Guest Commentary written by

Stanford Chatfield

Stanford Chatfield is an historical interpreter at Alcatraz for the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy. He was incarcerated 35 years.

At 69 years old, I wake up every morning excited to go to work as an historical interpreter at Alcatraz. I leave home each day with a huge smile on my face, knowing I’ll meet people from around the world and share the complex history of this island. 

It’s meaningful work that values my perspective — including the 35 years I spent behind bars in a state penitentiary.

Though I’ve made progress since my release last year from the Correctional Training Facility in Monterey County, I’ve fallen far behind others my age. My peers have built retirement savings and Social Security credits during their prime earning years, while I was working in prison making 28 cents an hour.

While I served time, I worked as a college enrollment clerk, coordinating and organizing course materials for incarcerated students and staff. I loved the work. The pay? Not so much. When I was released, I was broke and bewildered.

California’s reentry system, like its incarceration system, is broken. The state invests too little in inmates — paying them pennies for their work — and not enough in effective programs that help them reenter society. 

In one year the state spends a staggering $133,000 to incarcerate one person — more than twice the University of Southern California’s tuition. Though about 40,000 people come home from prison each year, nearly half end up back behind bars within three years. 

This endless cycle drains taxpayer resources without improving public safety.

While incarcerated, I was one of the top earners; many guys there were making just 8 cents an hour. They should be paid at least minimum wage and be given opportunities for advancement. 

When I got out, I could have easily fallen through the cracks. For the longest time I didn’t know what my purpose was, but I made a commitment to honesty and integrity in all my affairs.

I’m starting over with a decades-old criminal record. The odds weren’t in my favor — until Creating Restorative Opportunities and Programs, or CROP, accepted me into Ready 4 Life, a year-long fellowship. It offered me job training and dignity. I developed technical skills and a positive mindset. 

About 95% of CROP participants don’t reoffend. Yet CROP’s future is uncertain. Given the ups and downs of the state budget, programs like CROP don’t always get steady investment.

I chose to train in UX (user experience) design for developing websites and computer apps, because technology had passed me by during my incarcerated years. Just learning those digital foundations opened doors I never imagined, even for my Alcatraz job. 

A person with gray hair stands indoors by a barred window, resting one arm on the ledge. They wear a blue shirt layered under a black vest with a badge that reads “Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy” and “Stanford.” Light from the window highlights their face, while the peeling paint on the bars suggests an older building.
Stanford Chatfield is an historical interpreter at Alcatraz. People sometimes ask about his 35 years in prison. Photo courtesy of Stanford Chatfield

The program’s real value came from the connections I made, including some formerly incarcerated individuals who had succeeded and some business leaders. 

When CROP’s employment specialist found a job posting for an assistant tour guide at Alcatraz, I took a leap of faith. In my cover letter, I wrote: “I’m a formerly incarcerated individual, and I believe I can bring a unique and valuable perspective to this position.”

It worked. During my interview on a rainy day, they told me to explore the island while they decided. My phone rang an hour later. “Are you still here? We want you,” they said.

I knew my life had truly changed. What started as seasonal work became permanent. Now I interpret Alcatraz’s history and support myself on about $25 an hour, and my experience gives me credibility that can’t be taught.

Thanks to CROP and employers willing to see beyond my record, I’m doing meaningful work that values my whole story. That’s what the dignity of work should look like for everyone coming home.