Dr. Zaria Davis: 'Incarcerated people are still people.'
While most of us are content living what we jokingly call “our best lives,” Dr. Zaria Davis is dedicated to not only achieving the best version of her life, but striving to create opportunities for others to thrive, too. As a formerly incarcerated person, Dr. Davis has worked diligently to overcome the odds against her and right her wrongs, while helping others find a path to success through her nonprofit, Filling the Gap. We sat down with her via Zoom to discuss dehumanizing language, the effect of COVID-19 on incarcerated people, and what gives her hope.
Interview by Blaire Bartish. Photography by Nicolette Young.
Tell us about an experience that really shaped you as a person.
The experience that has really shaped me in the last several years has been my involvement in the criminal legal system. I was a mental health therapist for twenty-plus years and ended up going to federal prison. I received a twenty-four-month sentence, which was then reduced to eighteen months; in total, I was there for a year. That was just such a pivotal point in my life that inspired everything I do within the community today.
People are like, “Oh, you’re doing great work!” But in all honesty, I wouldn’t be doing any of this had that not happened. I was very content in the work I was doing helping families. But it took me going through this experience to really launch me into what I believe God had planned for me, which was my purpose: advocating to decarcerate jails and prisons, not just in Ohio, but nationally. For me, that was the pivotal moment that launched me into the space I’m in now where I’m able to bring my lived experience, education, and knowledge.
What do you want the general public to know about those who have been incarcerated?
Incarcerated people are still people. It’s not like somebody gets arrested or goes to prison and becomes some other entity. They’re still mothers, daughters, sisters, husbands, fathers – all of those things. We have to look through a lens of humanizing people in the system and not casting them out. I think it’s critical that as we move forward, we really look at people for who they are: human beings who have made mistakes, and should not have to be punished for the rest of their lives by those mistakes.
Oftentimes, we lack compassion for formerly incarcerated people. We not only stigmatize that person, but also their families: their children have to live with that and their parents often have to live with that. So it’s critical that we see people as who they are. When we’re talking about people returning home, it’s critical that we allow them to reintegrate. But if we’re not treating them as human beings before they get home, how do we expect them to be productive citizens afterward?
“There are so many people in Cincinnati who have felony convictions and are in hiding. They’re afraid of how people are going to treat them and how they’re going to be judged.”
I think that the humanity in all of this is critical as we move forward, whether it’s reentry, housing, healthcare, parenting, or any of the elements that impact people who are incarcerated, formerly incarcerated, or impacted by the criminal legal system in some way. The human aspect of it has to be intact.
We get so attached to these terms, like “offender” and “inmate.” And we remove the human side of it so that once we label them, there’s no emotion about what happens to them. I think that’s a coping mechanism for people – those words need to be removed from our vocabulary. There are people who are being detained. There are people who are incarcerated.
It’s critical these people come home to a place that is going to be healthy and productive for them so they can thrive, their families can thrive, and their communities can thrive. It’s all connected.
How does the pandemic affect this dehumanization?
We’re not treating COVID in the facilities the same way that we are on the outside. Incarcerated people are contracting COVID at higher rates, and the majority of these people do not have death sentences; they have release dates – 95% of the people in these prisons are coming home at some point in time. To allow people to die and suffer inside because you don’t see them as human lives is just despicable to me.
As laypeople, what can we do to help formerly incarcerated people who transition out of prison?
There are so many restrictions in place. In Ohio, there are something like a thousand collateral consequences after a person has a conviction; they’re never living it down. It’s like, you’ve done your time, you’ve paid your fees, and yet, you’re still being punished. Removing some of these barriers so that people have employment opportunities or becoming a second chance employer would help.
For regular people, just take time to learn about this issue. There’s tons of information out there about humanizing language or conditions of prisons. There are groups like The Marshall Project or Vera [Institute of Justice] that do a lot of research in this area. People can learn more to have a better understanding of how our system currently works.
I would also say don’t be so quick to judge. People make a lot of assumptions. When people meet me as Dr. Zaria Davis and they don’t know anything about my past, there’s this shock factor when they find out I was sentenced, like, “No, not you!” Imagine how many other “No, not you” people there are out there. There’s tons of people who have records; if you just got to know them, you’d realize they’re people, just like you. There are so many people in Cincinnati who have felony convictions and are in hiding. They’re afraid of how people are going to treat them and how they’re going to be judged. It’s critical that we take those stigmas away and just start treating people as human beings.
