Al Cohen

In 1992, I accumulated enough credits for Mercer University to award me an undergraduate degree. Out of the more than 2,500 people confined in the penitentiary, I was the only person to earn a degree. The accomplishment made me feel alive. Prison administrators held a commencement ceremony, and my sister Julie attended. During the ceremony, I delivered a keynote address. That experience helped me believe that I could overcome the stigma of incarceration and remain connected to the broader human experience, even with decades left to serve.

About a year before graduating, I began reaching out to law schools. I didn’t aspire to become a lawyer, but I recognized that pursuing educational credentials had helped me adjust to prison life. I believed that earning a law degree could equip me with skills to use upon release, even if I never practiced law.

With Bruce McPherson’s assistance, I obtained the address of every law school in the nation and began writing letters. In those letters, I described the poor decisions of my youth and the work I had done to earn an undergraduate degree. I asked for permission to study law.

Many administrators responded, explaining that the American Bar Association required law schools to use the Socratic teaching method, which depended on interactive discussions to develop critical thinking. As someone confined to prison, I wouldn’t be able to participate in those discussions, rendering admission impossible.

The Dean of Hofstra Law School, however, passed my letter to Al Cohen, the dean of Hofstra’s graduate school. Professor Cohen admired my adjustment and offered a compromise. While Hofstra’s law school couldn’t accept me, the graduate school could allow me to work toward a master’s degree. In his letter, he asked what I would like to study.

I shared my belief that mass incarceration represented one of the greatest social injustices of our time. I expressed my desire to study prisons. Professor Cohen explained that Hofstra’s graduate school didn’t have a criminal justice program but suggested I focus my studies in anthropology, sociology, or political science.

His offer bolstered my hope, and I eagerly agreed. To accommodate my unique circumstances, Professor Cohen and his colleagues structured a customized program for me. He visited me in prison. Initially, I was placed on a probationary status, and upon successfully completing that phase, I became a full student. Through the program, I published papers in peer-reviewed journals and developed relationships with leading penologists. These achievements further solidified my commitment to the three-pronged plan I had developed: to educate myself, contribute to society, and build a support network.

In 1995, Hofstra awarded me a Master of Arts degree. That milestone gave me an immense sense of accomplishment and reinforced the belief that I could transform my life despite the challenges of incarceration. Professor Cohen’s willingness to take a chance on me was instrumental in my journey, influencing not only my adjustment to prison but also the direction of my work to advocate for systemic change.

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