Second chances in real time: How a speakers’ program for prison inmates is changing lives and minds

Tamara Molleson has observed it time and time again: men who arrive at Joyceville Minimum Institution defeated, weighed down by the wreckage of their past, and unsure if redemption is possible.

But then they join the LINKS program and something shifts.

“I’ve seen people come in with no hope and leave with their heads held high,” says Tamara, a programs manager at CSC and one of the key facilitators of the LINKS program. “What we do isn’t just about giving them a second chance, it’s about helping them build a life worth living. The transformation is incredible.”

The LINKS program, which stands for Letting Inmates Network Knowledge in Schools, chaperones male offenders incarcerated at Joyceville Minimum to speak face-to-face with students in high school classrooms, group homes, and post-secondary institutions across Ontario. It’s designed to foster empathy, accountability, and understanding for both the audiences and the men who volunteer to speak.

For the men, it’s a chance to confront the darkest chapters of their lives and use their stories to steer young people away from similar mistakes. For the students, it’s a raw, unfiltered glimpse into the criminal justice system and a reminder that incarceration doesn’t erase a person’s humanity.

The program is highly selective. Offenders must have demonstrated exemplary institutional behavior for at least six months, possess a high level of insight into their crimes, and show a genuine willingness to share their stories to prevent others from making the same mistakes.

And for those offenders who are eligible to apply, the process to get approved is rigorous, involving interviews, mock presentations, and approval from each offender’s case management team. For the men who do make it through the approval process, the experience can be life-changing.

Owning the unthinkable: a father confronts the darkest moment of his life

Raj still doesn’t fully understand how his life unraveled the way it did. Raised in India, he came to Canada in 1984 hoping to build a better life for himself and his family. He got married, had children, and built a promising career.

But then drugs entered his life, first as a trafficker, then as a consumer, and everything began to collapse as his addiction consumed him. One night, in the grip of his addiction and rage, Raj shot and killed his wife.

“I still don’t understand how I could do what I did,” he told students at Algonquin College. His voice cracked as he recounted the night he took the life of the woman he loved. “There’s no excuse for it.”

The students sat in stunned silence, the weight of Raj’s words settling in the room like heavy fog. One student later wrote on a feedback form, “I can’t even begin to imagine the suffering and regret you must have for the terrible events that resulted in your arrest. My thoughts and prayers are with you and all those impacted by this heartbreaking loss.”

In prison, Raj vowed to change. He went cold turkey off drugs and immersed himself in spirituality and higher education. He began volunteering in prison programs and trying to make amends for what he did.

When the LINKS program approached him to be a speaker, he wasn’t sure if he could do it. Facing a room full of young people and admitting the worst thing he had ever done seemed unbearable. But then he thought about his sons with whom he was working on reconciling, and the possibility that his story might prevent someone else from making the same mistakes.

When he began to speak about his addiction, his downward spiral, and the devastating consequences of his actions, something unexpected happened. The students leaned in. They asked thoughtful, piercing questions. They weren’t there to judge him, they wanted to understand him.

“The first time I spoke to a group of students, I could barely get through it,” he admitted. “But then I realized, if one person can change because of my story, it’s worth it.”

Today, Raj has been sober for 12 years. He’s working toward his eventual release and dreams of the day he can reunite with his children. But he knows his story will always carry the weight of what he did, and he’s willing to bear that weight if it means making a difference.

From self-destruction to self-awareness: a message of warning and hope

Greg’s story is different but no less harrowing. He grew up in what he describes as a “good middle-class home,” but by his early 20s, he was deep into substance abuse as a coping mechanism for managing difficult emotions.

Eventually, his choices caught up with him, leading to his arrest and a lengthy prison sentence for second-degree murder and arson. Greg remembers the first night he spent in a maximum-security prison, staring at the concrete walls, realizing his life was over.

But prison, in a strange way, saved him, forcing him to confront himself for the first time after he was already several years into his sentence. “A family member had just beaten cancer, and from that point I realized I didn’t want to die in prison,” he says.

“There was too much happening outside that I was missing and could see a path out, if I could only get out of my own way.”

When he was offered a spot in the LINKS program, Greg jumped at the opportunity. Standing in front of students, he tells them exactly how easy it is to fall into a criminal lifestyle, and how brutally hard it is to get out.

One student wrote after his presentation, “Hearing your story made me realize how thin the line is between a normal life and a criminal one. You showed me that you can have everything on the surface and still feel completely lost inside. That really stuck with me.”

Tamara has watched countless students walk into a LINKS session with hardened views about criminals, and leave with tears in their eyes. “They come in thinking inmates are just ‘bad people,’” she said. “And then they hear their stories and realize, these are human beings who made catastrophic mistakes, but they’re still human.”

Criminal justice and behavioural science students gain firsthand insights into the human side of incarceration, lessons that will shape their future careers. One student shared, “As a future law enforcement officer, this experience completely shifted how I see offenders. They’re not just case files, they’re people with families, pain, and the ability to change.”

At-risk youth often leave the presentations visibly shaken, suddenly hyper-aware of the real-life consequences of substance abuse and poor decision-making.

“They see someone standing there, not just a criminal, but a father, a son, a human being, who lost everything because of one choice,” Tamara says. “And it hits them hard.”

For the men, the program represents something even deeper: a form of restorative justice. By standing in front of a classroom and owning the worst thing they’ve ever done, they begin to reclaim and, in some cases, forgive, themselves.

Tamara believes that the magic of the LINKS program is in its rawness. There’s no script, no sugar-coating, just men standing in front of a room full of strangers, baring their souls.

“I’ve had students come up to me after and say, ‘I’ll never touch drugs again,’ or ‘I’ll think twice before making that bad decision,’” she said. “And I’ve had offenders say, ‘That was the first time I felt like a human being in years.’”

The LINKS program is a constant reminder that while they can never undo what they’ve done, they can still do something meaningful with their lives.

As the men pack up after another school presentation, Tamara watches them closely. She sees the way they walk a little taller after speaking, as if, in some small way, the weight of their past has been lessened.

“This is what accountability looks like,” she says. “And this is what redemption looks like.

“Does change happen overnight? No. Can change happen for everybody? Yes, if they are ready for it, I firmly believe it can.”

Support resources

For victims of crime

If you’re a victim of crime, CSC’s Victim Services provides resources to support victims. To learn more

• Information for victims - Canada.ca

For CSC employees

If you’re a CSC employee who has experienced trauma, there are resources available to support you at all times. This includes:

• Mental health and wellness - Canada.ca
• Employee wellness - Canada.ca
• Commissioner's update for correctional employees: October 6, 2025 - Canada.ca
• EAP referral agents  and Telus Health
• Guideline 253-2: Critical incident stress management - Canada.ca
• PSPNET
• Ombuds for workplace well-being - Canada.ca
• 9-8-8: Suicide Crisis Helpline