'I feel human again' — At three hotels, formerly incarcerated New Yorkers get the support they need

Fatima Salem lives in a Holiday Inn Express in Queens following her release from Rikers Island. Photos by Ilyssa Daly

By Ilyssa Daly

After 28 years in upstate prisons, Lawrence Palomino found himself gazing at the glittering chandeliers of a Midtown Manhattan hotel. It had been less than a week since he was released from Otisville Correctional facility in August.

“I'm still spellbound,” he said. “What did I do to deserve such hospitality?” 

Before arriving at the hotel, Palomino, 62, had spent half a day at the crowded Bellevue’s Men’s Shelter.  “[There] were so many homeless people, so many people who were hurting,” he recalled.  “People that just gave up in life.” He remembered being crammed into a tiny room on the sixth floor with a younger man who was “sitting with his legs crossed [and] was stinking so bad.” 

Palomino, who had tested negative for COVID-19 prior to his release, feared for his life.

He said he immediately left the room and told staff, “I can't [be here]. You’ve got to understand, I suffer from some form of Post Traumatic Stress [Disorder].” The PTSD, he explained, is due to his lengthy prison sentence. He slept for a few hours in a chair in the lobby that night. 

But he wasn’t the only one to walk through the revolving doors with wide eyes; everyone who currently resides in this hotel comes from either upstate prison facilities or Rikers Island. 

After thousands of people were released from prisons and jails throughout New York due to concerns over COVID-19, hundreds were left homeless. 

As a solution, the Mayor’s Office of Criminal Justice contracted with the nonprofit organization Exodus Transitional Community to set up three hotels in New York City in late March: The Wyndham Garden in Fresh Meadows, The Holiday Inn Express in Corona, and the Hotel Wolcott in Manhattan. The hotels, which are almost entirely staffed by formerly incarcerated people, have become transitory homes for anyone who is homeless upon their release from jail or prison. 

The sites are not considered part of the city’s shelter system, said Nora Reissig, the vice president of development and programs at Exodus. This is an unprecedented move, as Exodus is the only organization to open forensic reentry hotels in the city in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. The program, which hasn’t seen a positive test for COVID-19 in months, is due to close on Oct. 31, a short amount of time for people trying to restart their lives during a pandemic. 

Nevertheless, these hotels have faced significant criticism. 

Fear in Fresh Meadows

Community members in Fresh Meadows gathered in August outside the Wyndham Garden Hotel to protest the program. 

The protestors were part of a group called Fresh Meadows United, which lead organizer Kenneth Chiu described as “a group of concerned parents.” 

Chiu and protestors perceived an uptick in crime in their neighborhood and have shared rumors about who they believe are living in the hotels. 

“The[y] are not exactly the safest people,” said Chiu by phone. And he isn’t the only person who believes this. 

Chiu also said that community members had seen an uptick in crime around the neighborhood, which was refuted by the NYPD during a recent Community Advisory Board meeting. 

Exodus staff have repeatedly disputed the Fresh Meadows United assertions.

“One of the local police officers in Fresh Meadows publicly said there has been no change in the crime rate since people have been here in the hotel. There has been nothing that has changed,” said Jennifer Kaake, the Program Director of Common Unity at Exodus. 

‘Emergency Landing Pads’

More than 400 participants have made their way through the transitional hotels, and they are either on parole, probation or they have an open case, said Chaka Gary, the site coordinator who manages all three hotels. 

“Exodus’ mission is to end recidivism, as it relates to reentry services,” Gary added. “We’re providing case management services; we’re providing employment services; [and] we’re providing housing support services, in order for individuals to have a successful re-entry back into the community.” 

Alton Brown, is a case manager at the Holiday Inn Express and resident at the Wolcott in Manhattan.

Julio Medina, the founder and CEO of Exodus, said the hotel participants are “the lowest risk people you can imagine.” 

Medina said that only people who have been held on Rikers Island for low level crimes have been released early due to COVID-19 concerns. “For those [in prisons], they've been vetted because they've done time already, and they're on parole,” he said. “And, bottom line, [everyone is] looking for another chance at life.” 

