Legal Empowerment: "It Was Freedom."

“There was a time in my life when I couldn’t imagine anything different… I was in and out of jail, addicted, ashamed, and convinced I’d never be more than my mistakes.” These were the words of Andrea, a local mother and participant in the 100 Families Initiative, as read aloud by her Family Advocate Brionna Palmer.

Andrea’s story is one of many, but it’s a vivid reminder of what’s at stake for families in crisis. Through the support of community partners and legal assistance, Andrea’s criminal records were sealed. She now holds a steady job and is rebuilding her life—one step, one success at a time.

“I can’t explain what it felt like,” Andrea wrote. “It wasn’t just paperwork. It was freedom. It was finally being able to breathe without the weight of my past suffocating me.”

Her words set the tone for a powerful conversation at the Craighead Alliance Meeting, where legal professionals, advocates, and community leaders gathered to explore the role the justice system plays in either trapping families in generational crisis—or helping them break free.

The panel discussion that followed highlighted how the legal system can be both a barrier and a bridge. Tom Haynes, Assistant City Attorney, offered insight into his role as a prosecutor.

“A lot of what I find my role as prosecutor being is trying to figure out; is this a case, one, where a person is just stuck in a cycle of making mistakes… or is this person someone who truly is harming other people?”

It’s a question that cuts to the heart of justice—how to distinguish between those who need punishment and those who need a path to healing.

David Wessell, a substance abuse counselor and drug court graduate, knows that path firsthand.

“You don't plan for those things to happen,” Wessell said, reflecting on his own journey through PTSD, addiction, and court involvement. “I don’t do things thinking, like, yeah I’m going to lose a house and lose some relationships and lose respect for myself... That’s the danger zone.”

But Wessell credits drug court—and the people behind it—for giving him the tools to turn things around.

“They just, they gave me exactly what I needed, and that's just holding people accountable, being sympathetic… You know sympathy is empathy in action, kind of thing. So when you have the opportunity to spread that, I'm telling you, it goes really far. And it might not take anything, it's just five minutes of your time and it can change somebody's life, I promise you.”

Haynes warned that in Arkansas, missing a court date—even unintentionally—can lead to a suspended driver’s license. For families without transportation or legal representation, that single misstep can spiral into lost jobs, missed childcare pickups, and more court trouble.

Lee Richardson, Executive Director of Legal Aid of Arkansas, offered a broader perspective on the systemic challenges.

“Arkansas has the worst landlord-tenant laws in the world,” he said. “It’s the only place in the world, Arkansas is, where it’s a crime to not pay your rent.”

With limited resources and one of the lowest attorney-to-resident ratios in the country, Arkansas families often navigate legal crises alone. Richardson said Legal Aid focuses on four main areas: access to housing, domestic justice, consumer rights, and economic justice. Even within those, the need often exceeds their ability to respond.

“We're able to advise them of their rights and responsibilities, and it may very well be that they do need to get out but then you can buy them some time so they can be rehoused and not just be homeless on the street.”

The impact of legal challenges isn’t limited to courtrooms—it often begins with a police encounter.

Chief Rick Elliott of the Jonesboro Police Department shared how he’s worked to rebuild community trust since becoming chief in 2014.

“Let's get out of the car, engage the community in positive means, make those connections, build those bridges, and start creating trust.”

Through programs like the Citizen Police Academy and mental health crisis intervention training, the department is slowly changing perceptions—both among officers and residents.

Their public information officer, Sally Smith, emphasized the small, human moments that build trust.

“We’re there on the family’s worst days,” Smith said. “And we’re not the enemy.”

“We cannot arrest our way out of society’s problems,” Chief Elliott added. “Real change happens in the community.”

From sealed records to second chances, the message of the Craighead Alliance Meeting was clear: justice isn’t just about punishment—it’s about possibility.

Each speaker—whether a lawyer, police chief, or person in recovery—underscored that transformation doesn’t come from isolation. It comes from connection. This was the overwhelming theme of the Craighead Alliance Meeting, as speakers gave tips and personal stories about the legal system, each one reminded attendees that the work happens in the community and that is where the biggest changes will be made.