CORI reform activists pushing for legislation

Yawu Miller

It was bad enough that Stephanie Parrott got rejected for a job with a teen mentoring program. But the fact that the nonprofit that rejected her in 1998 didn’t tell her why made things worse.

Parrott found herself treading the rugged road of rejection traveled by many people who have files with the state’s Criminal Offender Record Information.

“I tried to get an apartment though the Boston Housing Authority,” she said. “They never explained why I was rejected. I didn’t know I had a CORI. I was ignorant of the law.”

It was after she applied to be a foster parent that she learned the real reason for her rejection: her landlord’s criminal complaint against her.

Parrott says her landlord tried to sexually assault her back in 1995 and then filed a complaint against her in court, alleging that she tried to attack him with a knife. Although the case was continued without a finding, the charge of assault and battery with a dangerous weapon has stayed on Parrott’s CORI record like a stubborn stain.

Now, as a member of the Boston Worker Alliance, Parrott spends much of her time helping others with CORI’s find work and advocating for reform of the CORI system. Last Thursday, she joined hundreds of activists on the Boston Common for a demonstration calling on the state Legislature to reform the CORI system.

“When I found out what the cause was, I knew I had to do something,” she said. “I have people in my family who have CORIs too. I truly believe that the only way we can effect change is to come together.”

The demonstration, followed by a coordinated lobbying event at the State House, drew activists, ex-convicts and political leaders from across the state.

“This is oppression by government, instituted by the government,” said Cambridge Mayor Ken Reeves. “And it should be ended by the people.”

Last year, some lawmakers filed a raft of bills aimed at reforming the state’s CORI system, while others filed bills aimed at strengthening the CORI laws. In the end, none of the bills passed.

This time around, state Senator Dianne Wilkerson says CORI reform is more likely to pass.

“Last year none of this happened,” she said, gesturing towards the crowd gathered on the Common. “This is organized. Elected officials in every city in the state are hearing from constituents. This is no longer a black or brown issue. We’ve been able to demonstrate that this is a state-wide issue.”

CORI reform advocates estimate that there are more than 2 million people in Massachusetts with CORI records.

That has made for a massive organizing base for the Massachusetts Alliance to Reform CORI, an effort spearheaded by activist Horace Small.

“We’ve had to work very hard, but we’ve been able to convince folks that it’s in their best interests to work together,” he said. “We’ve reached out to whites, to immigrants, we’ve gone to New Bedford, Lawrence, Lowell. And people get it. We’ve been able to build a multi-racial, multi-cultural movement that’s led by people of color.”

Not every CORI record represents a crime committed. Like Parrott, people who were charged with a crime and then later acquitted of that crime still retain a CORI record.

Employers and housing agencies use the CORI system to weed out applicants, often without checking what the crime was or whether the person has actually committed a crime.

Edwin Martinez, a Jamaica Plain resident, says his name is in a national CORI database for a drug conviction in Texas. But Martinez, who serves in the Army Reserves, says his name was confused with another Edwin Martinez who is currently serving time for possession of 25 pounds of marijuana.

“This bothers me,” said Martinez, who was recently turned down for a job with Rent-A-Center. “If it was something I did, then I could accept it. But I didn’t do the crime.”

Wilkerson says there is currently no means for people in Massachusetts who have mistakes on their CORI record to change them. A reform effort Wilkerson is shepherding through the state Senate would impose a ten-year limit for misdemeanor crimes on CORI records, allow judges to seal juvenile CORI records and place the onus on the Criminal History Systems Board for clearing up mistakes like the one that is on Martinez’s record.

“I think the CORI system is completely dysfunctional,” she said.

While the Senate is poised to move forward with the Public Safety Act of 2006, which has CORI reform provisions, the House leaders reportedly have been slow to move on legislation.

Following last week’s rally, CORI reform advocates began their lobbying effort, marching to the State House offices of their elected representatives. Small said the Massachusetts Alliance to Reform CORI plans to keep up the pressure on the Legislature.

In an election year, where Republicans are vying to keep control over the governor’s office and pick up more seats in the House and Senate, CORI could still serve as a wedge issue. Last week the Globe ran a feature story on an ex-con who is struggling with his CORI, only to find later that he had participated in a 1960s robbery in which a police officer was shot to death. That story sparked ire from the police union — a key political player in law enforcement issues.

“We have to play it skillfully,” Small said. “The media and the public are giving us a small margin of error. The fight right now is about getting the Public Safety Act of 2006 passed.”