This article examines the reentry nonprofit organization Second Chance Center in Aurora, Colorado—dubbed by some as the “Second Sham Center.” Is it time for a thorough audit or even its closure?
In a world where truth can often be stranger than fiction, let’s explore a purely hypothetical scenario—a story of two individuals, Khalil Halim and Candice Sporhase-White, whose professional and personal lives may be more intertwined than meets the eye.
A Relationship Beyond the Office?
Imagine Khalil, an executive at a well-funded nonprofit organization, and Candice, his deputy executive, sharing more than just a professional connection. What if their “working relationship” extended into something more personal—occasional rendezvous beyond office hours, whispered secrets, and a dynamic that goes far beyond the boundaries of workplace ethics?
In this hypothetical story, Khalil, steeped in the traditions of his faith, stands as the figurehead of authority. It’s no secret that within certain cultural frameworks, a woman in leadership—especially as an executive director—might face resistance. Could this explain why Candice holds the title of deputy rather than being at the helm herself? Is it a reflection of societal expectations, or is there something more deliberate at play?
A Hidden Past?
Now, imagine if Candice’s past isn’t as pristine as her current title suggests. What if, before stepping into this role, she spent years working at a bank, only to find herself embroiled in a white-collar crime? Loan fraud, a criminal charge, and a brief stint in state prison might have marked her past—a record she’d rather keep hidden.
Fast forward to today, and Candice finds herself in a position of immense responsibility, overseeing the allocation of millions in funding. Would someone with a history of financial misconduct be the right choice to manage these resources? In this hypothetical narrative, it raises the question: does her past experience give her insight into financial systems, or does it present a risk of repeating old mistakes?
A Power Play or Something More?
Could Candice’s position and her alleged relationship with Khalil be part of a larger power play? In this story, she might know exactly how the organization’s funding flows—how much is allocated, where it’s spent, and, potentially, how to divert some of it for personal gain. The combination of a prior conviction for financial crimes and access to substantial funds creates a troubling picture, where personal ambition might overshadow professional integrity.
Breaking Barriers or Upholding Stereotypes?
This hypothetical tale also challenges the deeply rooted stereotypes within certain cultures. What would it take for a woman to rise to the top in an organization like this? Is it even possible under the current dynamics, or would it always be an uphill battle?
The Bigger Picture
While this story is fictional, it prompts us to reflect on broader issues—workplace ethics, the challenges of breaking cultural norms, and the importance of transparency in leadership. What would it mean for an organization to entrust its future to individuals with hidden pasts or questionable relationships? And how can we ensure that power is used for the greater good, not personal gain?
Perhaps this is just a story, a “what if” to ponder. Or perhaps, it’s a reminder to always look beneath the surface, ask tough questions, and demand accountability from those in positions of power.
Unmasking Candice Sporhase-White: The Hidden Truth Behind the Second Chance Center’s Apprentice Program
Candice Sporhase-White is a name that has echoed through the halls of the Second Chance Center since its inception. Known for her blonde hair, thin frame, and unmistakable entitlement, she exudes an aura that some describe as obnoxious and power-driven. But behind her carefully curated image lies a story riddled with questions and controversy—particularly concerning her role in the center’s Apprentice Program.
The Apprentice Program, often likened to a reality show with its “you’re fired” undertones, operates under Candice’s control. On the surface, it appears to be a pathway for individuals on parole or probation to reintegrate into society. However, whispers from the streets suggest that the program is more about Candice’s personal power trip than genuine rehabilitation.
One of her most notable apprentices was John Garcia, once considered the shining star of the program. However, his promising trajectory took a dark turn, leading to his return to prison on additional charges involving drugs and firearms. The streets suggest Candice had been covering for him for some time, perhaps attempting to salvage the reputation of her pet project. When the cover-up unraveled, John was sent back to prison—a move that raises questions about her judgment and the program’s integrity.
What exactly happened between Candice and John Garcia? Was she complicit in his actions, or merely blind to the warning signs? More importantly, what does John have to say about the woman who once championed him?
Candice’s approach to leadership has garnered significant criticism. Those who challenge her authority reportedly find themselves at risk of being sent back to prison—a terrifying prospect for anyone under parole or probation. This misuse of power calls into question the ethics of her role and the true purpose of the program she oversees.
The Apprentice Program itself has come under fire. Where are the success stories, the diplomas, and the evidence of real rehabilitation? What types of jobs are participants securing, and how many genuinely succeed in reintegrating into society? Critics argue that the program serves more as a grant-magnet than a vehicle for change.
