I Thought I Was a Psychologist
By: Dr. Lisa Weisz-Lipton
Tags: Recidivism, Pyschology, Prison Reform, Student Loans, Licensing

I Thought I Was a Psychologist

I am a professor, a mother, a public health practitioner, and a clinician. I have a Masters and Doctorate in Applied Clinical Psychology. Yet, the state of California reduces me to a singular aspect of my identity: I am person with a felony conviction.

In 2006, long before I went back to school, I was working as a mortgage broker in Houston. On the heels of the government deregulation of lending practices that caused the 2008 financial crisis, I participated in mortgage lending practices in 2006 that years later would be looked back at and deemed improper, even illegal. I wouldn’t find that out for years.

In 2007, I left the mortgage industry and moved to California. I started at Santa Monica College, eventually earning a Bachelor’s and then a Master’s. I completed 3,000 hours of hours of Master’s level intern hours working under supervision and began a PsyD program.

In 2012, much to my surprise, I was indicted by the federal government for one count of conspiracy to commit mortgage fraud for my actions that had occurred years before.

While big banks received bailouts, mortgage brokers, real estate agents, and loan officers received federal indictments. I plead guilty and received a 52-month prison sentence. My PsyD program was interrupted when I self-surrendered to the federal prison camp at Dublin, California.

The United States has the highest incarceration rate in the entire world, despite also having higher crime rates than most other high-income nations. The recidivism rate — the rate of people incarcerated who reoffend — is incredibly high. Statistics vary because it’s not something we’re good at measuring but hover around 50%. Any other costly government intervention that had a 50% failure rate would be considered a failure and revamped immediately. Yet, in America, we keep relying on incarceration.

I am a middle-class White woman, free from many of the detrimental stereotypes that surround other formerly incarcerated people. People of color are grossly over-represented in our system, the legacy of racist policies and unequal enforcement of the law.

Despite being relatively privileged, my experiences re-entering society after prison illuminate the profound structural flaws in our system — flaws that push people towards crime and make us all less safe. I feel that I am a resourceful person with the ability to remain sturdy while hitting barrier after barrier, from housing to licensure. I work with a population of formerly incarcerated persons who many of whom are stable enough to tolerate our barrier-laden systems. They recidivate and continue churning through the system; I see it and it breaks my heart.

The year I released from prison, I applied for my Masters-level license to practice as a psychotherapist. Awaiting my licensure, I began working at a Department of Mental Health contractor treating formerly incarcerated people with co-occurring disorders via California’s Assembly Bill 109. I work as unlicensed clinician (with supervision), assessing for mental health diagnoses in order to treat people in this population. My lived experience with incarceration combined with my education make me uniquely qualified and effective; I can relate to our clients.

The State of California’s Board of Behavioral Sciences denied me my license because of my criminal history. Professional licensing schemes that permanently exclude formerly incarcerated people have been recognized as a barrier to re-entry and something that increases recidivism and decreases health outcomes.

I was fortunate enough to be represented by a pro bono attorney who negotiated a set of arduous probationary terms with the Board of Behavioral Sciences with bilateral agreement, pending approval of the board. That was September of 2020 and I am still awaiting approval. I am up for a promotion at work — but it requires me to have a Masters level license at a minimum. Without a license number, there’s no moving up the ladder much less would I be able to move into private practice. I’ll be stuck in this lower-paying unlicensed role.

Before prison I was comfortable. I now struggle to pay my bills. If this is the experience of a privileged person, I ache to think of my friends who released from prison with fewer resources.

I completed my doctorate in June of 2020 and applied for PsyD-level license to practice psychology. It was denied in March of 2021 by the Board of Psychology because of my criminal history, for criminal conduct that occurred long before I ever began my studies.

I dedicated thousands of hours of my life to my education, to meeting my intern hours, not to mention the many thousands of dollars of student loans. Had I known I would be indicted and therefore prohibited from practicing in my field, I would have chosen another field.

I could be an asset to my community, at a time when our society is in desperate need of increased mental health care.

Yet, I am but one person. Professional licensure schemes such as this are denying thousands and thousands of Americans the opportunity to better their lives — and therefore reduce their recidivism risk. Perpetual punishment does not make us safer, to the contrary.

These prohibitions seem nonsensical because they are. They are based in racism and not genuine policy aims. Reforming professional and occupational licensure schemes is an urgent element to criminal justice reform. From a cosmetology license to nursing to psychology, a whole class of people are locked out of the livable-wage economy.

The State of California could live up to its ostensibly progressive values and invest in second chances.