California’s Incarcerated Firefighters: Turning Redemption Into a Lifesaving Career
The sight of incarcerated firefighters battling California’s relentless wildfires often raises more questions than answers. Is this program a valuable opportunity for rehabilitation and redemption, or is it an exploitative system that undervalues human life? My own experience witnessing inmate firefighters in Altadena prompted reflection, but a conversation with Sam Lewis, Executive Director of the Anti-Recidivism Coalition (ARC), offers a deeper perspective.
Driving through Altadena’s Meadows neighborhood days after the Eaton wildfire broke out, I saw a group of wildfire fighters working hard to clear brush. Their uniforms identified them as participants in California’s Conservation Camp Program, which trains incarcerated individuals to assist professional firefighters. As of January 17, there are 1,116 Fire Camp firefighters working on fires across Los Angeles. When I stopped to thank them, one man shyly asked if I could take their photo. But when I tried to ask questions about their work, they said they weren’t allowed to respond.
This brief encounter left me with a mix of admiration for their bravery and discomfort with the restrictions imposed on them. I couldn’t help but wonder—was this program truly about rehabilitation, or was it a form of modern-day exploitation?
Voluntary, but Not for Everyone
Lewis highlighted the program’s evolution over the years. “In 2018, we worked with CAL FIRE and the Department of Corrections to create a pathway for participants to become professional firefighters after release. Now, people can go to the Ventura Training Center, earn certifications like Firefighter Type 1 and EMT, and start careers. Over 200 formerly incarcerated people have become firefighters since then, including three in Orange County.”
As images of the program participants circulated on social media, many people took issue with the program and made it out to be forced labor. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. Lewis shared a nuanced view of the program, emphasizing its voluntary nature. “The camps are voluntary,” he said. “For some people, it’s an opportunity they want to take. I’ve mentored a young man who decided to try the fire camps, but after a month, he realized it wasn’t for him. He went back to finish his time elsewhere. But for others, it’s what they want to do, and they know the training and challenges involved.”
William, a program participant, shared his experience fighting the fires in Altadena. “We’ve been doing fire prevention,” he explained. “Going around neighborhoods, cutting behind houses, pushing brush bags, and making sure no fire pushes up. It’s dangerous, but that’s the decision we choose. It’s about helping the community, seeing smiles on people’s faces, and knowing we’re saving homes and everything people have worked hard for.”
William’s journey to the fire camp wasn’t automatic. “I got arrested at a young age,” he said. “I did my time, stayed out of trouble, and programmed, which is what they call it when you focus on staying on the right path. That’s how I got the opportunity to come to fire camp. It’s all about staying focused and making the most of the chance you’re given.”
For William, the program has been life-changing. “This gives me a big step. It’s the first time I’ve been part of something big, and it’s given me the opportunity to build a career, help my family, and change my life.”
Lewis pointed out a key choice: “You’re going to do time anyway—how do you want to do it?” For those who commit to the program, there’s now a solid pathway to turn it into a career. Participants can move on to the Ventura Training Center to earn certifications and, thanks to legislation like Senate Bill 731, even expunge their records, paving the way for employment with CAL FIRE or municipal fire departments.
But there is one thing that should be fixed. And it's about fair pay.
Pay Disparities and Legislative Momentum
The program has long been criticized for its low wages. Incarcerated firefighters earn $5.80 to $10.24 daily, plus $1 an hour when actively fighting fires—far below California’s minimum wage of $16.50 an hour. However, recent attention has sparked action.
“Assemblymember Isaac Bryan introduced Assembly Bill 147 to ensure incarcerated firefighters earn the same pay as the lowest-paid professionals on the line,” Lewis explained. The bill was partly inspired by increased media coverage and public support from figures like Kim Kardashian and Chris Brown, whose advocacy brought the issue to a wider audience.
Lewis underscored the importance of fair pay, noting, “These are people putting their lives on the line to save our property. They do it willingly—this isn’t a chain gang. And if someone decides it’s not for them, they can leave without punishment. But those who stay deserve to be treated and compensated as the professionals they are.”
Paths to Reintegration
One of the program’s most helpful aspects is helping participants find employment after release. For years, criminal records blocked many from obtaining the necessary EMT licenses required by city or county fire departments.
In response, California passed a bill allowing record expungement for participants, but as Lewis explained, the process isn’t automatic. “You have to meet requirements, provide letters of support, and demonstrate rehabilitation. But if you do your part, it’s almost guaranteed.”
For William, the program offers more than just a job—it’s about becoming part of something bigger. “It’s dangerous work, but it’s worth it,” he said. “I’d recommend it to others because it gives you an opportunity to make something of yourself. It’s not just about fighting fires—it’s about helping people and building a future.”
Judge Songhai Armstead, Executive Director of Los Angeles County’s Justice Care and Opportunities Department (JCOD), sees her organization as a bridge between the fire camps and long-term success. “These people out here, like you said, they’re our local heroes, saving our communities. But when they leave here, the question is, what’s next? We provide the ‘what’s next.’”
Armstead explained that participants can continue firefighting through the county’s fire training center or pursue other career paths. “Through our providers, we offer training in everything from auto mechanics to welding, the building trades, and even substance use counseling,” she said. “We’re an umbrella to get people out of the system, keep them out of the system, and give them opportunities to return to their community and live out their purpose.”
For those still in the system, connecting with JCOD is straightforward. “We fund over 500 community-based organizations throughout Los Angeles County,” Armstead shared. “We have a call center that operates seven days a week and provides services like transportation to court, housing, or training. Our goal is to support people holistically, including mentorship and mental health services, because reintegrating into society requires more than just job training—it’s about changing mindsets and breaking cycles.”
Lewis, who spent 24 years in prison, sees the program as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. “When you invest in people—people who have made mistakes but are not bad people—you see the best versions of them. These firefighters are heroes, saving lives and property, and proving what’s possible when we give people a chance. I spent 24 years in prison for murder and attempted murder. In 2023, I had my record expunged, which now allows me to work with kids in schools to prevent them from ending up in the system. The process tells the story of who you were and who you’ve become. It’s about demonstrating that transformation.”
Investing in People
The debate over California’s inmate firefighter program reflects broader questions about the criminal justice system. Is it enough to provide opportunities like fire camps, or does the system need a fundamental overhaul?
“Our carceral system is way too big, and it’s systemically racist,” Lewis said. “But when we invest in people—people who have made mistakes but are not bad people—we see the best versions of them. The 200 formerly incarcerated firefighters currently on the front lines are proof of the resiliency of the human spirit.”
He added, “Some will say, ‘They deserve to be there and don’t deserve anything.’ But I’d ask: if it were your son or daughter, wouldn’t you want them to have a chance to be their best self? Wouldn’t you want to invest in their future rather than throw them away forever?”
California’s Conservation Camp Program highlights the potential of incarcerated individuals to contribute meaningfully to society. As public attention grows and legislative changes like AB 147 gain traction, there’s hope for a future where these firefighters are not just seen as disposable labor but as people with value and potential. It’s time to ensure that those who risk their lives to protect our communities are rewarded with dignity, opportunity, and a path to a brighter future.
To donate to the ARC Firefighter Fund, click here.