This story was commissioned by the River City Journalism Fund
A sign on the wall of Barbara Baker’s office proclaims “Everything Is Possible,” and Baker’s life might be the ultimate proof of that.
Baker is the advocacy director at Keyway Center for Diversion and Reentry, a St. Louis-based nonprofit that works with, and on behalf of, women in the criminal justice system. She began working there nearly 25 years ago and will be retiring in August.
“Working with the women here gave me the strength to keep going,” she says. “It always kept my life in front of me.”
When Baker, 72, was first hired, she was only a few years out of prison. She had been arrested more than 50 times and served five sentences for shoplifting to support a drug habit. Her kids spent years in the care of family members; one was taken from her just days after his birth.
Now she advocates for women like herself. It’s a growing population. While only 10% of the prison population in the U.S. is female, the number of women incarcerated since the 1980s has skyrocketed nearly 700%. The incarceration rate of women in Missouri is also much higher than the national average, according to the Prison Policy Initiative.
What Baker, like many justice-involved women have discovered, is that systemic challenges set them up for failure after their time behind bars ends. Through Keyway, she advocates for ways to smooth the path for women who want to change their lives — and the families that suffer in their absences.
A chance to ‘tell my story’
Keyway named a housing unit in Carondelet in honor of Barbara Baker eight years ago.
“For the first time, they caught me speechless,” she says. “I just thought of all the grace and mercy that God has shown me since I walked out of prison.”
Baker grew up in Pruitt-Igoe, the massive high-rise housing project that opened in the DeSoto-Carr neighborhood of St. Louis in 1954. The complex was built with federal money, but administered by the St. Louis Housing Authority. Things deteriorated quickly, and by 1970, a federal report found conditions in the complex were “nearly unbelievable.” Within a few years the last tenants had moved out and the buildings were demolished.
“I didn’t want to go there, but I didn’t have a choice,” Baker recalls.
At a young age, Baker says she began experimenting with drugs. First cough syrup, which previously contained codeine, a narcotic used for pain. Later, heroin — a highly addictive fast-acting opiate. That’s when she started shoplifting to support her drug habit, finding herself in and out of prison as she scrambled to get her fix.
The war on drugs, in which the U.S. government targeted recreational substance users, significantly increased the number of women incarcerated, even as access to quality drug treatment remains out of reach for many people with drug dependency.
More people today understand substance use disorders as chronic but treatable health conditions. However, drug users continue to be labeled as criminals — preventing many from seeking help for debilitating and sometimes fatal disorders.
In 2016, less than a quarter of female prison admissions in Missouri were from new convictions, according to the Institute for Public Health. The remaining 75% were either women being ordered back to prison for drug treatment or for violations of probation or parole — many of which result directly from substance abuse.
“They said I could connect with the women because I had spent so much time with them."Barbara Baker, advocacy director and certified peer supports specialist at Keyway Center for Diversion and Reentry
For Baker, a turning point came during her fifth stint in prison, when the possibility for early parole opened up. During this time, she worked as a certified nursing assistant in a work-release program during the day and returned to prison at night. “I told myself, ‘When I get out, I’m not going to use drugs anymore,’” she says.
Then she purchased heroin from a friend.
The next morning, she woke up in a panic — expecting to be drug tested soon. A positive test would prevent the possibility of early release. And this time, for whatever reason, something clicked for Baker.
“They didn’t call me that day, and by the time I was tested, the drugs were out of my system,” she says. “I just prayed to God to keep me clean and sober and direct my path, and that’s what he did.”
Less than a year later, in the fall of 1995, Baker was released from prison for the last time. This time, she got involved with a women's organization called Let’s Start, which is run by women who had previously been incarcerated.
Soon after Baker became a participant in the program, she started speaking to groups about her lived experience.
“I was getting the opportunity to go around and tell people my story,” she says. “I was getting rid of the shame and guilt behind the lifestyle.”
Four years later she joined Keyway, and found her life’s calling.
The organization had been founded in 1997 as the Center for Women in Transition by two groups of St. Louis-based nuns, the Sisters of Mercy and the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, and initially focused on prison ministry work and mentoring.
In 1999, Sister Rose McLarney, who was Keyway’s first full-time executive director, called Let’s Start looking to hire a part-time administrative assistant. Baker got the job. Just a few years later, a new position would open: advocacy director. Baker got that job, too.
Yet Baker believes her advocacy efforts actually began in prison, where she was tasked with working for the superintendent and relaying messages from inmates. She learned how to talk to people and translate their needs into clear communication.
