CA- Sex offenders try to erase laws marking them for life

12-7-2008 California:

AUSTIN — Martin is tired of the dead-end jobs and unrelenting stigma that comes with being a registered sex offender.

Although he has a master's degree in liberal arts and wants to be a teacher, employers have been unable to see beyond his presence on the state's sex offender registry, which he is required to be on for the rest of his life.

It's true that a decade ago, he was convicted of sexually abusing a 16-year-old girl who was half his age. But the registry doesn't divulge that his victim was his girlfriend who now is his common-law wife, with whom he has three children.

Glancing at his profile, there's little to distinguish him from the repeat pedophiles and violent rapists who are among the 54,000-plus registered sex offenders in the state's database.

“I just can't equate my offense with the guy who sat next to me in my therapy sessions who raped his 5-year-old stepson,” said Martin, 42. He asked that his last name not be used for this article for fear that his children will be stigmatized.

The military veteran, who lives with his family in a bedroom community south of Austin, is so mad about his lifetime registration requirement that he's joined forces with hundreds of other sex offenders similarly aggrieved about being on the registry.

This unlikely political force, which dubs itself Texas Voices, is vowing to fight the state's — and the nation's — sweeping registration laws.

The group believes community notification laws fail to protect the public because they don't distinguish dangerous predators from otherwise harmless men and women who foolishly had sex with underage lovers, served their sentences and don't need a lifetime of public scrutiny.

While Texas Voices hasn't yet turned anyone away, the group targets its message at those who committed non-violent offenses that didn't involve young children.

Selling the concept to the public may be more difficult; Texas law stipulates that minors, defined as anyone younger than 17, can't legally consent to sex with an adult.

But Texas Voices is finding agreement in unusual places.

Ray Allen, the former Texas House Corrections chairman who helped shepherd into law many of the past decade's toughest sex registration bills, said he and his colleagues went too far.

“We cast the net widely to make sure we got all the sex offenders. Now, 15 years on, it turns out that really only a small percentage of people convicted of sex offenses pose a true danger to the public,” he said.

Sen. John Whitmire, D-Houston, the powerful Senate Criminal Justice chairman, said: “If we're not careful, we're going to have a sex offender registry that is so large and so encompassing, it's not much good.”

Texas Voices members know their chances for success hinge on politicians risking their careers on a population with just about zero political clout.

Sen. Florence Shapiro, R-Plano, who has been a driving force behind the community notification laws, isn't ready to assume that risk — or have victims assume it. She insists that if the registry is too large, it's because there are too many people out there committing sex crimes.

“If one child is saved, then the laws will be worth what we've done,” Shapiro said.

Fighting back

Dozens of offenders, along with moms, dads and significant others, show up for the monthly Texas Voices' meetings, sharing stories and plotting strategy.

Some meet privately with lawmakers. The most committed spend days and nights scrolling through the registry seeking to recruit new members. Nearly 1,000 offenders have been contacted and about 300 have heeded the call to action, organizers say.

“We're getting letters from ladies in their 20s who say, ‘I was never a victim and I didn't know my offender was on the registry,'” said Mary Sue, the mother of a jailed sex offender who helped establish the organization earlier this year. She asked that her last name not be used for fear it would have negative consequences for her son.

Martin's common-law wife, Avea, now 27, says she's ready to tell lawmakers that her husband is a decent man whose dream of being a high school teacher is forever dashed because of a decade-old offense that, barring changes in the registry law, will follow him the rest of his life.

“Even murderers can get out of prison and lead a normal life,” she said.

And Martin's public profile raises questions about the registry's ability to keep tabs on offenders.

The registry listed an old Austin address for Martin, despite the fact that Martin registered his new address with police in October, confirmed a police captain in the town where Martin relocated several months ago.

Officials with the Texas Department of Public Safety, which maintains the sex offender database, said Friday they received the information in late October, but hadn't updated the registry. The site was updated only after the San Antonio Express-News called.

The registry also gives an inaccurate age for Martin's victim at the time of the offense, listing her as 17, rather than 16.

At a recent Texas Voices meeting, Richard Calderon tells those gathered that the road to public acceptance is to advocate for victims, not sex offenders.

“Once elected leaders hear sex offenders, you've lost them,” he said, adding, “Concern about public safety and how we can improve public safety” is much more effective.

