“I Will Be Home Someday”: What MRRA's Rollout is Missing

By Andrew Fair, Research Intern

In prison, you plan your time around “flag time”—the periods when you are allowed out of your rooms. While I was at MCF-Faribault, most people spent flag time talking on the phone with family and friends, cooking meals, talking with each other, or playing card games. This time was meant to make us feel normal, but you also never knew when it would be cut short.

Flag time was also when things people said would get overheard and shared around. So in May of 2023, when news came that Minnesota had passed a prison reform bill that could affect just about everyone who was incarcerated, we were all excited. The problem with this is that, inside, rumors spread fast, but actual information moves slowly. 

The Minnesota Rehabilitation and Reinvestment Act (MRRA) is described by the Department of Corrections (DOC) as a program to “promote safety and personal transformation by incentivizing individuals to engage in services that have been proven effective in reducing misconduct and recidivism.” The idea is that, by working hard to rehabilitate oneself, incarcerated individuals can earn time off their sentences.

MRRA was sold to the public as a bill to lower prison spending and reinvest the savings back into communities, thus creating a safer Minnesota. Case managers, community leadership, victim advocacy groups, and those who were harmed had a voice in how this program would be implemented. Taxpayers would save by reducing the cost of operating prisons in Minnesota, as more people earning early release means fewer people are incarcerated.

On the inside, information on MRRA was blurry. People called their friends and family to learn more about this new program, and no two people would find the same information. Anytime someone asked the staff a question, the response was almost always the same: “I don’t know.”

In Minnesota, people convicted of a crime spend two-thirds of their sentence incarcerated, and the rest on supervision. To the public, the DOC reported that incarcerated individuals participating in MRRA could be released up to 17% earlier; on the inside, rumors spread that it could cut our time by up to 50%. No one seemed able to determine the requirements one needed to be eligible—time almost stood still as we waited for these details. Months would pass before the commissioner released a memo or posted a video, and every communication from the DOC made things more confusing to us. In prison, people need detailed and accessible information to prepare themselves for whatever opportunities are available, whether for their time inside or for their eventual release.

Most people who were incarcerated felt that there was an inherent conflict of interest with the commissioner in charge. “How could someone who is in charge of our incarceration be impartial in releasing those who qualify?” 

The schedule in the original bill gave the DOC an 18-24-month timeframe to create and begin implementing this program. Once again, this time ticked away slowly. For me and others, daily life had to go on as if we hadn’t just heard about this alluring possibility of earned release. It was almost heartbreaking to see those who have been working hard to change and want to be released back to their families realize they might not get that opportunity any earlier. “I will be home soon” reverted back to “I will be home someday”. 

“I will be home soon” reverted back to “I will be home someday”. 

As of now, we’re 36 months in, and only 15 people have been released in a pilot program. MRRA’s “slow rollout” was how the DOC justified so few people getting released.

Victims, advocacy groups, and the community should be part of the decision-making process. They deserve to be consulted about how a program like this can facilitate justice and accountability, while preparing participants for a successful return to the community. But when so many people’s sense of hope for their future hinges on a policy like MRRA, the least the DOC can do is be transparent and communicate well to the people on the inside, who are too often forgotten in these decisions.

What was supposed to bridge a gap for families has taken almost twice as long as promised. What was supposed to help bring resources to victims, their families, and incarcerated people continues to lack resources. This program held promise, but the poor communication, especially to those of us inside, began to undermine the hope it had restored.

Yet I know the hope hasn’t completely disappeared. People inside still want this program to work, to have a real chance at earning time off our sentences by becoming better people than we were when we got there. If the DOC improves its communication with the people the program stands to impact the most, MRRA can still be the reform that turns “someday” into “soon.”

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Andrew Fair is a student worker with TREC and the REBUILD Initiative, as well as the Sunshine Lady Foundation. While pursuing his graduate degree in Advocacy and Political Leadership at Metro State University, Andrew centers his work on restorative justice and community healing. He is dedicated to supporting justice-impacted individuals, empowering incarcerated fathers, and strengthening family bonds to drive meaningful prison reform and community growth.