Reissig, who acts as the liaison between Exodus and MOCJ, described the hotels as “emergency landing pads” for formerly incarcerated people, in order to “stem the spread of COVID among the jail and the prison population, because we know that the virus spreads much quicker [there].” 

All hotel participants must meet specific criteria in order to gain entrance into one of the hotels.

First, participants must be at least 18 years old. Then, they need to be released from a correctional facility in New York during the pandemic. Lastly, they must be deemed homeless.

“[There’s] a broad definition of homeless,” Reissig said. “We’ve had some people that maybe had some place to go but [they might have been] gang involved before they were incarcerated, and the place that they have to go is gang territory. They’re not interested in rejoining that life.”

“Well, then technically, they’re homeless because they can’t live in the home that they have,” she added.

Roy Clendinen, a resident of the Holiday Inn Express, was released from Greene Correctional Facility on April 30.

“If I wasn't here, I’d be on the subway,” Clendinen said “I just don't know what to expect from one day to the next.”

Clendinen, 58, said that he didn’t know what he would do if he was instructed to leave.

“Where am I going to go? I am literally homeless,” he said. 

All three hotels are staffed with multiple case managers who collectively work in eight=hour shifts. They are in the building from 8 a.m. to midnight. The case managers report to the resident aides, who work in either 24- or 36-hour shifts and rotate. They remain on-call in case of emergencies for their entire shifts and all of the RAs and case managers report to site coordinator Chaka Gary. 

For an extra eye, Exodus hired the security firm, Global Security Solutions, who have maintained an abounding presence in all three hotels. A number of nurses also work in daily 12-hour shifts at the hotels, along with a doctor who makes weekly visits to each of the hotels. 

The security team does a “vertical,” or routine search of the buildings every half hour, said the Director of Field Operations, Kenny Worrell. 

“They have to check throughout all the floors and make sure everything is alright and there’s no property damage,” he said.

Global Security team members are also told to look for weapons lying around — a problem that Worrell says they’ve never encountered — and to make sure no one is smoking in their rooms. There is also a guard placed on every floor of the hotels. “We [also] do wellness checks, and that's carried through Exodus,” Worrell said. Those checks usually occur in the evening if Exodus staff haven’t seen or heard from a person all day. “We have to make sure everybody is alright. We keep an eye on everything.” 

“We’re not here to be correction officers,” he added.

In the event that two participants are clashing, Worrell said that staff use various de-escalation methods to defuse any situations. “We’ll put one to the side [and] we take another one outside, and we speak to them.”

When the participants are “level-headed,” Worrell said they are brought back together to talk things out, apologize, and “go about their day.”

As for the nursing staff, they keep track and maintain documentation on all medical conditions, see hotel participants for their immediate needs, and refer them to the doctor that makes her rounds to all the hotels. The nursing staff additionally keeps abreast of any potential COVID-19 cases, and work with Exodus staff and security to ensure social distancing practices.

“As nurses in the medical field, we know that this is a very, very serious issue. We’d like [the participants] to understand the implications of that,” said Louisa Raghunandan, a nurse at the Wolcott. 

Raghunandan said everyone in the building is required to wear a mask in public spaces of the hotel.

“If I'm leaving this office to go downstairs even for a quick minute, I make sure [to wear a mask]. So does Exodus [staff] and so does security. They'll set an example, or [the participants] will think you're not serious about this.” she said.

Raghunandan also said that if someone is not wearing a mask, “security will definitely intervene.”

Free masks are offered to anyone who may not have one and temperatures are immediately taken whenever someone arrives at the hotels — including staff.

Anyone who has been released before their actual conditional release date, are placed in a mandatory 14-day quarantine. People are not allowed out of their rooms and food is delivered to their doors, said Angel Pagan, a case manager at the Wolcott. “People [come] suited up, completely masked up, and deliver the food. They come back, get sprayed down.” 

Surfaces are vigorously cleaned and hand washing is encouraged; the hotel rooms are even checked weekly for cleanliness. Residents can be discharged for repeatedly violating the COVID safety protocols, Raghunandan said. 

A lack of cleanliness is not the only thing a participant can lose their room over.

