Ex-Offenders Seek Second Chances as Barriers to Jobs Crack

At 8am on September 17, outside a shopping plaza in a Henan Province city, a small crowd pressed forward. Some were jobseekers, clutching resumes. Others looked tense. Among them was 25-year-old Lin Yong, who carried something unusual in his bag: a copy of his sentencing paper.

Lin had not come for an ordinary recruitment fair. He was there for a rare opportunity – a round of interviews where every candidate had a criminal record.

Pangdonglai, a supermarket chain in Henan, made headlines recently by opening positions specifically for people with criminal records. The company's founder Yu Donglai even attended the interviews in person, telling applicants they had already "paid the price" and deserved a chance to rebuild.

For now, 30 people with criminal records have been given contracts and a chance to work.

Lin was arrested and served a four-year sentence before finishing his degree. After release, he completed community correction and briefly considered starting his own business. But the burden of his past followed him everywhere. Employers often asked for certificates proving no criminal record, even for jobs where the law does not require it.

"I just hope I can get along with my supervisors and prove I'm capable," Lin said quietly. "I want to work, not to be judged forever." He was quoted in a report by Jiefang Daily.

For many like Lin, prison is only the start of hardship. The real struggle begins upon release.

Du Gang, 37, knows this better than most. He served more than three years for intentional injury and misuse of medical insurance reimbursements. When he re-entered society, he tried to rebuild his life.

At a medical equipment company, he excelled and was promoted to sales manager. Then came the request for a "no criminal record" certificate. He could not provide one. Overnight, the promotion vanished.

"With so many clean applicants, why would companies choose someone like me?" Du told the Shanghai-based newspaper.

Du's wife was the one who pushed him to apply.

The requirements seemed fair: a middle-school degree or above, and sentences capped at 10 years. With a diploma and more than a decade of sales experience, Du believed he was qualified.

But the thousand days behind bars had left deep scars. Time moved so slowly inside that he began counting the prison wall bricks to mark its passage.

By the time Du was released in August 2023, he braced for the worst – divorce. Instead, he was met by his five-year-old daughter, who ran to him clutching a photograph. "Are you my dad?" she asked, puzzled at his gaunt frame after losing more than 25 kilograms. Du managed a smile: "What do you think?"

His wife, standing by, told him to take a long shower to wash away the "bad aura" of prison. Then she took four days' leave from work so they could return to his hometown together, to rest and start again.

"Clean applicants will always have an advantage," Du reflected later. "But at least with Pangdonglai, I felt like someone was willing to give us a chance."

Employment specialists note that manufacturing firms tend to be more pragmatic, but competitive industries remain wary. Stigma, rather than law, is the larger barrier.

Although Chinese law restricts only a few professions – such as civil service, teaching, and some food-related jobs – many employers continue to demand proof of a clean record. For ex-offenders, this often means automatic rejection.

"It's not about the law, it's about perception," said one Beijing-based labor law scholar. "Employers worry about risk, about trust, about how other employees or customers might react. So they play it safe."

Yu Donglai's decision to hire ex-offenders was part of a broader recruitment drive. In August, he announced that 2 percent of the company's 1,000 new positions would be reserved for people with criminal records.

The move stirred debate online: some praised the inclusiveness, while others expressed doubts about safety. A few business owners even pledged to follow Pangdonglai's example, though on a smaller scale.

For Yu, the message was straightforward. He promised early salary payments to help the new hires secure housing and urged them not to feel inferior.

For Lin, the job offer feels like a fresh start. For Du, even participating in the interviews was a signal that doors may not stay closed forever. Whether their stories remain exceptions or become the first of many will depend on whether other employers believe that second chances can benefit both individuals and society.