What obstacles did you overcome when you were released?
Even though my sentence was short, I literally started with nothing. I had no money, no place to live, no job. So I said to myself, “If this could happen to me in a year, what could happen to a person who’s been gone five or ten years?” I was inside with women whose kids were in custody, on the verge of being given up for adoption. There is a huge lack of resources and support for women coming home, and this is just what I’ve seen from my own lived experience. You have halfway houses that exist, but they’re just a housing mechanism; they don’t really provide the support and programs women really need.
I realized there were all these gaping holes for women, because not only do you need financial and tangible resources, but there also needs to be support around mental health and healing. Prison, no matter how you want to spin it, is traumatic, and if anybody tells you differently, they’re lying. You have to deal with that trauma. Some people go to therapy; some people turn to negative ways of coping with it. There has to be a way to get them plugged in with the support and services they need to be successful with not only their basic needs, but also their mental health needs.
“Prison, no matter how you want to spin it, is traumatic, and if anybody tells you differently, they’re lying. You have to deal with that trauma.”
I was fortunate in that I was able to secure a job quickly and get connected with some different resources, like Dress for Success, which is why I’m so invested in the work they do. I was eligible for home confinement. I got approved for one residence, but then my family member moved. I had to wait this long period of time because this person was on vacation, and that was the only person who approved home confinement. That just makes no sense. You’re just holding people and collecting money for these bodies... but jailing is a big money industry. So, I found an apartment that was willing to rent to me. I was able to get everything set up. And then [the home confinement approver] told me since there wasn’t anyone to live there [with me] that I couldn’t move in. And that just didn’t make sense either. But they had never had anyone secure their own place to live – they were so used to people coming home and staying with family. They just had no idea what to do. I think there are no cookie-cutter ways of providing services and treatment, but they try to do it in a cookie-cutter manner. And when you don’t do it their way, you’re on your own.
Tell us about your work with Filling the Gap.
All of [my experiences] led me to start my nonprofit because there are so many gaps in resources and services that aren’t being met. There are organizations receiving millions of dollars to provide these reentry services, and it’s not happening. So I launched my organization last year, Filling the Gap, and our goal is to do just that: fill the gaps in with services. We’re not duplicating services; we’re partnering with different groups like the Office of Reentry, Faith Freedom Life, and Ohio Prisoners Justice League so that we can fill these gaping holes that exist.
We’ll be launching our first cohort in 2021, called “Prison to Professional” for women interested in pursuing higher education. When people come home, oftentimes they work in a factory, construction, or cleaning houses. So we want to work with people who want a professional career, who want to be able to climb up the ladders.
I really believe we have some good people working on the ground in Cincinnati trying to make strides. But often when people develop programming, they develop it for men. Even in prison, we had to wear men’s clothes and boots! There’s been a lot of talk lately about passing bills about sanitary napkins, because it never crossed their minds that we need those – that’s insane! So as people are coming home, our goal is to help fill those needs that were missing inside and continue to be missing outside, especially for women.
Who is the most inspiring woman in your life?
I would say my daughter, Zakiya. Just as a human being – outside of being my daughter – I have a lot of respect for her and who she’s become. She’s endured a lot of challenges and has persevered. She’s a freshman at the University of Cincinnati in engineering and has a full ride! And this is a young lady who had to deal with a mother with legal issues and the back-to-back loss of both grandparents [who were her caregivers]. She is one of the most resilient people I know. Just the fact that she was able to get through all of that and still be a kind person, have a job, and serve other people and her community – I think she is an amazing person.
What gives you hope for the future?
I get hope from knowing that there are opportunities for things to get better, knowing that our young people aren’t giving up. I was talking to my daughter and her friends about politics and these legislators that are just a little bit older than them who are engaging and who they can really connect with. And having conversations with them and seeing what they are learning in this process gives me hope – because they see things from a very different perspective than people my age. They’re not as judgmental. They see things beyond what a lot of other generations have seen and they have the confidence to change things. That gives me hope.
If you or a loved one need resources on incarceration or reentry after prison, you can find out more by clicking the links in the article, or going to any of the sites listed below:
Do you know an awesome woman of Cincy? Nominate her here! New features launch on Mondays.
Women of Cincy is a certified 501(c)3. This belongs to you. Consider supporting future stories with a donation.