Kansas Jail Hires Former Inmate to Break Cycle

For two decades, Jodi Whitt knew the Shawnee County jail in Topeka, Kansas, from the inside. She'd get arrested, spend 30 days locked up, then get released with nothing but the clothes on her back before the cycle started again.

Now she walks into that same jail every morning, feeds her cat first, does her hair and makeup, then sits down at her own desk decorated with inspirational quotes and a small blue Rotary banner. But this time, she's there to help.

In 2019, Whitt got sober and committed to treatment. She enrolled in a University of Kansas technology program for formerly incarcerated women and rebuilt her life piece by piece.

Then she made a decision that changed everything. "I wanted to go back into the jail and help the women, because that's where I needed the help," she says. "That's where I needed the intervention."

Enter Patti Mellard, a Topeka mom with unstoppable energy and a mission. In 2021, she formed the Rotary Club of Community Action Against Human Trafficking, one of a growing number of cause-based Rotary clubs fighting this issue across America.

The mayor calls Mellard "stubborn in the right way, doesn't take no for an answer." She asked Whitt to join their mentorship program helping women transition out of jail.

What started as mentorship grew into something bigger. The club became a key reentry service provider in Shawnee County, interrupting the cycle of incarceration for women who, like Whitt, had nowhere else to turn.

Human trafficking happens anywhere, including small towns in Kansas. Victims often end up in jail, trapped in a system that releases them without resources or support, making it nearly impossible to escape.

Why This Inspires

Whitt's transformation represents something powerful: people who've lived through trauma often make the best healers. Her lived experience gives her credibility and empathy that traditional social workers can't replicate.

The program proves that meaningful intervention doesn't have to wait until after release. By meeting women where they are, inside the jail walls, the Rotary club catches them at their most vulnerable moment and offers real support.

Topeka's approach flips the script on incarceration. Instead of warehousing people and releasing them to repeat the cycle, they're investing in relationships and resources that actually work.

"Sometimes I can't believe this is my life now," Whitt says from her cozy office, surrounded by resource handbooks waiting to be delivered to women who were once exactly like her.