In her new role, Keyway coached her on how to approach legislators and judges. But she didn’t need any help learning how to approach women who were getting out of prison.
“They said I could connect with the women because I had spent so much time with them,” says Baker. “Then I started telling everybody that came out of prison, ‘Hey girl, they got this program over here.’”
Reducing recidivism
Baker had spent a total of 15 years behind bars. Once she was released, instead of focusing on herself, she had to focus on things like getting a job, finding a place to live and getting her children back.
“You come out of prison and you want to conform to what society says, but you need support and time to heal yourself,” says Baker. “When I started working at Keyway, that’s when it clicked.”
Approximately 43% of people in state prisons have been diagnosed with a mental health disorder, and in Missouri, many inmates with mental health conditions must wait extended periods for treatment. About 88% of people in Missouri prisons report having engaged in substance misuse the year before incarceration, according to the Missouri Department of Corrections.
Trauma history is also higher among prison populations — and that is linked to the kind of antisocial behavior or substance abuse that makes it hard to break the cycle.
“I’d see different faces, but the same issues over and over,” says Keyway Executive Director April Foster.
Foster initially worked with juveniles in the criminal justice system and later moved on to gender responsive programming, which is designed to address the intersection of trauma and co-occurring substance use and mental health disorders. Foster came to Keyway five years ago, and the agency now also works with non-binary, gender-nonconforming and transgender individuals to help address their specific needs and challenges following incarceration.
Keyway steps in at the point that people are released from prison.
“When they’re released, then I pick them up and bring them here,” says Baker.
Depending on their recovery level, many Keyway participants will then end up living at one of the organization’s supervised, apartment-style housing units. In Carondelet, Baker House and Schirmer House offer temporary housing for up to 44 individuals. There is also room for 21 participants at Sharon House, a permanent housing residence in the Central West End. However, not all Keyway participants live in one of the housing units.
“We do an assessment of each individual when they come in,” says Foster. “Then we work alongside them to build a program that works for them.”
Keyway’s orientation phase includes a two-week stabilization period that helps establish connections with medical professionals and external service providers — and even covers the most basic needs.
“Someone from our organization will get you clothes, hygiene, go to the grocery store,” Baker says.
For those with a history of substance use disorder, a transition support specialist, who is also certified in peer recovery, provides additional support.
After completing orientation, participants move into core programming. An assessment of their strengths and needs is followed by the development of individualized case plans. Participants engage in classes and workshops that cover topics such as job readiness, budgeting, financial literacy, housing education and communication skills. They are also encouraged to take advantage of on-site behavioral health services.
Keyway says 82% of its clients in fiscal year 2023 gained employment and 100% maintained stable housing and did not return to prison within six months of program admission. 87% of participants also reduced saw trauma symptoms relating to child abuse, domestic violence, rape and other distressing experiences.
Potential Keyway participants must first submit an online application. They must be 18 or older, able to perform activities of daily living — including things like bathing and eating — and currently be involved with the criminal justice system or have been within the past six months. They must also be committed to participating in Keyway’s programming.
Unfortunately, not all people who come to Keyway are ready to change.
“We’ve had several come that weren’t ready yet,” says Baker. “If you’re not doing the things you need to be doing in the program we ask you to leave, because we have other women to consider.”
Drug use on Keyway’s premises is an automatic grounds for dismissal. To ensure that participants remain sober, they are subject to random urine analysis and breathalyzer tests.
But even when someone fails, Baker remains hopeful.
“We’ve had some that didn’t make it but came back later,” says Baker. “We fall down, but we get back up.”
Fulfilling their goals
Mary Lou Walker currently lives at Sharon House.
“I’ve been to a lot of treatment centers because I’m trying to keep myself sober, but people are there for the wrong reasons,” she says. “They might be looking for shelter or not working on anything. It’s a distraction.”
Walker, 68, previously worked as the house manager at Sober Home, an organization that helps with addiction recovery. She and Baker would regularly refer clients to each other that didn’t fit the criteria for each of their organizations. Then Walker, who had struggled with heroin use, relapsed under the pressure of her position. She reached out to Baker and came to Keyway in the fall of 2023.
“Here, everyone is getting jobs and fulfilling their goals,” she says. “That’s what you have to do to stay clean and sober.”
Baker’s office is also in Sharon House. One of the joys of her job, she says, is simply interacting with the women there. When she’s not reviewing Keyway applications, sometimes she’ll catch up with some of them around the house. But she says the women are often busy working on their goals.
“They’re going to work and doing their own thing,” Baker says.
Though Baker is often in meetings, Keyway participants know that she’s always available to help.
