Meet Yasmeen

My name is Yasmeen. Before incarceration, I lived what most would call an everyday life. I spent 18 years in the medical field, first as a senior phlebotomist and later as an instructor in allied health. I taught medical assistants, phlebotomists, and patient care technicians. I was proud of the life I built. My dream was to one day become an entrepreneur, but I also wanted to stay in the medical field and possibly return to school to become a dentist or a dental hygienist.

But my life shifted when I ran out of my mental health medication. I spiraled into a dark place. I met a man online who saw I was vulnerable and manipulated me into things that led to my arrest.

The day I was incarcerated is burned into my memory. I was dropping someone off and heading to the expressway when eight police cars surrounded me. I had never been in trouble before, and the first time I did, that’s how I was arrested. 

I moved across five counties. My first stop was Cobb County in November 2019, right before COVID hit. When the pandemic began, they stopped bringing in new people. Pods that used to hold dozens were down to three to ten of us. They ran out of food. We didn’t have bread, full meals, or even consistent access to medication. On the outside, people were struggling, but imagine being locked inside with no control, no information, and no way to protect yourself. We only learned about COVID-19 through newspapers when they became available to us. Sometimes, whole sections were ripped out. It felt like the end of the world, like a zombie apocalypse, and we thought we were all going to die inside.

Emotionally, I went numb. At first, I was in denial, but when I realized how long my journey might be, I tried to channel my energy into helping others. In every county I was held in, people called me ‘Knowledge.’ I’d sit down with them and say, ‘This is your chance for a rebirth. Write down your business plan. Make a list of how you’ll do things differently when you come home.’ Motivating others helped me survive.

My bail was $6,000. In DeKalb County, where I finally had the chance to bond out, Bard Business came through for me. At first, I didn’t even believe the organization was real. I had kept their phone number for a year, just in case. When my attorney finally reached out and told me they’d help, I was breathless. It felt like proof that people like me, Black and brown people fighting for justice, were not forgotten.

Without them, I would still be in there. There was no timeline for my release. It could have been years. Bard Business not only bailed me out, but they also placed me in the S.T.A.B.L.E. Program (a leadership, housing, and economic empowerment program), helped me with clothing, job training, and even offered me the chance to work with them.

But incarceration changed everything. I lost my career in the medical field. Now I can’t return because it’s a felony. If Bard Business hadn’t given me opportunities, I don’t know what I would’ve done; I probably would have gone back to the streets.

Yasmeen (fourth to the right) with Barred Business organizers.

Instead, I’m a community organizer with them now. I help with bail outs, attend trainings, and speak out. At first, I didn’t even know what organizing meant. I thought it was office work. But once I learned it was about fighting for the rights of our people, I knew this was my calling.

I want to be remembered as a strong leader, someone who is positive and approachable, someone people can always count on. To those who’ve supported me, I say thank you. I am forever indebted, forever grateful for a second chance at life, and I carry that blessing into every day I spend helping others.

If I could tell anyone who has recently bailed out on something, I’d say, ‘Don’t give up. There’s a family out there willing to stand with you, whether in court or in life. For me, that family was Bard Business.’

Almost six years behind bars changed me. It was traumatizing to lose everything in the blink of an eye. But it also gave me a new outlook. I survived, and now I get to turn that survival into something bigger, into a fight for others who deserve the same chance at freedom.”