Source: prisonerswithchildren.org 3/25/25
Being released from incarceration was supposed to be a step toward freedom, but the reality of wearing an ankle monitor made it feel like another form of imprisonment. The heavy, restrictive device clamped around my ankle was more than just an inconvenience—it was painful, physically damaging, and emotionally degrading.
One of the first issues I encountered was the physical harm caused by the monitor. The device was bulky, and with every step, it rubbed against my skin. Within days, painful blisters formed, making walking difficult. The irritation worsened as sweat and movement caused the raw skin to break open, leading to infections and constant discomfort. No amount of padding or repositioning seemed to help—this was a device designed for control, not for the well-being of the person wearing it.
Beyond the physical damage, wearing the monitor in public spaces was humiliating. People stared, some with curiosity, others with judgment. I could feel their assumptions: criminal, dangerous, untrustworthy. Every time I stepped outside, I was marked—not by my actions, not by my character, but by this visible sign of surveillance. It reinforced the idea that even after release, society still saw me as someone who had to be controlled. The psychological toll of this was heavy, making it harder to reintegrate, find employment, and simply exist without shame.
When I was released from prison onto parole, I had to wear an ankle monitor. It was snug enough where it didn’t rub. Charging was a pain due to the fact if I moved wrong the cord would fall off due to the magnets not being that strong. I wore jeans and larger socks all the time to hide it.
It was a relief to get it taken off at the end of my parole. I was shocked that my parole officer was on vacation when I went in. Found out he had no worries about me. I asked myself, then why the monitor after the first month.
Ankle monitors need to go. It stops nothing. It achieves nothing. I continued to be amazed in this day and age that people still don’t understand or care about actual, real attempts at rehabilitation. They would rather do nothing and continue risk to the community. It really is not difficult. Hold to account, absolutely. Offer help, a must. It may not always work, but is the best shot we’ve got.