Adding to the controversy are whispers of Candice’s own past. Allegations suggest she may have served time for a white-collar crime, specifically fraud. If true, this raises serious concerns about her fitness to oversee a program involving substantial financial resources. After all, as the saying goes, “A tiger never changes its stripes.”
Candice’s lifestyle also raises eyebrows. Her perfectly styled hair, immaculate makeup, and pristine nails starkly contrast the struggles of the individuals she claims to serve—many of whom can’t even afford basic necessities. One might wonder: What kind of car does she drive? How much is her annual salary? What kind of home does she live in? And how has she seemingly managed to turn her “second chance” into a golden ticket?
Meeting Candice in person leaves a lasting impression, but not necessarily a good one. Her energy is described as vicious and entitled, a stark contrast to the humility and compassion one might expect from someone in her position. Her appearance and demeanor—more fitting for a corporate bank than a reentry program—feel out of touch with the reality of those she’s supposed to be helping.
Even more troubling are claims that Candice is teaching banking skills to program participants. Given her rumored history, one might question what exactly she’s teaching—financial literacy or something more nefarious?
It’s time to hold Candice Sporhase-White and the Second Chance Center accountable. Reentry programs should prioritize the needs of those transitioning from prison, not serve as personal power trips or financial windfalls for those in charge. Candice may have received her second chance, but has she truly earned it—or simply exploited it?
The community deserves answers. Transparency and integrity must become the standard, not the exception, for organizations tasked with such critical work.
Dave Coleman: A Job Handed, Not Earned?
Dave Coleman’s rapid ascent to the position of Care Manager at SCC shortly after his involvement in community corrections at Dahlia has raised significant concerns. Was his rise the result of qualifications and experience, or was it fueled by personal connections? This situation exposes a troubling trend where relationships, rather than merit, appear to dictate professional advancement within the organization.
Coleman’s backstory is both complex and controversial. Convicted of first-degree murder in 1987 for crimes committed at the age of 22, Coleman’s past is marred by violence. At the time of the offense, Coleman had recently been honorably discharged from the Marines and was struggling with drug addiction—a combination that he and his supporters have cited as mitigating factors in his actions. Following his conviction, Coleman became parole-eligible on December 1, 2022, after his sentence was commuted by then-Governor Hickenlooper.
Supporters of Coleman often highlight his Marine Corps service, his battle with PTSD, and his efforts to portray himself as a reformed individual. However, critics remain skeptical, particularly given his lack of disciplinary infractions while incarcerated—a detail that raises questions about whether Coleman was truly reformed or merely adept at avoiding detection. As one former inmate put it, “He never got caught.”
Coleman’s tenure at SCC seems to be yet another chapter in his quest for reinvention. While he has positioned himself as an advocate for mental health and reentry, there is growing doubt about the authenticity of his intentions. For example, Coleman reportedly frequents Colorado Springs, not to discuss inmate reentry strategies or mental health support, but to teach correctional officers how to conduct contraband searches in prisons. This approach has earned him a reputation as a “snitch,” a label that raises questions about his true motives and the ethical implications of his actions.
The transition from a convicted murderer to a leader in community corrections is a significant leap, and one that many believe Coleman has used to consolidate power. His conduct suggests a fixation on authority, possibly as a reaction to years of powerlessness as an incarcerated Black man. The tailored suits, the commanding demeanor, and his focus on control over others paint a picture of a man who thrives on dominance rather than service.
Coleman’s track record in addressing mental health issues—one of the pillars of reentry programs—has also been criticized. Despite his public assertions of understanding and empathy, critics argue that his actions betray a lack of genuine commitment to these causes. Instead, his focus appears to be on maintaining his position of authority rather than fostering meaningful change.
Furthermore, Coleman’s commuted sentence does not equate to innocence. He remains guilty of murder, and this reality cannot be ignored. His past, combined with his current behavior, raises serious concerns about his fitness to lead within a system designed to rehabilitate and reintegrate individuals.
The broader issue at hand is not just about Coleman but about the processes that allowed him to rise to such a position. The apparent lack of scrutiny in hiring and promoting individuals with questionable backgrounds and motives undermines the credibility of reentry programs and the organizations that run them.
Dave Coleman’s story serves as a cautionary tale. It is a reminder that power, when wielded by individuals with unresolved issues and questionable motives, can do more harm than good. Reentry programs must prioritize transparency, accountability, and genuine rehabilitation over optics and personal agendas.
Ultimately, the truth will surface. Coleman’s actions and intentions will come under greater scrutiny, and his legacy will be judged not by his suits or titles, but by the impact—positive or negative—that he leaves behind.
