My Criminal Record Somehow Vanished
Sixteen years ago, during my last semester of law school, I caused a drunk-driving crash that killed my girlfriend. I pleaded guilty to negligent manslaughter and faced up to a decade in prison, but thanks to my girlfriend’s family’s forgiveness and whatever unearned sympathy I received as a middle-class white man, my sentence amounted to a few months in jail followed by several years on probation. Considering the sentences faced by many, I’d been very lucky.
Ever since, I’ve been among the 80 million Americans living with a criminal record and all its consequences. I’ve fantasized about what my life would be like if my record simply vanished. Not long ago, it sort of did—one more instance of a system that’s not just unjust but also capricious and poorly administered.
Given how , a criminal record is not an especially accurate indicator of guilt, nor is it necessarily an indicator of what kind of person someone is, particularly years after what may have been the worst deed of their life. Collateral consequences—legal and regulatory restrictions and discrimination that apply to people
