When Noel Barrientos came home from federal prison in 2018, he believed the hardest part of his sentence was behind him. He had served three and a half years for a white-collar offense, and was eager to rebuild his life, reconnect with his two young daughters, and start a career. 

But Noel was placed on federal supervision, which meant his newfound freedom was fragile. He left prison only to be followed by a long list of unhelpful rules and by a system that fails to promote stability. 

He spent six months in a halfway house before beginning his supervision term. It was a trying time, and the rules of the house made it hard for him to see his daughters. He had to take two buses to get to his minimum wage job and then another two buses to get back to the house. “There were times when I was chasing after the bus,” he says. “Sometimes I’d miss it and get rained on.”

Still, he pressed on. He worked to rebuild his relationship with his wife and children. But even doing the most basic fatherly things, such as attending a family friend’s children’s birthday party, came with reminders that he wasn’t really free. His probation officer showed up wearing a bulletproof vest, gun in a holster, displaying a badge, and made Noel sign papers in full view of his kids and the other families.  

He dreamed of working in real estate, but Florida’s occupational licensing rules bar people on state or federal supervision from obtaining a professional real estate license. So he found a creative workaround: he joined a real estate company in a recruiter role, building skills and connections until he could apply for his license after supervision ended. Any sensible system would encourage such ingenuity. But instead, his efforts collided with the reality of federal supervision.

Noel is a real estate agent in Miami, FL

Because Noel traveled between different offices as part of his job, his probation officer viewed his mobility with suspicion. The officer would routinely show up at Noel’s primary office building, and if he wasn’t there at that exact moment, the officer would call and order him to report back immediately. But Noel’s role often involved traveling to other office buildings across Miami to meet with agents and staff he recruited. “He told me it didn’t matter,” Noel says. “If I didn’t drop everything and get to his location immediately, he would violate me and send me back to prison.”

The message was clear: Noel’s livelihood and future came second to the officer’s schedule.

One incident in particular illustrates the problem. While out to lunch with his new boss, Noel got one of those calls. The officer demanded that he leave his lunch and return to the office right away. Left with no choice, Noel rushed his boss to pay, abruptly ended the lunch, and raced out the door. Although he was able to explain his situation to his boss, the humiliation he felt in that moment lingered. 

“Your entire future feels like it can be destroyed over something as simple as a lunch meeting,” he says.

Despite these pressures, Noel maintained a perfect record on supervision: no violations, no missed check-ins, no failed drug tests. After more than a year of consistent compliance and steady employment, he applied for early termination of his supervision: the only path to finally obtaining his real estate license.

He couldn’t afford a private attorney to help him file the request, so he petitioned the court on his own. With his clean track record, he hoped the system would recognize his progress.

Instead, his request was denied with no explanation. Just “no.”

The denial hurt. It seemed to prove once and for all that no level of compliance or personal growth would ever be enough to earn him his freedom.

So he waited. Kept working. Kept pushing. And when he finally completed his full term of supervision, everything changed. He got his real estate license. He became one of the top agents in Miami. He rebuilt the career he had once only imagined from the confines of a halfway house. His daughters finally had their father home with no conditions attached. At last, he was fully home.

Noel on vacation with his family

Today he shares his story because he knows from experience how federal supervision can be better. The pressures he faced didn’t make anyone safer, and they certainly didn’t support successful reentry. He thrived in spite of supervision, not because of it. That needs to change.

That’s why Noel supports the Safer Supervision Act, federal legislation designed to build a fairer, stronger, more effective system. Sign up with REFORM to learn more about how you can help this bill pass.