A Question of Standards: Can a Murder Convict Lead Reentry Programs?
The MOORE Center (Men Overcoming Obstacles Reentry Center) in Denver is a collaboration between the City and County of Denver and the Second Chance Center (SCC). Established to provide trauma-informed, gender-responsive services for men reentering society after incarceration, the program boasts innovative approaches to rehabilitation and reintegration. But its choice of leadership—David Coleman, a convicted murderer—raises critical questions about the criteria for hiring and the integrity of community corrections.
David Coleman: A Director with a Dark Past
David Coleman was convicted of first-degree murder in 1987, a heinous crime committed at the age of 22. Following decades of incarceration and eventual parole eligibility in 2022, his record of conviction remains a matter of public concern. Yet, Coleman now holds the title of director at the MOORE Center, directly overseeing operations designed to rehabilitate individuals reentering society.
This decision appears to defy standard hiring practices within community corrections. Typically, extensive background checks, polygraphs, and even psychological assessments are required to ensure individuals in such positions are fit for their responsibilities. How, then, did a man with a murder conviction and no formal rehabilitation credentials ascend to such a prominent role?
The “Lived Experience” Argument vs. Merit-Based Hiring
Supporters of Coleman’s appointment often cite the MOORE Center’s mission to employ staff whose lived experiences mirror those of the participants. Advocates argue that his background provides a unique perspective and credibility when guiding others through the challenges of reintegration.
But this rationale begs the question: should personal experience outweigh formal education, proven expertise, and an unblemished record? Denver is home to countless professionals with advanced degrees in criminal justice, psychology, and social work—many of whom have dedicated their careers to aiding vulnerable populations. How does a convicted murderer surpass such qualified candidates for a leadership role?
A Troubling Precedent
The appointment of David Coleman sets a dangerous precedent for public trust in community corrections. By prioritizing lived experience over qualifications, programs like the MOORE Center risk alienating the very community members they seek to serve.
Moreover, Coleman’s tenure invites skepticism about his motives and methods. Critics point to his involvement in corrections training—specifically, teaching officers how to detect contraband—as indicative of a power-driven approach rather than a rehabilitative one. His critics argue that he may be exploiting his position for personal gain rather than genuinely advancing the program’s mission.
Accountability in Leadership
Programs like the MOORE Center serve as critical bridges between incarceration and reintegration, offering participants a second chance at life. But their success depends on transparent, merit-based leadership. Appointing individuals with serious criminal records to positions of authority, especially without public discourse or justification, undermines the integrity of the system.
It’s time for Denver’s leadership, including Mayor Johnston, to address these concerns. Are we prioritizing innovation and inclusivity at the cost of public safety and accountability? Or are we simply turning a blind eye to questionable hiring practices that favor certain narratives over competence?
The Bigger Picture
The MOORE Center represents a progressive step toward rehabilitative justice. However, it also highlights the need for rigorous oversight in community corrections. While second chances are vital, they must not come at the expense of justice, fairness, or professionalism.
David Coleman’s directorship raises more questions than answers. As the community watches closely, one thing is certain: transparency and accountability must remain at the forefront of public service, especially in programs as critical as this one.
Corruption in Denver: The Disturbing Reality of Criminals Running Community Corrections
Successful candidates must complete a background investigation that encompasses the applicant’s employment and criminal history. We value diverse experiences, prior contact with the criminal legal system is not exclusionary for most applicants. Candidates cannot not be under current criminal justice supervision. Residential Support Staff – Community Corrections. Denver County Colorado
Denver and its surrounding metro area are facing a crisis of public trust. Once seen as a progressive city striving for inclusivity and reform, it now stands as a glaring example of corruption and misplaced priorities. At the heart of this controversy is David Coleman, a convicted murderer turned director of a halfway house. His rise to this position raises critical questions about integrity, fairness, and the deeply troubling dynamics within Denver’s community corrections system.
I think the most important question regarding David Coleman is which panel he is on. If you look at his email address, it shows he is associated with Denver County, not the Second Chance Center. This raises concerns: Is he on the payroll of Denver County, or is he double-dipping between Denver County and the Second Chance Center? This could present a conflict of interest, as the Second Chance Center focuses on reentry services, while the Denver County position involves community corrections. How is he being paid, and how did someone with a criminal background pass the background check to obtain an email address under Denver County, alongside other county employees?
A Convicted Murderer Leading Community Corrections?
David Coleman’s case is emblematic of a much larger issue. Convicted of a heinous crime, Coleman served decades in prison before his sentence was commuted. Instead of quietly reintegrating into society, he was thrust into a leadership role at the MOORE Center (Men Overcoming Obstacles Reentry Center), a facility tied directly to the Denver Department of Corrections.
