Montana Tarpley found a cause within her own life, one that was shaped, tested, and ultimately forged by the same system she now works to dismantle, one life at a time. As the founder of Second Hands Reentry & Youth Empowerment Hub, based in Danville, Virginia, Tarpley runs a dual-mission program that serves at-risk youth and formerly incarcerated adults, working with them not just through the justice system, but long after the gates close behind them.
The work she leads is carved from memory, where every program carries the weight of what she once faced alone.
Returning home from incarceration often means stepping into uncertainty with little guidance and even less support. Tarpley's early life has seen that reality, which unfolded through instability, loss, and environments that pulled her toward choices she was not yet equipped to navigate. "Being around the wrong crowds, losing my parents at a young age, trying to grow up too fast; that essentially was the crux of my life," Tarpley says, recalling the period that set the course of her eventual incarceration.
Her release in 2013, which should have offered relief, exposed a different hardship.
Studies show that nearly 44% of incarcerated people released return before the first year out of prison. Behind those statistics are human beings who came home to nothing. No housing, no job pipeline, no one tracking their progress. Tarpley was one of them. After reentering society, she came back to a community that offered almost no structured support. The experience, however, didn't break her. It built her blueprint.
"When you realize that there's nothing out there for you, you want to go back to your old ways," Tarpley says. "Behind bars, you have a bed to sleep in, you're getting three meals, so what's the worry? But that mindset is certainly destructive. That's why I knew I had to do something about this."
Second Hands was built to interrupt that pattern with intention and persistence. Each person entering the program undergoes a detailed intake process that examines legal status, eligibility for expungement, and immediate needs. From there, the work becomes deeply personal.
"You can't do anything unless you work on yourself first," Tarpley says. With self-growth as its pillar, Second Hands emphasizes healing, followed by job skills, financial literacy, budgeting, and practical life management. Participants can learn how to manage everyday responsibilities and adapt skills essential for stability. "We need to know what skills to cover, what classes to put them in, what risks to take with them," she adds.
The support doesn't end once milestones are reached. According to Tarpley, Second Hands maintains long-term involvement, building accountability systems that keep individuals connected and supported well beyond initial placement. She also partners with schools, courts, probation and parole officers, juvenile group homes, and law-enforcement-adjacent organizations.
Services, she adds, are delivered in person, virtually, and through house visits. The geographic constraint of a zip code has never been a condition of her commitment. "They're never really leaving," Tarpley says. "Even when they're on their own, I'm still there, making sure they're doing what they're supposed to do."
The youth arm of Second Hands functions as a prevention mechanism, targeting at-risk youth and those already involved with the justice system through an eight-week Youth Prep Course. This summer, Tarpley is piloting a five-week wilderness camp at Camp Parsons in Woodbridge, Virginia, built around canoeing, biking, meditation, and de-escalation techniques. The goal, as Tarpley defines it, is to ultimately help young people discover their own identity before the system defines it for them.
"At the end of the day, when they walk away, they know who they are, and they know what the world is prepared for," she says.
Research shows that mentoring programs and follow-up support report moderate success in reducing recidivism and substance abuse. Second Hands leans into that evidence while instilling something critical: trust. Tarpley's own experience creates an immediate connection with participants who often approach systems with hesitation. She says, "They know I've been through what they've been through. It makes it more comfortable, it makes it real."
At present, Second Hands is transitioning from a self-funded initiative into a non-profit hybrid model, actively seeking sponsors and partnerships to expand transportation services, strengthen housing partnerships, and support programs like the youth empowerment camp. "Right now, we're already making an impact with what we have. But with more support, that impact can cascade toward many more people," Tarpley explains.
Ambition for the future extends far beyond incremental growth. Tarpley envisions dedicated housing spaces where individuals leaving incarceration can live, work, and rebuild stability in one place. Employment opportunities, food access, wellness resources, and community support would exist under one roof, removing the uncertainty that often defines reentry.
She sees replicable versions of this model in Richmond, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia in the future. With every new location, Tarpley seeks to establish a new standard for how communities respond to reentry and youth risk.
Ultimately, Montana Tarpley's work challenges the assumption that second chances are optional or conditional. Instead, it presents them as essential and achievable when accountability and care are upheld over time. Her legacy, if realized, will be found in the individuals who no longer see incarceration as an inevitable return, but as a chapter they were able to close for good.
