Justyna M. in Criminal Justice
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” Dr. Seuss
The real issue with reentry programs and many nonprofit organizations aimed at helping individuals transition out of prison or jail is that over time, they can lose sight of their original mission. Instead of focusing on the people they are meant to serve, these organizations often become consumed by the desire for recognition, power, and influence. The pursuit of fame, accolades, and personal importance begins to overshadow the actual work that needs to be done.
Reentry and advocacy is not about those leading the organizations; it’s about those who need support the most—the individuals reentering society, trying to rebuild their lives after incarceration. Unfortunately, too many organizations become driven by competition, trying to outdo each other or be the loudest voice in the room. They lose track of the true purpose: helping people gain their freedom and independence, helping them find jobs, housing, and stability.
In the race to be the most important or influential, some nonprofits prioritize their own reputation over the real impact they should be having. They focus more on gaining public attention and showcasing their efforts rather than quietly and effectively doing the work that makes a difference in people’s lives. This greed for recognition not only dilutes the mission but also undermines the trust of those who depend on these services.
Reentry and advocacy work is about humility, compassion, and dedication to those who deserve a second chance. We must never forget that our job is to lift up those who are trying to rebuild their lives, not to elevate our own status. True advocacy doesn’t need to be in the spotlight; it simply needs to make a difference where it matters most—behind the scenes, ensuring that those we serve have the support and resources they need to thrive.
This publication is long overdue. I feel like I’ve spent a lifetime explaining myself, like writing my own résumé for society to examine, pointing out my successes and failures, just so someone can see what I’ve done, who I was, and where I stand. This time, though, my message is raw, organic, and unapologetic. As an advocate and activist, I may use words or phrases that some won’t agree with, but I believe this is necessary for people to truly understand where I’m coming from.
I am who I am. At the end of the day, I’m a woman, a human being, deserving of respect. If someone disrespects me or crosses me without justification, there will be consequences. That’s how I live. That’s how my parents taught me. That’s how prison life, clients, and the system around me shaped me. When someone questions my loyalty or integrity, I don’t hesitate to stand up, even in a crowd, to say what needs to be said. I don’t need to apologize for it. This is who I am.
” Defund D.O.C. “
Isn’t it true that as advocates and activists working in the criminal justice system, we are supposed to refrain from judging others, no matter their circumstances? Isn’t that the number one principle we follow? I believe that’s the biggest issue with people in general—we judge by appearances and don’t take the time to understand the full story, the struggles people face. And often, by the time we realize our judgment was wrong, it’s too late. That’s exactly what happened between me, Linda, and Daniel, who, unfortunately, are involved in running Defund D.O.C.
As I mentioned earlier, Daniel sent me a message via Securus (which, as we all know, archives messages for security purposes). Daniel, who is currently incarcerated, fits the legal definition of a criminal but is trying to find understanding behind the walls. He seeks help from others because his behavior constantly lands him in trouble, yet he claims to want to help others. I couldn’t understand why the Settle Clemency Project told him they wouldn’t take his case for at least another two years. Now it makes sense because, although I typically don’t look into people’s charges, I decided to this time. He’s been telling everyone he doesn’t have a violent crime, but that’s not true—he does. He also has other issues within the DOC that are contributing factors.
He claimed the message was sent by a private investigator. After some digging, I discovered that wasn’t the case. The private investigator didn’t contact Daniel directly but instead went through Linda, who, in reality, is nothing more than a glorified secretary for the organization, since Daniel is incarcerated. And we all know that people who are in custody, whether federal or state, are not allowed to enter any form of binding contract. It’s part of the terms and conditions of their incarceration, which means they can’t own businesses, cars, or engage in any contractual agreements.
As for the private investigator, I uncovered that he’s actually my stalker from 2022. He has been involved in this for over three years, and after confronting him directly, he confirmed his identity. This individual is a habitual sex offender with heinous crimes against children, and stalking seems to be his specialty. While I work extensively with the population of sex offenders, there are certain individuals within this group who simply cannot be helped, and he is one of them. He’s been posing as a private investigator without even changing his name on the chat. He also mentioned sending Linda a cease-and-desist letter along with a large zip file containing my personal information. I’m not yet sure what’s in it, but I’ll be playing devil’s advocate and filing a restraining order.
What really bothers me, though, is Daniel and Linda. They have asked for my help repeatedly with Daniel’s legal battles, and I have never once judged him. I have always supported her. Yet, all it took was one message from a stranger for Linda, someone who should have been understanding and non-judgmental, to make a quick, harsh judgment call. Ask yourself—is that someone you want to trust? What happens if your situation doesn’t fit their agenda? Can you really open up to them, or will they judge you too?
On a separate note, Linda has been emailing me throughout the night, threatening me with claims that my article is defamatory toward her and her “legal Beagle” Daniel. I’ve reminded her that journalism is protected by freedom of speech, and there’s nothing in my article that isn’t true. If they want to pursue legal action, I’m more than willing to exchange documents with the Superintendent and DOC.
“Oh, and you may want to take that blog down because Slander can get you in trouble. We have proof that neither of us hired a private investigator. If you were an attorney, you should know better. I’m sending Daniel the article now, and we will figure out how we are moving forward with this. ” Linda Defund D.O.C.