How does someone with such a violent past, who should be grateful simply to have a second chance at freedom, end up running a program designed to rehabilitate others? The answer lies in the connections and systemic corruption that have plagued Denver’s reentry and correctional systems for years.
Second Chance Center’s Hidden Agenda
The Second Chance Center (SCC), a nonprofit organization heavily involved in Denver’s reentry initiatives, plays a central role in this saga. While SCC claims to focus on providing resources and mentoring for formerly incarcerated individuals, its influence extends far beyond rehabilitation.
David Coleman’s appointment as director at the MOORE Center appears less about merit and more about optics. Well-spoken and able to present a polished image, Coleman fits the profile SCC seeks to promote: a “success story” that bolsters their agenda. But beneath the surface, it’s clear that Coleman is being used as a pawn in a larger strategy—one that prioritizes influence and profit over genuine reform.
The Discrepancy in Commuted Sentences
There is a pattern to the commutations and second chances granted within Denver’s system. A closer look reveals that these benefits disproportionately favor certain groups, particularly African American men convicted of murder or drug-related charges. While inclusivity and racial equity are essential, the lack of transparency surrounding these decisions undermines public confidence.
Former governors, influenced by SCC and other advocacy groups, have commuted sentences for individuals who remain polarizing figures. This trend raises serious concerns about who is truly benefitting from these decisions and why. Are these commutations based on merit and rehabilitation, or are they driven by hidden agendas?
Criminals Running Community Corrections: A Dangerous Precedent
Allowing convicted murderers to hold positions of power within community corrections sets a dangerous precedent. It sends a message that qualifications, experience, and clean records matter less than personal connections and political pressure.
Community corrections facilities are supposed to provide a safe and structured environment for individuals transitioning back into society. When those in charge have criminal pasts, it compromises the integrity of the entire system. Participants and their families deserve to trust that these programs are led by individuals with unassailable credentials—not by those who have committed the very crimes they are supposed to be preventing.
A Call for Reform and Accountability
Denver’s community corrections system is at a crossroads. To restore trust, the following steps must be taken:
- Stricter Hiring Standards: Leadership roles in community corrections should be reserved for individuals with clean criminal records and proven expertise in rehabilitation and social work.
- Transparency in Commutations: The process for granting clemency or commutations must be open to public scrutiny, ensuring that decisions are based on merit rather than favoritism or political influence.
- Independent Oversight: An independent body should be established to investigate and monitor corruption within Denver’s community corrections and reentry programs.
- Focus on Public Safety: Reentry programs should prioritize public safety and accountability, ensuring that participants and their families feel secure in the process.
The Bigger Picture
The corruption and favoritism within Denver’s community corrections are not isolated incidents. They reflect a broader failure to balance compassion with accountability. While everyone deserves a second chance, those chances should not come at the expense of justice or public trust.
David Coleman’s rise to power is a symptom of a system that has lost its way. Denver’s leaders must act swiftly to address these issues before the city’s reputation is further tarnished. The people of Denver—and the integrity of its justice system—deserve nothing less.
Casino Royale: A Mockery of Reentry and Justice
In the world of reentry programs, where the goal is to rehabilitate and reintegrate former offenders into society, you would expect events to reflect humility, transparency, and genuine support for transformation. However, the Second Chance Center’s choice to host a fundraiser under the theme Casino Royale—a name steeped in gambling and indulgence—reveals a glaring disconnect between its purpose and its actions.
The Irony of Casino Royale
Let’s unpack the blatant irony here. Many individuals in the justice system, whether on parole or probation, are explicitly prohibited from gambling. For those under federal or state supervision, purchasing a lottery ticket could result in a violation. Yet, an organization claiming to champion reentry thought it appropriate to host a casino-themed fundraiser.
The event’s name alone is a slap in the face to the individuals this organization is supposedly helping. Gambling addictions are not uncommon among incarcerated populations, and flaunting a theme like this sends the wrong message. The event, complete with fancy clothes, an extravagant venue, and tickets priced at over $200, does little to inspire confidence in the integrity of the reentry process. Instead, it reeks of pretentiousness and misplaced priorities.
Extravagant Spending at Odds with Mission
The lavish venue for Casino Royale, one of Denver’s most expensive, raises questions about the allocation of funds. For an organization claiming to support individuals transitioning back into society, the optics of spending thousands on a single evening are troubling.
Who benefits from this extravagance? Certainly not the individuals struggling to find stable housing, employment, and support upon release. Instead, it seems like an opportunity for the organization to rub shoulders with influential figures while playing dress-up in the guise of charity.
