staceybooks

How would you like to be remembered by the worst thing you have ever done?

That question hit me hard today. In our work at Persevere, we see individuals every day who are remembered and judged by their lowest moments: an arrest record, a conviction, a mistake that may have lasted only seconds but shaped the rest of their lives. What is often missed are the unseen struggles that led to those moments.

During our company training, I found myself thinking more deeply about those unseen struggles. We can track statistics such as incarceration rates, employment barriers, and recidivism percentages. But what we cannot easily measure are the internal battles: undiagnosed mental health disorders, post-traumatic incarceration effects, imposter syndrome, and fear of failure. Those are not written in a file or captured in a dataset, yet they weigh just as heavily as the visible struggles we see.

Judge Clay Collins, in a powerful reflection about the death of a young man named Chase Scoggins, put words to this reality. Chase was 27 years old, deeply impacted by mental health challenges, and ultimately died alone in the woods. Jail was often the only place society had for him, not because it was right, but because there were no other options. His story was not just heartbreaking; it was predictable. In Judge Collins’ words, it was inevitable under a broken system that does not know what to do with people carrying invisible battles.

That is why the work we do at Persevere matters so much. We do not just provide training in technology pathways. We walk with people through their visible and invisible struggles. We believe no one should be forever defined by their worst mistake. Instead, they should be given tools, support, and hope to rewrite their future.

I know this firsthand, because I have lived it. My own past has shaped my empathy for those we serve. I understand what it means to carry shame, to feel unseen, and to fight battles that others do not always understand. It is why I refuse to look at the people we serve as statistics or labels. They are human beings with stories, struggles, and resilience that deserve to be honored.

The work is not easy. Sometimes it feels overwhelming. But every time I hear a graduate share their success story, or see a student gain confidence in themselves, I am reminded that this is the work of redemption. This is the work of remembering people not for their worst decisions, but for the potential they carry.

So again, I ask: how do you want to be remembered? I hope it is not by your lowest moment. And I pray we continue building a world where people like Chase, and the thousands like him, are remembered for their humanity, their courage, and their possibility, not just their pain.

Learn more: www.perseverenow.org