Source: reformalliance.com 12/1/25
When Noel Barrientos came home from federal prison in 2018, he believed the hardest part of his sentence was behind him. He had served three and a half years for a white-collar offense, and was eager to rebuild his life, reconnect with his two young daughters, and start a career.
But Noel was placed on federal supervision, which meant his newfound freedom was fragile. He left prison only to be followed by a long list of unhelpful rules and by a system that fails to promote stability.
He spent six months in a halfway house before beginning his supervision term. It was a trying time, and the rules of the house made it hard for him to see his daughters. He had to take two buses to get to his minimum wage job and then another two buses to get back to the house. “There were times when I was chasing after the bus,” he says. “Sometimes I’d miss it and get rained on.”
Still, he pressed on. He worked to rebuild his relationship with his wife and children. But even doing the most basic fatherly things, such as attending a family friend’s children’s birthday party, came with reminders that he wasn’t really free. His probation officer showed up wearing a bulletproof vest, gun in a holster, displaying a badge, and made Noel sign papers in full view of his kids and the other families.
He dreamed of working in real estate, but Florida’s occupational licensing rules bar people on state or federal supervision from obtaining a professional real estate license. So he found a creative workaround: he joined a real estate company in a recruiter role, building skills and connections until he could apply for his license after supervision ended. Any sensible system would encourage such ingenuity. But instead, his efforts collided with the reality of federal supervision.
Because Noel traveled between different offices as part of his job, his probation officer viewed his mobility with suspicion. The officer would routinely show up at…
This country is so lost. One nation, by the cops, and for the cops.