Calderon, 38, is one of the group's founders. He served probation for having sex with a 14-year-old when he was 23 and a student teacher.

He tells his audience not to expect miracles.

About the best members should expect in next year's legislative session, Calderon said, is a bill that would distinguish pedophiles and violent offenders from those who had sex with an underage girlfriend or who urinated in public a few times.

Ashley's law

Texas' first community notification law was passed in 1995 and named for Ashley Estell, the 7-year-old girl who was snatched from a North Texas playground and murdered by a sex offender parolee.

The first notices were printed in local newspapers. An online registry followed in 1999. Since then, the number of registered offenders has more than tripled to 54,000, including nearly 7,500 who committed their crimes as juveniles, according to the Texas Department of Public Safety. Most offenders now must register for life.

But not all sex offenders pose the same dangers.

According to a 2003 U.S. Justice Department study, about 5 percent of sex offenders released from prison were re-arrested for another sex crime within three years, a recidivism rate lower than for many other types of crimes. And 3 percent of all child sex offenders were arrested for another sex crime involving a child within the same time period.

Dr. Fred Berlin, founder of the John Hopkins Sexual Disorders Clinic, said most studies showed that “as a group, sex offenders show lower recidivism rates than people who commit most other crimes. If you look at almost all the laws out there on the books, they usually have been enacted following a horrible crime, a sexual assault and murder, which represent a tiny fraction of sex offenses.”

Advocates generally have pushed for the registration laws, believing parents needed to know when a sex offender moved into their neighborhood.

Annette Burrhus-Clay, executive director of the Texas Association Against Sexual Assault, concedes the registry may include people who don't pose a public safety threat.

However, the bigger problem, she said, is the number of those who aren't on the registry — but should be — because they either weren't caught or they pleaded to a lesser, non-sex-related offense.

Linda Ingraham, a psychologist in Dallas who has treated sex offenders in her private practice, said most people would be surprised at the number of low-risk misdemeanor offenders. She said she's probably treated 200 people who were forced to register because they were caught several times having consensual sex in a park.

“It's yucky,” she said, “but as a group, they're not a danger to anyone.”

Searching for victims

From her two-story suburban home north of Austin, Jan Fewell, 50, searches for sex abuse victims in order to help their perpetrators.

“Do you know a man named Stephen Fisher?” she asked into her cell phone. “Do you still keep in touch with him? You do? Was it consensual sex or was it rape?”

She had just phoned a now 23-year-old mother of two. Combing through court records, Fewell learned the woman, at age 13, had had sex with Fisher, a man five years her senior. Fewell knew the woman had refused to help prosecutors and now, a decade later, Fewell wanted to know if she considered herself a victim, and if not, if she would be willing to help her group.

The call from a stranger to a sex abuse victim could have easily ended badly, but the woman indeed had remained close to the man who's serving eight years in prison in connection with sexually assaulting her.

Later, in an interview, the woman explained she regularly visits the man in prison, is raising the two children he fathered with her, and counting the days until his release. Yes, she would be receptive to helping the group.

As the mother of adult daughters, Fewell is an unlikely advocate for sex offenders. She became involved after one of her daughter's teenage schoolmates was arrested for sexually abusing a younger teen. Now, she works full time recruiting members for the group.

At one of the group's recent meetings, Jerry Tuckner, who sat beside his mother and his girlfriend's 8-year-old son, talked about how hard it is to get a job.

Tuckner, 36, was sentenced to probation for having sex with a 15-year-old when he was 23.

The victim's father, Patrick Peterson, 55, said he was furious when he found out a 23-year-old man was having sex with his teenage daughter. He turned Tuckner in after he refused to stay away from her.

But Peterson was disturbed to learn that Tuckner remains on the state's sex offender registry. “I felt obligated at the time because (Tuckner) was a bit older,” Peterson said by phone last week. Now he said he'd gladly sign a petition urging leniency for Tuckner.

Neither landlords nor minimum-wage employers want to deal with sex offenders, Tuckner complained.

“I've tried everything from fast food to dry cleaners to warehouse work to temp agencies,” he said. “Even the temp agencies won't hire me because they say I'm a liability.” ..News Source.. by Lisa Sandberg - Express-News