STARTING OVER

THIS IS WHERE it begins: in a portable classroom, behind the wire at
the Jessup women's prison. This is how it begins: 15 women meeting
weekly to talk -- about addiction and all that came before: Taking a
beating from a john with a baseball bat. Smoking weed at age 11 with
my mother. Being raped by my brother. Losing my kids to an abusive
husband, who put them up for adoption.

This is where it leads: inmates confronting their addictions,
understanding the impact on their lives, trying to start over.

After more than a decade of getting tough on crime and warehousing
inmates, Maryland now is investing in rehabilitation. It's needed if
Maryland -- and other states -- hope to stop recycling offenders. The
failure of the lock-'em-up approach is evident: Two of every three
prisoners are rearrested within three years of their release, fueling
this country's $60 billion annual prison tab.

Across the nation, prison officials are diverting nonviolent offenders
to other settings and priming inmates for life on the outside.
Maryland's initiative, restricted to two prisons, is a modest jab at
the state's 51 percent recidivism rate. Known as Restart (Re-entry
Enforcement Services Targeting Addiction Rehabilitation and
Treatment), it focuses on skills, responsibility and change.

With 80 percent of the prison population drug-involved, addiction
counseling is a necessary focus. Research shows that if treatment
begins in prison and continues during work release and parole, it's
more successful. At the Maryland Correctional Institution for Women,
counseling groups can serve about 105 women in twice-weekly meetings
for six months -- but that's only about a third of the inmates who
could benefit.

The group work centers on past behavior, whether it's selling crack
cocaine to feed your habit or drinking nightly to unwind after a
nursing shift. It starts with self-awareness and motivation. You have
to want to change, says Debra Chafin, a nurse who killed a 10-year-old
while driving drunk. But all the talk therapy in the world won't
protect a recovering addict from relapse if she doesn't anticipate and
plan for the pitfalls ahead. The what-ifs can be daunting, daily tests
of willpower. Delores Davis, a repeat drug offender from Baltimore,
knows the rewards of living drug-free -- and of the easy money of drug
dealing. She's been in halfway houses, but what she needs on release
is greater: I need to go inside a treatment facility.

Deborah Humphries, 35, from Edgemere, was living the good life until
her marriage broke up. The mother of two took a job in a bar; drinking
became more than a social pastime. Convicted of assault, she landed in
prison when she failed to report to a probation officer. She knows
she's an alcoholic, and she's scared about getting out: How long is it
going to take me to get a job so I can keep up the ... group therapy?
. This is the first time in my entire life that I will be alone. ...
How do I reconnect?

Restart is a new start for women inmates and Maryland corrections.
State prison officials should be commended for pressing on with it
despite lawmakers' skepticism. It could change lives and save tax dollars.

But success rests not just on what happens in prison but also on
treatment outside the wire. So a critical test of this attempt at
reducing recidivism becomes the ability to deliver inmate discharge
plans that recognize their immediate needs: addiction and mental
health services, an affordable place to live, a job.

Bus fare home no longer suffices.