When Regnarian “Reggie” came home, nothing about reentry was easy. He had returned not to his hometown of Brooklyn, but to Philadelphia, a city where he had no family, no friends, and, at first, no safe place to land. “The halfway house I was in had open drug use, theft, fights every day,” he told me. “I knew I had to advocate for myself if I wanted to survive.”
Despite the chaos around him, Reggie carried something many returning home needed: determination. When a caseworker noticed his persistence and his strong résumé, she pointed him to the Center for Employment Opportunities (CEO). Even though his parole officer discouraged him from pursuing the program, Reggie followed the opinions that mattered most: the participants who had walked the path before him.
“I didn’t wait for CEO to call me,” he said, laughing. “I showed up three, four, sometimes five times.” That persistence paid off. Reggie joined a transitional work crew, excelled, and was selected for CEO’s Emerging Leaders Program. From there, he built a pathway into communications, then workforce development, and ultimately into supportive services, where his lived experience became a powerful tool for removing barriers for others. Today, more than two years later, he’s known across CEO Philadelphia as a resource, an advocate, and someone who always finds a way.
Seeing Hunger Up Close During the SNAP Pause
When the national SNAP pause hit in 2025, Reggie felt its impact immediately. Not through headlines but through the people sitting in front of him every day. “I had participants coming in asking for bread. For a muffin. Not joking, literally hungry and embarrassed to ask. And members of my own family were struggling too.” For justice-impacted people, the pause wasn’t an inconvenience. It was a crisis. Many participants’ daily wages went toward fines, transit, or medications, leaving little left for food. Reggie watched people he worked with go days without eating.
“In America, everyone should be able to eat. Point blank, period,” he said. “I didn’t think we had time to ask a million questions to a million people. Something had to be done.”
So he stepped up. Reggie brought an idea to his director, who quickly elevated it. Within 48 hours, CEO Philly had approval to assemble emergency food bags for participants who suddenly had nothing in their kitchens. The problem? Reggie was a one-man supportive services team. But he knew he wasn’t alone.
“For You, Anything”: Building Community Power
Reggie turned to the people he thought might understand the most: participants in the Group Violence Intervention program, young men who were navigating their own complex reentry journeys. “I just asked them,” he said. “I said, ‘Look, this is what I want to do for you all, but I need help.’ And they said, ‘For you? Anything.’” One volunteer became The Mighty 7. Soon, they were not only packing bags but also grocery shopping beside him.
“To see a 21-year-old who’s been through so much walking the aisles picking out food to feed other people… they realized they were doing something powerful. They were literally saving someone from going to bed hungry.”
The Mighty 7, alongside staff members, stepped in during their lunch breaks to help pack bags, carry boxes, sort items, and check dietary restrictions. Reggie, who himself had been justice-impacted just two years ago, knew times had changed. He understood the importance of asking people what they truly needed in real time, rather than making assumptions about what they might need. He focused on mostly non-pork options, given the demographic, shelf-stable items, and microwavable meals for those living in shelters or halfway houses. With a focus on dignity and practicality, he and the volunteers made no assumptions and passed no judgment, ensuring that everyone received the support they truly needed.
“I wanted people to know someone cared enough to ask them what they needed and to consider what they could actually cook. That matters.”
What It Means to Step Up, Not Stand By
This moment reinforced something he already knew: advocacy requires action. “It’s easy to sit in a room and say, ‘We should do this,’ or, ‘We should do that,’” he said. “It takes more to go against the grain and actually do the right thing when no one’s watching.”For Reggie, stepping up isn’t optional, it's responsibility.This is the work he believes can transform reentry and he hopes the community continues to invest in it.
Now that the SNAP pause has ended, the need has not. The effects linger, and Reggie hopes people, especially those who struggled for the first time, don’t forget what it felt like.
“I hope they remember that while they were hungry, there were others who were hungry too. And that the next time someone needs your help, you'd better have the compassion and empathy that was shown to you while you were down.”
How Anyone Can Support Justice-Impacted People Today
Reggie’s answer was simple:
- Support supportive services.
At CEO and beyond. Mental health care, housing assistance, food, and hygiene items are the building blocks of stability. - Donate resources, clothes, time, and money.
You can support in whatever way works for you. Make a monetary gift through CEO’s donation page or use our locations page to find a site near you where you can bring clothing, hygiene items, or other resources. - See people. Really see them.
“Ask someone, ‘Are you okay today?’ ‘Do you need socks? A job referral?’ Sometimes that’s all someone needs.” - Don’t be afraid of justice-impacted people.
“If you know someone coming home, don’t shy away. Be present. Be human.”
“No amount of support is too small,” he said. “Sometimes just hearing ‘I believe in you’ is everything.”
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