Michael Whyte, who works as an organizer for Pillars of the Community, the San Diego nonprofit putting on the event.
Whyte was convicted for armed robbery in his early 20s.
He spent most of the decade in prison, and after violating probation after his release, all of his 30s, too. He said he worked in the prison’s fire camp, risking his life to keep wildfires from spreading. He’s proud of each of the six years he’s been home.
But even after he served his time, the record haunted him. It made it hard to secure employment, stable housing, scholarships and credit.
“Are we still paying for things that we paid for 20, 30 years ago?” Whyte asked. “I don't know anybody that's at my age that was the same person they were 20 years ago. So stop crucifying us.”
Though Whyte had facilitated similar clinics for others, this would be the first time he could “get a crack at it” himself, because of changes brought in July by a new California law — Senate Bill 731.
Among other things, it expanded the arrest sealing and expungement laws to include a broader range of state felony convictions, including cases resulting in prison sentences.
The new laws make it harder for many employers, licensing agencies and landlords to see these convictions or arrests. Previously, if a person had a state prison sentence, there was no avenue to clear their record other than a governor’s pardon which is difficult to obtain.
Well over a million Californians now qualify, including Whyte.
Pillars organizer Aaron Harvey said the kind of economic stability a clear record can provide reduces crime.
It affects more than just the individual. It allows them to do things like chaperone field trips and coach little league, he said.
“So not only does it just change the trajectory of the individual's lives, but it changes the trajectory of families’ lives, which in turn ripples down into the community,” Harvey said.
Harvey said they hope to hold these clinics once a month.
Whyte said they make record clearing more accessible.
“You pull up, you got snacks, got coffee,” he said. “You get to sit down and talk to lawyers one-on-one and figure out if you qualify for it. So yeah, it’s real comfortable. You ain’t got to go far out or pay for parking. It’s right here in the community.”
Whyte was excited for his chance to seal his record, but tried to keep himself in check.
“If I get it,” he kept saying. “If.”
It was hard to believe the record trailing him for decades could really be put to rest.
“I’m going to apply for a job at NASA!” he said, laughing, when asked what he would do if his record was sealed.
Either way, he said, he just planned to keep helping his community. It felt good to give back.
But when the public defender called him back and reviewed his case, she told him he was qualified.
He filled out the paperwork under a wall stencil that read: “The best is yet to come.”
He waited to celebrate until he exited the room and saw his friends.
“I’m about to get expunged!” he shouted.
“Yeah?” someone asked.
“It seems like it! She said I qualify!” he said, then burst into the Rocky theme song.
“New man,” his friend said.
