The other men exit the room as Nathan settles down in his chair, next to the plaque he just received. Class finished a few minutes ago. For most of the others, they’ll be back in a month to continue. But today is graduation day for Nathan, he has officially completed the Pathway to New Beginnings program at Urban Ventures.

The Pathway program began as a pilot with the Minneapolis Department of Justice. The impressive results have made it a template for cities around the nation looking for a different approach to nonviolent firearm arrests.

Nathan's journey to the program mirrors that of others — by choice, albeit a constrained one. "I didn't want to be here," Nathan admits, "but it was either this or jail. So, I figured I'd endure the stupid program."

Pathway offers an alternative for individuals arrested for unlawful firearm possession, often discovered during unrelated activities. Nathan, like many, was apprehended during a traffic stop. "I was on my way to my mom's house," he explains. "Someone had broken into her garage, and I was going to help secure it." Instead, he found himself in front of a judge.

Previously, such charges meant jail time and/or a fine. Minneapolis recognized this punishment did little to deter residents from carrying unregistered weapons, as most were rearrested within a year. For many, a criminal record meant lost work opportunities and social support, fostering desperation and likely leading to further crime. It was a feedback loop where the intended solution only amplified the issue.

Pathway adopts a different stance. Looking back, he laughs about his initial attitude. “I was 100% the rebellious teenager. I assumed it was all part of a system to punish me. I didn’t like the idea of it.” However, he began to sense that something was different about this approach.

The program was conceived by Priscilla Brown, a trained therapist profoundly affected by gun violence — her son was killed by an unregistered firearm. Her grief catalyzed a quest to understand the prevalence of gun violence and potential deterrents.

Pathway aims to address the root causes of firearm offenses. Many, like Nathan, feel compelled to carry a weapon for protection. "You experience things very young, and they become your norm." He hadn’t even reached middle school before his first experience with gun violence.

Around 10 years old, while outside a local market, older kids started ushering them around the corner. Behind him, Nathan heard yelling, and then gunshots. Not long after that he was talking to a friend about defending himself. Like most teenage boys he was convinced he could win a fight. His friend paused before making a sobering statement, “Man, people don’t fight anymore.”

“It’s so rooted in the community,” Nathan reveals. “You end up having to brace yourself all the time. Everything is so volatile. It can go from me and you having a conversation to shots fired.” Nathan shares stories that, sadly, are too common where he grew up: being robbed at gunpoint, kids dying from stray bullets, a family member who was murdered due to mistaken identity.

“You realize that nobody is going to come save you. But a Black man with a gun is considered a criminal. I just want to make it home. But it’s not seen as wanting to defend ourselves, it’s not considered our right as citizens.”

It can feel like there is no alternative path. The feedback loop intensifies. It’s a literal arms race between those who cause harm and those trying to avoid it. “We’re taught conflict. We’re taught disconnection. We’re not taught the resolution and reconciliation piece of life. We only know what we see, and that’s a lot of trauma.”

Asked what makes Pathway different, Nathan doesn’t hesitate. To him, it’s obvious. “This is not a gun diversion program. This is group therapy. And it’s needed.”

The program involves classes and exercises focused less on firearms and more on creating the life participants desire.. As Nathan explains, “As I got older it wasn’t the life I wanted for myself. But it was the life that was given to me.”

This feeling of being trapped creates a difficult tension. Nathan continues, “The most important term I learned in this class was ‘cognitive dissonance.’ I feel that, I was taught this life from an early age. I knew how to operate the gun before I knew the laws around it. You know it’s wrong, you know that your way of thinking is wrong, but you justify it.”

The program allowed Nathan to reflect on his motivations, distinguishing between reactions (emotionally driven) and responses (rooted in understanding). “Now I have the tools to think in a long-term state of mind, not just short term.”

He explains how the program has helped him strengthen his emotional intelligence. “I don’t need a gun to feel safe,” he says, “and this isn’t worth my life.” Overcoming his past's momentum is challenging, but during the last class, Maurice, one of the directors, reminded the men, “Be who you are, not who somebody else told you you’re going to be.”

Yet, the stigma of a criminal record persists. “People look at me and say, ‘there goes trouble.’ They judge me based on how I look. They don’t know I work in IT, that I’ve worked for Fortune 500 companies. They just see how I look and where I live and think they know me.”

A key Pathway benefit is the eventual expungement of records, which has significantly lowered recidivism rates among graduates. For Nathan, this was a decisive factor.

“We’re not criminals, we’re humans. Humans make mistakes. Mistakes are how we learn. Some of us just bump their heads harder than others.” He sees potential in programs like Pathway, designed with an understanding and kindness often absent in the legal system.

As a graduate, Nathan now focuses on reemployment and financial improvement. “It’s tough, there are so many barriers. I understand why guys say, ‘I might as well go back to what I know.’” But with newfound self-awareness, he remains hopeful. Maurice echoes the sentiment, “I have never seen someone get what we’re trying to do here as much as he does. He is the perfect example of what can happen in this program. Who knows, maybe in a few years Nate will be running this place.”