In the United States, the criminal legal system isn’t just flawed—it’s rigged. As a returning citizen, I’ve experienced firsthand the systemic barriers that make reintegration into society incredibly difficult, especially for Black men. At the core of this struggle is white privilege, which perpetuates a double standard that allows white individuals—especially those in power—to navigate their post-conviction lives with far fewer obstacles. A glaring example of this double standard is the contrast between the lives of Donald Trump, the 47th president of the United States, and myself, a Black man with a felony conviction.
Despite his criminal past, Trump has been able to rise to one of the most powerful positions in the world, accumulating wealth and influence along the way. His criminal record has neither disqualified him from holding office nor limited his access to resources. In fact, a judge just gave him an unconditional discharge (meaning the president-elect will not face time behind bars, a fine or probation), despite the fact that a jury found him guilty on 34 counts of falsifying business records to conceal a hush money payment to an adult-film actress. And he has pledged to give pardons to his followers who stormed the capitol on Jan. 6, 2020, to contest his election loss. (That selective use of privilege isn’t limited to Republican presidents however; Joe Biden, as you know, relieved his son of a potential prison sentence with a pardon — despite pledging numerous times not to do so.)
On the other hand, I, like so many others, served my time and now face a constant struggle just to find basic employment. Even jobs that typically require little education or training—like working for services such as DoorDash or Uber Eats—are closed to me due to my criminal history. This isn’t just a matter of personal circumstances; it reflects a more profound, systemic issue where white privilege dictates who gets second chances and who remains locked out of opportunities.
White privilege and its impact on the legal system
White privilege is a societal advantage that benefits white people, often without them being fully aware of it. This privilege is embedded in the structures of power that govern the criminal justice system and access to employment, education, and healthcare. It fosters an environment where actions or conditions are treated differently depending on race. This racial disparity is especially evident in post-conviction outcomes.
Take, for example, the fact that Trump, a white man, has maintained his wealth and influence despite serious legal allegations. Meanwhile, as a Black man with a felony conviction, I struggle to secure even the most basic job opportunities. This is not an isolated case. Studies show that people of color, particularly Black men, face disproportionately more significant challenges when seeking employment after incarceration. According to the National Employment Law Project, formerly incarcerated individuals are 50% less likely to be called back for a job interview than those without a criminal record—and for Black applicants, the disparity is even more severe. What might be overlooked or excused for a white individual becomes an insurmountable barrier for someone like me.
The hypocrisy of the system
The hypocrisy embedded in our society and the criminal justice system makes this situation even more infuriating. White individuals, especially those with power and privilege, often manage to escape the full consequences of their actions. Trump’s ability to ascend to the presidency despite his criminal background is just one example of how white privilege shields those at the top of the social and economic ladder. On the other hand, individuals like me, who have served our sentences, are punished long after our sentences have ended. This double standard doesn’t just harm people like me—it perpetuates a system that keeps racial inequality alive and well in America.
White privilege is not simply about individual opportunities—it’s about a societal structure that has historically and continues to favor white people at the expense of people of color. Until we dismantle this system, the opportunities available to returning citizens will remain unevenly distributed. While wealthy white people continue to prosper, people of color are disproportionately impacted by barriers to employment, housing, and other essential opportunities.
The road to true justice and equality
To begin addressing these disparities, we must do more than just acknowledge them—we must take systemic action. This includes policies like “ban the box” laws, which prevent employers from asking about criminal history on job applications, as well as programs that provide targeted support for formerly incarcerated individuals, particularly people of color, to help us reintegrate into society. Research from the National Institute of Justice shows that these initiatives have significantly improved job opportunities for returning citizens.
However, we also need a broader societal shift in how we understand and confront white privilege. Those who have paid their debt to society, regardless of race, must be allowed to rebuild their lives. This requires not just changes in policy but a cultural shift that ensures equal accountability and opportunities for all.
Without these systemic changes, the double standard of white privilege will continue to thrive, leaving people like me behind while allowing others—like Donald Trump—to succeed despite their criminal past. The real question is: How much longer will we allow this disparity to persist? What will it take for society to break free from this deeply ingrained injustice? The fight for equality and justice, particularly for returning citizens of color, is far from over. But by confronting the role of white privilege in perpetuating these inequalities, we can begin to take meaningful steps toward a fairer and more just society for everyone.
Terrell Peters was incarcerated for 23 years, and was released in 2023. He serves as a frequent co-host of Voices Unlocked, the More Than Our Crimes podcast.