As soon as they arrive, participants are given a list of the rules by case managers, and must sign a contract stating that they understand they could lose their room if these rules are not followed. This same contract is plastered on walls and doors throughout the hotels. 

The rules are standard: drugs, weapons, theft, vandalism, loitering and physical altercations are prohibited, and anyone who participates in those activities “may be asked to leave the hotel,” per the contract.

Exodus also implemented a “No Guest Policy” in all three hotels, where outside visitors are not permitted inside, and participants are not allowed to be in each other’s rooms.  “We do not allow room visits because of social distancing,” Pagan said. 

Finding Common Ground with Staff

Keeping track of the rules may be difficult for some, Reissig said, but they receive a level of services not available at typical Department of Homeless Services shelters.

She said they need trauma-informed care from Exodus staff who have lived experience, as almost all staff have been touched by the criminal justice system. “They know what that's like. They understand the trauma that comes with incarceration. They have training to de-escalate people,” she said. 

“We’ve been there,” said Timothy Walton, an RA at the Wolcott. Walton, who spent 25 years in prison, spoke about what he and many others faced upon release. “The number one obstacle is fear,” he proclaimed. Walton said that many are apprehensive with trying to acquire money, find adequate resources, and obtain employment. “I know I was afraid when I first came out. Even though I had a job coming out, it’s just the fact of having been in so long. What if I don’t? What if I can’t?” 

He, along with other Exodus staff members, are not shy when it comes to sharing their experiences with hotel participants. “Once we’re able to tell them our story, sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t, and they still need to see it for themselves. But to hear it, and to know that some of these guys have [gone] through that same obstacle that I went through, is kind of reassuring for them.” 

Shawn Boyd, an RA at the Wyndham Garden, recalled many slack-jawed reactions he received from participants when they found out he served 30 years in prison. But, Boyd, who is also a resident at the Holiday Inn Express, said it’s enough for people to listen to him. “It can be challenging at times, coming home from prison and being in an environment that exists only in prison, and then having to make the adjustments out here,” he said. 

Palomino recounted how he was incredulous after recognizing his case manager at the Hotel Wolcott. “[I asked him,] do I know you?” Palomino recalled, and he was reminded that they spent time in prison together. “I didn’t see him for probably over 18 years,” he said. “He was a real problem child [then],” Palomino added. “[The staff] are the inspiration. They were like me; they were like us at one time, and look at them now.” 

The hotels, though, are not without incidents. Medina spoke about an instance where one of the maids found a gun in a participant’s room. That participant was not allowed back into the hotel. And at the Wolcott, Pagan recalled how a participant was immediately discharged from the hotel after he punched someone in the face. “Other people who have had to get kicked out of the hotel were bringing women to the room, or they were getting high, and this was their third time and they were drunk,” Medina said. 

Kaake explained that unrealistic expectations of perfection might have been placed onto the hotels by some community members. “We know the issues and the really chronic problems that people who are incarcerated often face and substance use is one and mental health is another, and that they're really not addressed while they're in facilities. If nothing else, they're probably made worse when they're in facilities. So when they come home, that doesn't just go away, and we have to really pour services and people have to want them,” she said.  We have a lot of hard work to do to try and undo the decades worth of abuse and mistreatment of people who are being incarcerated [have faced].” 

Walton explained that many participants have expressed fear of being discharged, because they don’t have anywhere else to stay. “It’s not a scare tactic,” he said. “But we want them to know that this is not the place [for inappropriate behavior].” 

Homeless Shelter Horror Stories 

Anyone who has gained entry to the hotels have found out in a number of ways.

Some said they were notified before they left the correctional facility; others said that their lawyers notified them of the program. But they are all unanimous in one thing: the city’s shelter system is not conducive for rebuilding their lives.

They’ve all said these re-entry hotels, on the other hand, have shown them blueprints for success. And for the people who’ve been shuffled in and out of correctional facilities or shelters for years, they say it’s the first sign they’ve had in a long time. 