“There’s nothing like being able to pick up the phone and call somebody when you need support,” says Jennifer Brown, a current Keyway participant who attends weekly peer support sessions with Baker. “You can call her any time.”
Brown, 40, came to Keyway in September of last year from Cape Girardeau. She had been in prison for numerous drug convictions. Now, she lives at Baker House.
Since coming to Keyway, Brown found work as a server at Red Lobster and is also pursuing a commercial driver’s license to become a truck driver.
By June, Brown hopes to have saved up enough money to leave Baker House and find her own place.
However, finding a home with a felony conviction is not so easy.
Many landlords and rental agencies will not rent to those with a criminal record, which makes a tough situation even worse. Since the pandemic, housing prices have skyrocketed. Evictions also increased.
While people leaving the prison system face obstacles upon reentering society including housing instability and financial insecurity, women and transgender individuals may face even higher levels of discrimination. According to the National Center for Transgender Equality, one in five transgender people in the U.S. has been discriminated against when seeking a home, and more than one in ten have been evicted from their homes because of their gender identity.
Most parole agreements require people being released from prison to find not only housing, but a job. However, many employers will not hire formerly incarcerated individuals, and without a job, people can’t pay their bills, including rent.
“Even if your family has a place on the couch for you, they don’t have any money to get you to look for a job every day,” says Baker.
A survey from the Urban Institute found that more than one-third of people released from incarceration have difficulty obtaining a car for work or emergencies. Nearly a quarter also reported having trouble accessing public transportation.
According to a 2020 Missouri Department of Corrections report, the unemployment rate in the state for people on parole was about 45%, or close to 17 times the state’s current overall unemployment rate of 2.7%. Four in ten women in the United States say they have faced discrimination on the job because of their gender, including recruiting bias, unequal pay and sexual harassment. More than three-fourths of transgender individuals have also experienced job discrimination, including refusal to hire, privacy violations, harassment and physical or sexual violence on the job.
Keyway refers participants who need help finding a job to Transformative Workforce Academy, a Saint Louis University collaboration that’s designed to support people at high risk of incarceration. The organization helps with resume building and interview prep, among other things.
“We help hook them up with employment,” says Maddy Heil, an employment specialist at Transformative Workforce Academy. Heil was a Keyway participant herself 12 years ago.
Barnes-Jewish Hospital and Schnucks are just a couple of the local organizations that intentionally take placements from the Workforce Academy. Other organizations also help connect people leaving prison to new opportunities.
These include LaunchCode’s program LaunchCode Women+, an education program designed to engage and educate women, trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming individuals in the local technology community, as well as Missouri Women in Trades, which helps people enter careers in construction and building trades.
Advocacy in action
Barbara Baker gave birth to her son Eric in 1976, a time when she was still cycling in and out of incarceration.
She was only allowed a few days in the hospital with him.
“At the end of five days, he went out one door with my mother and I went out another door with a prison guard,” she says. “It was a very sad time.”
Baker remembers coping with postpartum depression after Eric’s birth.
“I would cry all the time,” she says.
But after each release, Baker would reconnect with Eric and her daughter, Tiffany. Her parole address was always her mother’s house, where both of her children were also staying.
“Everybody is not that lucky, though,” says Baker.
More than half of women in state prisons have a child under the age of 18, according to the Sentencing Project. Many incarcerated women are also the primary caretakers of minor children and face a high risk of losing custody. Baker now knows how much her children suffered during their years apart.
“I never thought that my incarceration affected my kids, but I found that out when I started doing this work about the shame and the guilt and the feelings of abandonment they had,” Baker says.
Baker has used her experiences to advocate for other women in her situation today. In 2021, the Missouri legislature passed two bills that helped diminish the impact of incarceration on women and families. The Feminine Hygiene Bill provides tampons to incarcerated women and the Primary Caretaker Bill encourages diversion from incarceration for nonviolent female offenders with children.
Just one year later, the legislature approved a bill that will create a prison nursery for incarcerated moms — legislation that will allow incarcerated women to care for and bond with their child for up to 18 months in a correctional facility.
But despite those major successes, Keyway sees much more work to be done in Missouri. The state’s partial ban on access to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program following incarceration and full ban on access to Temporary Assistance for Needy Families following felony convictions for drug use directly harm the families of women in prison.
Keyway’s advocacy advisory board continues to highlight the need for new legislation, urging better mental health services, access to substance use treatment and healthcare by showing the important role they play in reducing recidivism, among other things.
Currently, Baker is trying to pass Clean Slate legislation in Missouri, which would automatically expunge nonviolent felony convictions after a certain period.
