Everyone Gets Out: Why Prison Education is Public Safety
And what I learned from a convicted killer about hope and transformation
Most people in prison today will be released eventually. That simple fact should shape how we think about incarceration—and especially about education behind bars.
I was reminded of this truth while reading Christopher Zoukis’ College for Convicts: The Case for Higher Education in American Prisons. In the introduction, Zoukis addresses a question that comes up often:
“Why should people in prison get a college education when law-abiding citizens struggle to pay for one?”
It’s a fair question. And Zoukis doesn’t dodge it. He acknowledges the anger some feel—why offer free college to people who harmed others? His answer is clear:
Because they get out.
If we treat people in prison like animals, we shouldn’t be surprised if they return to society angry, traumatized, and hardened. But if we offer education, structure, and a chance to rethink their lives, we equip them to return as citizens with something to give.
Research backs this up. A 2022 U.S. News article by Sarah Wood explains that postsecondary prison education lowers recidivism and improves job outcomes. Programs range from volunteer-led workshops to full degree-granting initiatives.
One of the most transformative programs I’ve studied is TUMI (The Urban Ministry Institute), seminary-level courses offered in prisons and jails by World Impact. I interviewed dozens of incarcerated men and women in TUMI. Many were serving life sentences. Most described the experience as life-changing. A few stories stood out.
A Man Condemned—and Transformed
David McMillan was 17 when he participated in a brutal hate crime that led to the murder of a young man in East Texas. He was sentenced to life. Nearly 30 years later, I met him as part of a research project exploring the impact of TUMI on incarcerated students.
At the time of our interview, I didn’t know the details of his past. What I saw was a thoughtful man, engaged in deep theological reflection, committed to mentoring others, and respected by peers. Later, I read a Vanity Fair article detailing the horrifying crime he committed as a teenager. The man I had met bore little resemblance to the one described in the article.
When I asked him what TUMI meant to him, he said simply:
“It’s changed what I’m livin’ for.”
“You have to give people hope. Because if they don’t have hope, they’ll follow whoever’s toughest. But when they see guys like the ones in this class—guys walking in the light—they see there’s a better way to live.”
The Ripple Effects of Prison Education
Others echoed this transformation:
“I used to be a speed-addict, alcoholic wife-beater. Now I’m a worship leader, ministering man of God—Amen!”
“I was frozen by insecurity and had no faith. Now I have a new identity.”
The UK scholar Ben Klementowski, once incarcerated himself, writes:
“Education aids personal development and improves well-being, creating a better prison environment. It also reduces reoffending, lowers costs, and supports reintegration into society.”
This is why prison education isn’t just a moral argument—it’s a practical one. It reduces future crime. It lowers costs. It strengthens communities.
And it saves lives, sometimes in the most unexpected places.
Let’s stop asking if people in prison deserve education. Let’s ask what kind of people we want returning to our communities.
👥 Join the Conversation
Have you seen education transform someone’s life—inside or outside prison? Let me know in the comments or message me directly. If you’re interested in supporting or learning more about prison education programs like TUMI, I’d love to connect.