Take Darryl Jackson, a resident at the Wyndham Garden, who described the conditions at several shelters he stayed in as horrible and dirty environments, where drugs were rampant. “It's no place to live,” the 65 year old said. “When I was in the shelter, I stayed in the street more than I was in the shelter. I’d rather sleep on the train or in the street.” 

Jackson, who was released early from Greene Correctional Facility in May, said he is in the process of getting employed. “If you’re around a negative atmosphere, then you're going to do negative things. And to me, I’m around a good atmosphere,” he proclaimed. “So, I’m trying to do good things. I’m tired of going to jail, and I’ve retired from crime, drugs. I’m tired of somebody telling me when to go to sleep, when to wake up, and what I got to eat. I want to be free,” he added. 

Michael Little said the holiday inn express and the staff of exodus provide a level of safety and security he didn’t have at a shelter.

There are many more stories that mirror Jackson’s, as he isn’t the only person who’d rather be on the street than in a shelter.

A resident of the Holiday Inn Express, Michael Little, said he felt unsafe in a shelter when people fought over food. “People [would be] breaking into your locker when you were out trying to get a job, [and], you’d come back and find [your possessions] gone,” he said. “People are stealing your stuff. You might have your phone, your money, your clothes, brand new sneakers—they don't care at all.” 

Little, who was released from Rikers on April 3, said prior to violating his parole, he lived on the E train, where he slept and traveled to various churches and soup kitchens for his meals. He, like many other hotel participants, is on his own in New York.

“Some people like me, they’ve burned their bridges. My mom and pops are gone. My sister and brother, everybody moved away. All my kids are grown and they all live in Florida and Houston. I’m still here in New York. I think about it every night,” Little said. 

Then there are those who may not have been to a shelter, but have been in similar situations. Rafael Ruiz, who is at the Wyndham Garden, said he was informed by one of the “guidance counselors” at Riverview Correctional Facility because he hadn’t provided them with “a viable address.” Ruiz, a recovering heroin addict, said he was apprehensive about the program at first, as he recalled a brief stay at a three-quarter house from years ago: “Everybody’s using drugs. You wake up to a guy shooting dope next to you and a guy smoking crack next to you,” he said. “It’s like the inmates are running the asylum. You’re not protected.” 

It is part of Ruiz’s parole stipulations that he must complete an out-patient drug rehabilitation program and find employment. After he arrived at the Wyndham Garden, he said he realized that the hotel allowed him the opportunity to get a little bit of peace so he could focus on getting his life together. 

As for other participants, many of whom have open court cases, were notified about these hotels through their lawyers. After Roberto Centeno made bail and left Rikers Island, his lawyer suggested that he try out the hotels. Centeno, who stays at the Holiday Inn Express, expressed uneasiness at the prospect of staying in a shelter.  “I'm bound to come back. I might as well make reservations because I’m bound to go back to jail,” he said. 

Kaake believes the power in the hotels rely on the fact that participants “have their own space as opposed to being in a shelter.”

Kaake, who helped coordinate the hotels in their early stages, mentioned instances where people told her that they have never felt safe when they’ve been released. But now, these same people have said this time feels different for them.

“If they did a couple years at Rikers and they got released, [many] knew that they would have to go into a shelter where they never felt safe.” she said. “[It’s been] transformative for a lot of people” to experience the safety of “hav[ing] their own space with a door that they can close and know that nobody else is coming in.” 

Fatima Salem, who has been staying at the Holiday Inn Express, spoke about the importance of having her own space after spending eight months in a crowded dorm on Rikers Island. “I was so grateful that the bed was comfortable. I could finally sleep,” she recalled. “The beds [at Rikers] are horrible, they’re on metal, and it breaks your back, it breaks your neck. Just the ability to rest after such a hard and long experience was my number one [priority].” 

Wyndham Garden resident Daniel McFadden described the Bellevue Men’s Shelter as “a regular drug store,” that had more narcotics than the street. “For so many people here like myself, the only thing that was missing on coming back to the outside world was a place to live,” said McFadden, who had been released from Cayuga Correctional Facility on April 29. “You appreciate a place like this, instead of being out on the street or in the shelter sharing sleeping quarters areas and bathrooms.”