I’ve taken a closer look at their platform. Are they really about activism, advocacy, and reform, or is it more about drawing attention to themselves, shouting about how important they are, and selling products? They seem more focused on featuring famous guests on their podcast than making real change in society. That’s something you’ll need to judge for yourself. But be cautious about who you trust. Sometimes, it’s like when someone walks into prison—people ask to see your papers. Maybe we should be doing the same in situations like this.
Messaage
“Hey there! Ola. The article you wrote was great. Very good. We greatly appreciate your advocacy. On another topic, a private investigator contacted us regarding you. He said you weren’t honest about being a prosecutor or attorney. Then he sent us records from every State’s Bar association verifying that none of them licensed you. Therefore we are forced to take down that podcast episode. Despite that we value you as our friend. We would like to stay connected on our platforms if you’re okay with that. As you can see, we are understanding people and know everyone makes bad decisions from time to time. Regardless we hope you know we are not against you in any fashion. We just can’t have a disputed episode airing on our platform. I apologize if this troubles you. We wanted to be honest and straight with you. Other than that I hope you continue striving to be a powerful advocate. You don’t need a Bar card to be an effective advocate or activist! Please stay well. Talk to you later!” Daniel J. Simms
I don’t owe explanations to people like him. He claims his investigator couldn’t find any record of me practicing as an attorney or prosecutor. Well, guess what? I’m not practicing anymore, and I don’t owe him an explanation. What Daniel did wasn’t just disrespectful—it lacked morality. He crossed a line, and now he’s asking for friendship. Friendship after betrayal? Not happening.
Daniel, here’s some advice: don’t cross women like me. We’re not on the same level of advocacy or activism. I’ve never run a background check on you, but after your stunt, I did, and what I found was disturbing. You belong in prison because you put yourself there, and now you’re spinning this narrative about retaliation and being targeted by the Washington DOC. But let’s be real—you can’t fight the system while you’re inside it. You wanted to be famous, to be seen as a hero, but instead, your behavior is childish and moronic.
The real problem here is that this isn’t just about Daniel. It’s about the broader issue with reentry, reform, and the justice system. Too often, people who get a taste of fame, even for a moment, let it go to their heads. They forget why they started advocating in the first place. They forget the people they’re supposed to be helping—the ones who are still behind bars, the ones who need our advocacy to be about them, not about us.
True advocacy doesn’t need to be on the front page. It doesn’t need trophies or recognition. It’s about fighting for those who deserve a second chance. Take the Menendez brothers, for example. Yes, they were likely abused, but that didn’t give them the right to murder their parents. They deserved their life sentence. In cases like these, as advocates, we need to see both sides, not just the one that’s convenient.
I’ve written letters on Daniel’s behalf before, advocating for him to be moved back to lower custody. I didn’t know the full extent of his history. I didn’t judge. But now, I see I was wrong. I was blindsided by someone trying to sell me a Maserati that turned out to be an Oldsmobile. Daniel betrayed my trust, just like he betrays the system he claims to fight. He even plagiarized parts of my work, publishing them without my permission.
When he wrote and published article, let’s say about the NFL retired Ray Fisher or more specifically regarding the Charles James case, I had sent him a draft of my perspective that I was preparing for publication. Daniel asked if he could use some of the material I created through my own research and time, and I explicitly told him NO, as it was my intellectual property. Despite this, he went ahead and published his piece as an independent journalist. When I compared both articles, I noticed identical words, numbers, and names that I had mentioned weeks before his publication. Essentially, Daniel copied my work without permission. I don’t care if he cited sources from the justice system—I had specifically told Daniel not to use my material, and he did it anyway.
Daniel’s behavior reeks of jealousy, insecurity, and a thirst for fame. He tried to make a podcast with Shannon Richardson, a friend of mine who’s struggling with mental health issues, despite my explicit instructions not to. Instead of respecting her fragile state, he saw an opportunity to exploit her story. That’s not advocacy—it’s opportunism.
I’m laying this all out for the world to see because the reentry community needs to stop elevating people like Daniel. Advocacy isn’t about fame or power. It’s about those we fight for. It’s about the people behind bars who deserve a second chance, not those who try to capitalize on their stories.
People might be wondering why I’m sharing all of this, so let me explain. The issue with reentry and those involved in justice reform is that when they catch a glimpse of fame, even for just a moment, they elevate their status and lose sight of their roots. This isn’t just happening in one organization; it’s a widespread phenomenon. It’s been observed at places like the Second Chance Center in Colorado and in transitional housing and sober living environments. Everyone seems eager to feel important, but this isn’t about us. We are not the ones who created the reentry system or support those who are less fortunate. Our focus should be on the individuals behind prison walls—the ones who are striving to reenter society, find jobs, obtain cell phones, get driver’s licenses, and drive electric cars. The spotlight should be on them, not us.
To Daniel and others like him: stop. Stop pretending to be something you’re not. Stop using others for your gain. You want respect? Earn it through integrity and loyalty, not manipulation and deceit. You’re not the advocate you think you are.
And as for me? I’ll keep fighting for justice, but I’ll do it quietly. My work doesn’t need to be on the front page. My clients don’t need to be famous. I don’t need accolades. I need people to be free who deserve to be free. That’s the only recognition that matters.
As I always say, you have two options: you can either work with me or against me. The choice is clear.
Disclaimer: This article discusses a real story involving real people and real events. It is published with the intention of informing and raising awareness about the complexities of such narratives. The content does not intend to defame or slander any individuals, and there are no legal consequences associated with the publication of this story regarding defamation or character slander.
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