Spotlight On

Alicia Teague

Chief Development Officer (CPR)

Imagine. Imagine for a moment that your life is just getting underway. You are doing well. All those years of campuses, classrooms, homework, studying, essays, and examinations have paid off. Not so long ago, you earned your Master's degree in Education from Georgia State University. You have settled down with the love of your life. You two are not married yet but you know that you one day will be. Everything seems to be on course. You are working as a school guidance counselor.

Then, in an instant, everything changes.

Alicia Teague can imagine this perfectly, because it is indelibly etched into her memories. Otherwise, Alicia might still today be working in a Georgia school district somewhere as a counselor, a teacher, a principal, or even a superintendent — she is an extremely motivated individual. She is “that person,” the one you know, whose first impression assures you that she is meant for the increase of benefit and well-being for all those around her. Surely, if it were not for that life altering circumstance which forever changed Alicia and her husband, we here at NIA would never have gained one of the most personable, hardworking, and dedicated forces in the battle against mass incarceration known in Georgia and beyond.

If asked who got her started in NIA, Alicia says, “I was started by my husband…he is the one who introduced it to me.” Alicia's husband was arrested for trafficking cocaine and marijuana. At the time she was also arrested, but her charges were eventually dropped. Terrence, Alicia's husband, went to prison in the Georgia Department of Corrections for 40 months. He had originally been charged with trafficking but that was dropped down to possession with intent to distribute. He was sentenced to 25 years, 10 of which he would have to do in prison. He was paroled after 40 months.

Alicia, never one to lollygag, started to act as soon as Terrence began serving his sentence, recalling “So, while he was in prison we were pretty much doing everything under the sun that we could do to try to get him help. He had a crazy amount of time that really did not match the crime. Thus, we wanted to make sure that he got paroled out as early as possible…in 40 months when he became eligible for parole.” In Georgia, incarcerated individuals become eligible for parole after they do a third of their time. Since Terrence had to do 10 years in prison, he would have to do three and 1/3 years, or 40 months, before he could be released on parole. Albeit Alicia wasn't the only one looking for help. Terrence himself always kept his ears open for any information that could get him out. When he did eventually hear about a means of reprieve, it wasn't NIA itself that he heard about, but it was Kate Boccia.

Terrence had heard little things here and there about Kate, most especially that she could get people out of jail. Serendipitously, one time while he was in the bathroom, he saw Kate's name and number on the bathroom wall. (Yes, names on bathroom walls and stalls in prison do not necessarily serve the same function that they do when seen on bar room walls and stalls). He then called Alicia and gave her Kate’s name and number, asking her to call. Alicia was hesitant at first. After all, he did find this number on the bathroom wall! Nevertheless, she did call. She got a Google Voice number, which wasn't as common back then as it is now, thus she thought it was some kind of scam. She left a voicemail with the Google Voice number and Kate did call back. Kate provided Alicia with some information for Terrence, but there was really nothing she could do for him as far as getting him out of confinement, and that was that…for the time being.

For the next 40 months Alicia, often accompanied by her stepfather, would go to visit Terrence in prison. Visitation in Georgia State Prisons only allows one's mother, father, brother, sister…immediate family…and two non-family member visitors. Alicia and her stepdad were the only visitors that Terrence received in his 40 months of incarceration. For Terrence, he was grateful. That was more visitors than he'd ever received previously. Of course, Alicia's first hurdle to leap in regard to visiting Terrance was to overcome the fact that she was his co-defendant. Logically, seeing that Alicia's charges were dropped, one would think that such a point would be moot.

Nevertheless, Alicia as well as her stepfather learned early on that The Georgia Department of Corrections did not have the best interests in mind as far as rehabilitation goes for their incarcerated individuals. Alicia had to provide proof to the prison that all of her charges had been dropped before she was allowed to visit Terrence. Eventually, after overcoming the GDC’s rigmarole, Alicia was approved for visitation. For 40 months she continued to visit Terrence in prison. She reminds us that it is the need for outside interaction, which is instrumental in the rehabilitation of incarcerated people, reflecting, “That was the thing that kept him in line. I remember him saying a few times that he really wanted to punch some guy in the face,” but he would not because he knew that visitation was coming up and he didn't want to ruin that. How badly would he have felt if Alicia had driven hours to see him only to get there to find out that he was locked up in a special housing unit and could not come to visitation? It's little things like this that contribute to the overall well-being of those in prison.

Something as small as a handwritten note in the mail does more for a prisoner's mental health than any amount of medication. Such was the case with Terrence’s future mother-in-law. She may not have been able to visit him (because of that wretched two non-family members only rule), but she wrote him numerous letters within those 40 months. Maintaining connections with their loved ones on the outside is paramount to a prisoner’s rehabilitation. Alicia is adamant in her notion that Georgia Department of Corrections and NIA as well as families of incarcerated individuals should be working as a team to ensure that those who are serving out their sentences are indeed rehabilitated and return home to not only be productive members of society but better human beings as a whole. Alicia reminds us of the ancient proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child.”