Hotel Wolcott resident Macio Santelli recounted how he was grateful for the privacy he’d been granted. “It gives me peace of mind to know that I have a place to rest my head. A little stability where right now I don't have much,” he said. Santelli, who had been incarcerated over a parole violation, spoke about how Exodus helped find him a job: “It's temporary but it's something.” 

Successful Reentry

As far as transitory services, Exodus has been providing reentry programs since the organization’s inception in 1999. Hotel participants are encouraged to visit the organization’s headquarters in Harlem where they can attend various workshops that range from job assistance and employment readiness, to addressing substance abuse, to even guidance on reconnecting with family members. 

“I feel like I'm a human beinG,” said wyndham garden resident James Price.

Participant James Price said the environment and services compel him get his life together.

“I feel like I'm a human being. Now, I feel like I'm American. But before, I didn't feel like I was American when I was [homeless], because of the way they had stuffed us up inside the shelters, all clogged up,” said the 58 year-old Wyndham Garden resident, who was released from Ulster County Correctional Facility in early May. But before Price arrived at the hotel, “[it felt] like everybody gave up on [us].” 

Case managers and RAs are trained to connect hotel participants to whatever immediate resources they may need. “You name it, we try to fulfill every need of anybody that's coming home from prison that has absolutely nothing. The concept is dealing with a person who is absolutely on zero,” explained Pagan. 

“We have a storage room,” said Rafael Rivera, a case manager at the Wyndham Garden. I'll take [down someone’s] sizes and get them clothes. We also have hygiene packs, and we get them toothpaste, toiletries, and everything that you could just imagine. Cell phones are even given out so people “are able to connect to their network of support,” said Reissig. Metrocards for essential travel are additionally provided. Food is also on hand in all the hotels; participants are able to grab breakfast, lunch, and dinner at their leisure. 

Before anyone is connected to necessary resources, all participants go through an intake process, so Exodus staff can adequately address their needs. There are a variety of questions asked, such as a person’s age, what facility they came from, the length of their incarceration, what they think their needs are, and if they have any mandates from parole or probation. Participants are also asked about their medical history as well. The documentation kept on each participant is updated daily. 

Angel Rosado, a resident at the Holiday Inn Express, said he has benefitted from the groups and services that exodus offers.

Case managers in the hotels are trained for a variety of situations. Many are tasked with fixing the Medicaid status of participants. “We [also] help them get their social security cards replaced. We have to get their New York State IDs replaced. I know some guys who are trying to get back their driver's licenses. Without certain documentation, you can't get a job,” said Pagan. Case managers even help connect participants with housing specialists, so they can try and find permanent housing. RAs have case managing duties as well, as they offer additional support to case managers. 

Though case managers do attempt to make contact with the participants they are assigned to each day, they are not constrained to their caseload.

“We’re peer educators, we're teachers. We're your friends. We’re a social network. We're your brothers when you need us, someone that you can talk to, someone you can lean on, someone who's here to help you,” said Walton, the RA at the Wolcott. “We’re just not [your] mother or father, [nor] the parole officer.” 

Jannet Tollinche, a case manager at the Holiday Inn Express, recalled a moment she shared with a participant who came over to her in tears. A

fter the two of them talked, Tollinche realized that their fathers passed away in the same year. “I can understand her, because I went through the same [struggles] for a number of years. I just wanted to close my eyes and just run away; I couldn't take it anymore,” Tollinche said. 

“We started sharing ideas [on how to cope with hardships], what her feelings were, how we could relate to each other,” she continued. “You can come to me for anything. If I can’t assist you, I will refer you to someone who can, because I'm here with you. I understand your pain. The same shoes you walked in, I walked the same." 

As for the hotel participants trying to rebuild their lives, many have said they are working, attending programs, or completing Exodus workshops. 

Angel Rosado, a resident at the Holiday Inn Express, spoke of the drug rehabilitation programs he attended over Zoom and the lengthy time it’s taken him to get sober.

“As a person that's on parole, I’ve had to learn how to respect society, and try to be part of that society. [But I] just can't put on the clothes and stand in the group, [I] have to be a part of the group,” he said. “[Being in the hotel] makes me feel like I'm not a person they've forgotten about.” 