“We have a lot of women that come to Keyway that have some really great skills,” Baker says. “But because of that record, they can’t get a good job, and that shouldn’t be.”
At this time, only about 1% of Missourians are successful in obtaining expungement. Though many are eligible, the process is arduous and expensive. Missouri House Bill 352, the “Clean Slate” bill, would also lift the ban on Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits for people with felony drug convictions.
Baker’s lived experience as a woman who’s been in prison makes her an especially effective advocate with lawmakers.
“It absolutely informs her perspective and lends extra credibility to her advocacy efforts,” says Jeff Smith, a lobbyist in Jefferson City who is also part of Keyway’s advocacy board.
Smith, a former Democratic elected official, has lived experience as an ex-prisoner himself. He spent a year in prison for lying to federal investigators and even wrote a book about it: Mr. Smith Goes to Prison: What My Year Behind Bars Taught Me About America’s Prison Crisis.
Baker meets monthly with Smith and other advocacy board members to address gender-specific barriers for people coming out of prison. From there, Smith helps create Keyway’s yearly legislative agenda and find potential legislative sponsors. Later, Keyway clients and staff provide testimony — something Smith says Baker is particularly good at.
“She inspires people to want to be a part of an effort and team and realize the possibilities of engagement,” he says.
Baker has spent time with many other politicians while working as the advocacy director at Keyway, including former St. Louis Circuit Attorney Kim Gardner and St. Louis County Prosecutor Wesley Bell, who is currently running for Congress. A picture in her office shows the three of them at an STL Alliance for Reentry conference, an annual summit that provides professional development, networking and resources for organizations that provide services for justice-involved individuals.
Each year, Baker organizes a day when Keyway staff and clients can come to Jefferson City to meet with lawmakers, too.
“It’s always a good experience meeting with them,” says Baker. “Even if they’re not going to do anything about it, they’re going to listen to you.”
'A great need'
Looking back on her 25 years at Keyway, Barbara Baker remembers all the people she’s helped — many of whom were once in a situation just like hers.
“I can name several off the top of my head that have been in and out like myself,” she says. “Since they came to the program, they haven’t looked back. They’re in the community and doing great.”
One of those women is Sandra Barfield, now the house manager at Sharon House. Barfield came to Keyway from the Fulton Community Supervision Center, the first all-women’s supervision center in Missouri that helps people on probation or parole learn life skills.
After Barfield’s parole officer put her in touch with Keyway, Barfield filled out an application. She came to the program two years ago and focused on maintaining her sobriety and her relationship with her children. She also attended weekly peer-support sessions with Baker to address past traumas.
“A lot of people want to push back from society,” says Barfield, 41. “They combat their emotions with drugs.”
After completing Keyway’s programming, Barfield transferred to Sharon House. In January of 2023, she applied to be the live-in house manager and was offered the job. Now she helps Keyway participants with their own journeys reentering society.
“It helps put people at ease being able to say, ‘I was where you are,’” says Barfield.
In the living room at Sharon House, Barfield and Baker sometimes catch up on television shows during their spare time. Throughout the week, Baker also records some of her favorite shows at her home in north city, including comedies like Seinfeld and King of Queens.
On the weekends, Baker says she likes to visit friends at a nearby beauty shop. “We like to hang out and laugh and joke,” she says.
She also frequently hangs out with her family, including her son and daughter, as well as her six grandchildren and five great-grandchildren. Sometimes, they take family trips to different states.
She has lowkey plans for her retirement.
“I told my daughter, I’m just having a retirement party and that’s it,” says Baker. “I don’t want to go out of town or anything.”
But before she retires, Baker will travel with Keyway’s team to Jefferson City to advocate for the Clean Slate Bill.
“I hope to see that pass before I retire,” she says. “And I hope Keyway is able to stay open, because there’s a great need.”
At this time, Keyway can only serve 150 women per year, just about 35% of the applicants who are interested. In addition, the organization can only house 65 people.
Baker would like to see a capacity for more — to help more people just like her.
“If it had not been for this program and people having faith in me, I couldn’t have done it,” Baker says.
Correction: A previous version of this story failed to mention one of the two groups of nuns who founded Keyway, which includes the Sisters of Mercy, and referred incorrectly to the roots of Let's Start, which only joined the Criminal Justice Ministry in 2019.
Keyway is hosting a fundraiser in honor of Baker’s retirement: 25 hours to donate for her 25 years of service. The fundraiser starts at 10 a.m. on February 22. See its website for more details.
This story was commissioned by the River City Journalism Fund, which seeks to advance journalism in St. Louis. See rcjf.org for more information.