The Guest List: Politicians and Power Players
The guest list for this year’s Casino Royale fundraiser reads like a who’s who of Colorado’s political and legal elite. Among the attendees were:
- John Walsh, Denver’s future District Attorney, whose presence raises questions about his priorities and alliances as he prepares to assume office.
- Rhonda Fields, a state senator and self-proclaimed victim of gang violence, despite her son’s ties to the gang world. Her attendance underscores the performative nature of the event.
- Ashley Hamilton, a former academic and controversial figure known for her scandalous conduct while working in the Department of Corrections (DOC).
These individuals, along with attorneys from wrongful conviction projects, judges, and other power players, participated in an event designed to showcase influence rather than address the real issues of reentry. Were they there out of genuine support, or was this just another networking opportunity disguised as charity?
Criticism Ignored
When concerns about the Casino Royale theme were raised, the response from the organization was swift and defensive. Instead of engaging in constructive dialogue, they dismissed the criticism outright, asserting that their event was beyond reproach.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: hosting a casino-themed fundraiser is not only tone-deaf but also emblematic of a deeper rot within the system. It highlights a culture where appearances matter more than substance, and where the voices of those most affected by the justice system are ignored in favor of self-congratulatory displays.
The Ashley Hamilton Controversy
The presence of Ashley Hamilton, a former – contractor – teacher who was involved in a scandal involving an inappropriate relationship with an inmate, further taints the credibility of this event. Hamilton, who also received millions in funding for an art program within the DOC, represents yet another example of misplaced priorities.
Rather than addressing systemic issues like overcrowding, inadequate mental health care, and the lack of support for reentry, the focus shifts to superficial programs that serve as little more than window dressing.
A Call for Change
It’s time to reassess what reentry programs should stand for. At their core, these initiatives should prioritize:
- Transparency: How funds are raised and spent must be clear and accountable.
- Humility: Events should reflect the mission of supporting individuals in need, not serving as platforms for political and social posturing.
- Authenticity: Reentry programs must focus on tangible support—housing, employment, counseling—not lavish fundraisers or meaningless gestures.
- Accountability: Organizations must be held to higher standards, especially when they claim to represent the interests of vulnerable populations.
Conclusion
The Casino Royale fundraiser is not just an isolated incident—it’s a symptom of a much larger problem within Denver’s reentry and justice systems. When organizations prioritize image over impact, when politicians and power players treat these events as photo opportunities, and when legitimate criticism is dismissed out of hand, it becomes clear that the system is failing those it claims to serve.
Reentry is not a game, and it’s not a spectacle. It’s a lifeline for individuals seeking to rebuild their lives. It’s time for Denver to remember that—and to act accordingly.
Closing Argument
Reentry should be a cornerstone of hope—a system designed to help individuals reintegrate into society, rebuild their lives, and contribute positively to their communities. Instead, it has become a breeding ground for corruption, entitlement, and exploitation. At its worst, the reentry system appears more broken than the criminal justice system itself.
We already face profound issues with our courts, law enforcement, and sentencing practices. DNA scandals, wrongful convictions, and systemic failures plague the criminal justice system. But reentry programs were supposed to offer a reprieve from this chaos—a safe harbor for those seeking a fresh start. Instead, we see organizations riddled with corruption, mismanagement, and greed.
The entitlement of these so-called leaders is staggering. Their lack of accountability and absence of oversight create an unchecked monopoly over resources meant to support individuals striving to reintegrate. Former inmates are being turned into commodities, their struggles exploited for financial gain, and their futures jeopardized by the very systems claiming to help them.
Where is the oversight? How has the Department of Corrections, along with local and state governments, allowed this to continue for over a decade? How many lives have been derailed by these corrupt practices? How many individuals have been sent back to prison because of broken promises and deceitful programs?
At the heart of this issue is a stark contrast between those with good intentions—people who genuinely want to help others rebuild their lives—and those who see reentry as a business opportunity. The latter are not just corrupt; they are dangerous. They exploit public trust, hoard resources, and undermine the efforts of those who truly care.
It’s time for an independent audit, a full investigation, and accountability for the last 12 years of misconduct. We must expose the rot, ensure justice, and rebuild a reentry system rooted in transparency, fairness, and compassion. The lives of countless individuals depend on it, and so does the integrity of our society.
Reentry is not a game, a scheme, or a profit-driven enterprise. It’s a pathway to redemption, hope, and healing. We owe it to those seeking a second chance—and to ourselves—to make sure it lives up to its promise.
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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