Thus, Alicia's involvement with NIA did not really begin until a year or so after Terrence came home from prison. The second parole officer that oversaw Terrence's supervision was a virtual monster, speaking to him in threatening and denigrating words and tones whenever they spoke on the phone. There are only a few states in the United States where a phone conversation cannot be recorded unless there is a consent of all parties: California, Delaware, Florida, Maryland, Massachusetts, Montana, Nevada, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, and Washington. Georgia is not one of these states. So, when Alicia was finally fed up with the language that Terrence’s PO was using on him, she decided to record one of their phone conversations. Alicia then sent the recording to Kate Boccia at the National Incarceration Association who helped Alicia get in contact with the senior parole officer that was over Terrence’s parole officer. Albeit Terrence has never since had another issue as he had with that parole officer. After that, Alicia and Kate became a team. Alicia had often thought of doing the type of work that Kate was doing but she had never had the time or strength while Terrence was incarcerated. With Terrence being home, Alicia thereafter came onboard NIA so that she could dedicate her time and wherewithal to helping others as Kate had helped them.

Well then, what exactly does Alicia do for the National Incarceration Association? Alicia Teague’s official job title at the NIA is Chief Development Manager. She works with CPR which is one of the hands-on, direct services of the National Incarceration Association. CPR stands for Conflict mitigation, Personal interaction, and Rehabilitation. They work directly with the people who are incarcerated and with their loved ones. Incarcerated individuals and family members alike write and call CPR asking for assistance in various things which could be as small as helping them to get on a visitor's list or as big as a family member being killed in prison and the family trying to acquire information and personal belongings when the prison won't release anything to them. Thus, CPR gets contacts of all kinds. All in all, CPR does its best to help prisoners and their families however and wherever they can.

Most of those on the CPR team have either been incarcerated themselves or have a loved one who has been or is incarcerated; so, they all know first-hand about the difficulties of navigating the various Department of Corrections systems. They especially try to establish contact with the incarcerated individuals themselves because CPR knows that many DOCS do not put rehabilitation forefront on the agenda for prisoners. CPR works with the incarcerated individual … as much as they can as there are limitations to that imposed by most DOCS … so that they can grow and improve themselves to prepare for the day when they are released. By helping prisoners learn to strengthen their family interactions, it teaches them that they have a team of people behind them to support them; this is a team who they do not want to let down. Naturally, every CPR intake begins with a message whether a phone call, text, or email.

Alicia describes an average intake phone call as such:

First and foremost, I want to be a friendly voice. I want to try to keep the person I'm speaking with calm because they're probably not calm if they are calling the NIA. The two main things to consider at CPR are whether that incarcerated person is safe and that they are growing while they're in prison. Of course, I'm not going to come right out and say, “Are you safe? “because the answer is NO, of course not … they're not safe because they're in prison. Nevertheless, we do have to establish whether the inmate is in fear for his life and whether we need to make a call right there and then for a welfare check. Then, I get the incarcerated person's name and GDC number so that I can look them up myself. I do so because I like to put a face to the name. I like to know who it is I'm helping.

Also, if I’m not speaking to an incarcerated person himself but to a sponsor, a family member or a loved one, someone from outside the facility, we give them a homework assignment to provide us with the picture of the incarcerated individual; a picture of a time when they are not incarcerated. It is that picture which will be put into our information system, not a picture that was taken as a mugshot nor a GDC identification card photo.

Thereafter, I want to find out their story and what made them contact the NIA. Perhaps, there are some immediate concerns which I might be able to help them with, and if not, then we can begin to establish a relationship. Indeed, if they have a lot of time to do, it is probably going to be a journey. Unfortunately, many of the calls we get are just people asking us to try to get them out of prison. That does make sense of course, because often when you're in prison what you really want to do is to just get out. However, we are not lawyers. Nonetheless, I still try to manage to create a relationship because sometimes these people just do not have anyone to talk to and we try to offer them a means of sharing their journey, hoping that they will maintain contact with us so that perhaps one day, when they are released, they will join NIA and help others who are in the same situations that they were in.

All In all, Alicia and her team at CPR are the first responders of the National Incarceration Association. They often receive calls from some Department of Corrections somewhere, but mostly from the Georgia Department of Corrections, seeking help from incarcerated people and/or their loved ones. They stand on the front lines of the battle against mass incarceration. The goals of CPR are to keep people safe while incarcerated, and to help them develop capacity and potential. Indeed, wherever the states have no strategic and comprehensive rehabilitation methods, CPR will step in when crisis arrives, and engage directly with incarcerated persons and their supportive loved ones to help them navigate the carceral system. As long as mass incarceration continues and as long as a difference needs to be made, there will be Alicia Teague, the CPR team, and the NIA.