Other hotel participants, like Saul Tufino, started internships at nonprofits like Housing Works. “We're here because we made a lot of unhealthy choices in life. But most people here, we don't exhibit bad habits anymore, and we're trying to do the right thing,” said Tufino, who served over three years in prison on a robbery charge. “We're trying to get it together, and we just need a second chance.” 

Anger and Action

While these forensic reentry hotels appear to be impactful for participants and staff alike, Kenneth Chiu and Fresh Meadows United reportedly disagree. “Obviously, the community is in shock. We don't know who these people are. Just imagine someone coming into your house without previously telling you so, or knocking on your door, and you find out overnight that there are individuals living in that hotel that were formerly incarcerated,” Chiu said. “Fresh Meadows is a quiet, peaceful, middle class neighborhood.” 

Chiu referred to the fact that the hotel participants have “broken the law,” and have served time. “People associate with those that have gone to jail before as bad guys,” he said. “Normal people would immediately start to get nervous because they are used to Fresh Meadows being a nice, quiet community.”  

Chiu said community members feared they would be in close contact with people who have been convicted of sex offenses. Chiu referenced the New York State Sex Offender Registry as where he received his information. The registry shows the addresses of people who have been convicted of more severe offenses, which are classified as either Level 2 or Level 3. Chiu alleged that there were two people staying at the Wyndham Garden whose offenses were classified as Level 2. 

But, a quick search into the database produced much different results. As of August to mid- September, no one staying at any of the three hotels had been convicted of a sexually based offense that was classified as either Level 2 or Level 3. As of now, however, multiple people convicted of sex offenses are staying at the Holiday Inn Express. Only one person is staying at the Wyndham Gardens in Fresh Meadows. 

“We try really hard not to label people,” said Reissig.

She spoke about a man in his 40s that Exodus was preparing to receive. When he was 17, he took part in a gang sexual assault against a young woman. She described the incident, which took place 30 years ago, as part of a gang initiation.

“He has this label, it was a horrible thing. And then it was terrible for the victim. It was definitely something at that time that merited the action that the criminal justice system took,” she said. “[These people] paid their debt to society [and] have shown rehabilitation, otherwise they would not have been allowed out on parole.” 

“There [are] no facilities dedicated to help these individuals,” Chiu said. “Why Fresh Meadows? Besides, they have a Wyndham Garden that is not doing too well in business,” he quipped. Chiu, though, was quick to distance himself from his statements, saying, “People have that stigma. I don't, okay? But many people do.” 

Chiu was hard to miss in his light blue shirt as he stood in front of the crowd that gathered in front of the Wyndham Hotel in early August. As he clutched a clipboard in one hand, and grasped a megaphone at one point in his other hand, he and protestors chanted phrases like “Save our Community!” and “Shut them down!”

Medina believes that the community pushback against the Wyndham Garden has more to do with racism than actual fear. “They disguise it in your crime, but what [they] need to say is, ‘I don't want Black or brown people in my community at no time and I want to preserve the dignity of white supremacy,’” he said. 

Alton Brown, a case manager at the Holiday Inn Express and resident at the Wolcott, recognized how difficult it is for many people to start from scratch.

“You have people coming out and [are] really trying to get their lives together, even though this is their third, fourth, fifth time back and forth to prison,” he said. Brown was released from Sing Sing Correctional Facility in May after serving 25 years in prison. “We have a tendency that when we're ignorant, we want to paint not only this person, but everybody who's been stigmatized with the same brush,” Brown explained. 

“Society has a choice here,” said Reissig. “They can continue to shun them and [try to] kick them out of their neighborhoods, or they can help to support their reentry. Maybe, they’ll get a job at the restaurant you eat at, [and] they’re serving you your food. They're taking the train with you. They’re taking the bus with you. You're not getting rid of these people; they're your neighbors.” 

“[To them], I'm just another statistic. They don’t know my story,” Palomino said. “I'm trying to take advantage of every opportunity because I don't want to end up back in prison. I can't allow myself. I won't allow myself.”