Through The Doe Fund’s partnership with the City Cleanup Corps, we are able to extend the paid work opportunities and supportive services of Ready, Willing & Able to people living outside of our residences. This means, for the first time ever, we are able to provide these crucial interventions to women. Though such work programs are not traditionally associated with women, the truth is that Work Works—for everyone.
Devin Cambridge, one of these trailblazing pioneers, recently shared her story with us.
I’ve always prided myself on being driven. On being a hard worker. My mom—my role model—worked two jobs so I could go to a private school. I felt the responsibility to honor her sacrifice by achieving.
I was a competitive swimmer as a kid, and I’ve had jobs since I was 14. By 25, I was a program director, developing swimming programs for children with special needs. But despite all this success, one thing I never learned was how to cope with loss. With grieving. And that ended up taking me to some very dark places.
Our family was tight-knit, so when I lost my father and grandmother in a four day timespan, I spiraled emotionally—leading me to actions that, in turn, resulted in five years of incarceration.
I knew things would never be the same, even once I was released. So in that time, I took advantage of every opportunity I had once I was back on the other side. I worked at the DMV, became a supervisor and then a peer resource counselor.
When I was released, I was eager to work. And with my vast experience, level of education, and dedication, I thought getting a job would be a cinch. I would go on interviews, and everybody kept talking about how I can’t be discriminated against because I’ve been incarcerated.
The reality is different. No, they won’t ask the question on your application. Yes, you may be hired on your merits—for the moment. But the discrimination is still very real. It’s just moved from the application itself to the background check, when employers have the right to say ‘no.’
And it’s not just employers—it’s an entire broken system stacked against you. Despite everything I did to show my value as a hard worker and the progress I made emerging from the dark place I was once in, the DoJ even wrote a letter to a company that hired me, encouraging them to terminate the agreement. So much for justice.
I was defeated, discouraged, and depressed. Thank God it was around this time when a family friend let me know that The Doe Fund was hiring people to be part of the City Cleanup Corps.
I didn’t know that women could be part of The Doe Fund’s programs—she told me this was a brand-new thing—but I was willing to do anything. After all, a start is a start. I began work with the City Cleanup Corps one week later and I took off running.
This was my first hands-on, manual labor job outside of incarceration. And I was okay with that—in fact, it helped restore my faith in humanity. You see, people in NYC have been so supportive of us and our work. They’re so familiar with The Doe Fund, but so unfamiliar with the idea of women being in the program that I get stopped four or five times a day. And I’ve run into so many women who donate to The Doe Fund that are ecstatic to hear that I’m part of it. They’ve cheered me on from Day 1, making a point to come out to encourage me.
This work has been a saving grace. It’s not just that The Doe Fund has been a support system. It’s that it has given me the opportunity to be a support system and give back to the family members who supported me during my incarceration, especially my mom.
She and I get up at 4 AM every day. We drive from her house in White Plains, where I live, to the city just so I can get to work on time. I give it my all every day, because I know that this work can open doors—whether that’s through a position at The Doe Fund or with someone else who sees my ethic and determination. There are so many business owners that watch us work, and you never know who will notice you.
Obviously, the City Cleanup Corps is just a stepping stone. My main goal is to be some type of recruiter and motivator for young women who are experiencing what I experienced trying to reenter society. I want to make a positive impact on women and show them with my deeds that there are people who care.
I hope that The Doe Fund creates more opportunities for women to join its programs. There are so many young women in the shelter system, so many mothers and families that need an opportunity, and they don’t have work experience so they’re not getting hired anywhere. This partnership with the City Cleanup Corps gives the opportunity to build work experience and make connections. You can get a letter of reference. You can get access to supportive services like career training and case management.
But maybe the most important thing you can get is a reminder that you’re not invisible. You’re not alone. You matter. The Doe Fund is one of those places that genuinely cares—and it showed me that New Yorkers care about each other. I want to send this message to other people who don’t know where to go to find a support system.
The support system has been instrumental to my growth, especially my relationship with my case manager. She has been a fierce advocate, an unending well of encouragement, and a force pushing me forward through barriers. I’ve never experienced anything quite like that, even in a family as close as mine. And there are no programs like this where I live. It’s why I travel 90 minutes to work with The Doe Fund and the City Cleanup Corps. This is something major, and I’m proud to be a part of it.