With guns drawn,plainclothesNewark police officers ordered 19-year-old James Elliott to lie on the front lawn of his parents' house in 2011, days after he had committed a violent armed robbery in search of money and drugs.
When Elliott looked up during hisarrest, he saw his shocked father, John, watching from the living room window with fear in his eyes, not knowing at first that the men were police officers.
"It was so surreal," Elliottsays.
After serving nearly sixyears in prison and returning to school, Elliott nowcan lookinto his father's eyes and see joyful pride.
His son defied the odds and wasnamed one of the top 20 community college students in the nation for his post-prisonstudies atDelaware TechnicalCommunityCollege.
Topping that off, just last weekElliott beat 13 others to beelectedthe international president of the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society, the first ex-conto be elected to that office.
In addition to his studies, Elliottfocuses on prison reform. He volunteers for a program that helps convicted felons navigate the system toobtain pardonsand expungements,the process that allows low-level criminal records to be erased.
Earlier this month, Elliott spoke at Legislative Hall in Doverin support of a Senate bill that would allow one-time felons and those convicted of misdemeanors to have their records expunged.
While everyone fromDel Tech officials to Phi Theta Kappa honor society leaders marvel atElliott'sredemption, his mother, Robin, says she always knew he would bounce back.
What he did on that windy night atNewark's University Courtyard Apartments—a home invasion while armed with a gun that left the victim with a broken eye socket —was not who he was, she said.
"So I told him, 'We have to get you through this. We have no choice,'" said Robin Elliott, who regularly visited Elliott in prison with his father. "It's just a bump in the road.'"
If Elliott had been looking for a sign on the night of the robbery —searching for what his future hadcoming —all he would have had to do was to look at the street sign.
The apartment was on Scholar Drive.
The crime
When Elliott entered the home with agun —he says itwasn't loaded —in search of drugsand a safe believed to be full of cash he was surprised to findfive people thereplaying video games.
One of Elliott'saccomplices used the butt of abaseball bat to shattertheorbital socket of one of them, and Elliott realizedthe robbery had takena turn for the worse.
While Elliott held the gun on the group, his accomplices took the injured victim to the room where the safe was. The victim foughtback again, pulling the mask off one of the accomplices whoknew the victim through buying drugs.
"I go into the room to see what's happening and theyare physically beating this guy," said Elliott, who fled with his accomplicesand the safe. His co-conspirators didn't tell him that the mask had come off.
The robbers found $700 in the safe along with credit card paperwork, according to court documents, and$140 from the victim's wallet. (Elliott said they made off withcloser to $2,000 that night, along with a half pound of marijuana.)
Elliott's accomplices were arrested a couple of days after the robbery because the victim identified one of the suspects.
Elliott didn't know they had been arrested. But a few days later, he was returning to his parents' home, just off Main Street in Newark, when he saw a police car in the neighborhood. He had a feeling they were after him, so he drove away.
When he returned later, he didn't see a police car and decidedto go inside.
When he got out of his car, Newarkofficers appeared, ordering him to the ground at gunpoint.
Howit started
Elliott now can point to his middle school yearsatWilmington Christian School in Hockessin as the start of the spiral of behaviors that led him to jail. He felt as though he was being treated differentlybecause he was biracial.
"I identified as a problem child.I liked to act out," admits Elliott, who wasstarting to drinkand smokemarijuana.
After leaving Wilmington Christian Schoolfor Newark High in 10th grade,theproblems escalated.
He stopped going to classand began attendinghouse parties, and wasbothtaking and dealing drugs.
While he only sold drugs such as marijuana, he experimented with just about everything includingacid andecstasy, all whilesmoking pot daily.
Once he started dealing, he soon learned that violence and drug dealing often go hand in hand.
"I wouldn't considermyself violent by nature, but when you're dealing drugs you're thrown into situations —it's inherently violent,"he said.
During his senior year, he was on the receiving end.
Elliotthad just purchased a poundof marijuana and mushrooms, which he says he could have soldon the street for$2,500 at the time, and had it stolen during a snatch-and-grab at a party.
"It hit me hard. I was failing and not doing well in life, but Iwas happy with what I was doing. Nothing bad had happened to me yet," he recalled.
At the time, he was high every day, a situation he now believes zapped him of the purpose that drives him today.
After he was robbed, a friend told him he'dseen a safeat Newark's University Courtyard Apartmentswhile buying marijuana and suggestedthey should rob the place.
A week later, Elliott,decided to joina trio ofaccomplices. Elliott had the gun, and his friends bought a bat. The third accomplice was outside acting as the getaway driver.
Once inside, the gun was drawn,thebat smashed a face and lives changed forever, especially Elliott's.
After his arrest
A few days later, he would be sitting alone in Wilmington'sHoward R. Young Correctional Institution, unable to post$112,000 secured bail.
Elliott was charged with a grab bagof offenses: first-degree robbery, first-degree assault, second-degree conspiracy, six counts of aggravated menacing, possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony andwearing a disguise during the commission of a felony.
His parents hired prominent Wilmington criminal defense attorneyJoe Hurley to defend him. Hurley has been part of many high-profile cases, defending Brian Peterson, the teen father of a newborn that died after being abandoned in a Newark Dumpster and, briefly, millionaire murderer Thomas Capano who killed his lover Anne Marie Fahey.
"Leading up to that moment, I was living in a different reality," Elliottsaid. "I didn't think I would ever get in trouble because I was a bad kid and there weren't ever really any consequences for it.
"I thought I'd be bailed out and it would be a slap on the wrist.
"I was wrong."
Doing the time
Before Elliott mixed with the prison's population at Howard, hespentseveral days in totalisolation in what he calls "the butt naked room."
After learning he wouldn't be bailed out and while still withdrawing from his drug use, Elliotttold officials he wanted to commit suicide, leading to his confinement.
"Looking back, I don't know if I really did want to kill myself. I think I was just scared to go into general population," recalled Elliott, wearing a tailored pinksuit, a far cry from the thin prison-issuedgown he wore after his suicide threat. "I'm sure I was thinking about it, but I don't think Iwould ever have the balls to do that."
Released into the general population, hefound himselfnot onlystripped of his freedom, but also under attack over his identity.
As a biracial man —his mother is white and his father is black —he was entering an environment where prisoners largely segregate themselves based on race.
Elliott tended to surround himself with white friends while inhigh school.But when he approached white prisoners, he soon learned that he was expected to be part of the black population.
"The white people didn't view me as white and I was shocked, so I gravitated to African-Americans," Elliott says. "They were the majority, so I was always OK."
Elliott was5-3 and weighed 105pounds at the time of his arrest, accordingto court documents, but hewas never assaulted or threatened in prison.
Over the years, he found peace working at the prison's chapel as an assistant —the rare job where prisoners can work unsupervised.
He realized he enjoyed giving back to others, creating and facilitating programs for prisoners andeven mentoring some with GED tutoring.
"Prison does not rehabilitate people, so he took the steps himself," John Elliott says of his son.
At the same time, Elliottenrolled in correspondence coursesviaOhio University, which offers correctional education online.
Soon, the Elliott who now has excelled at school began to break out of theshell of disappointment and shame he had built around himself.
"The chapel became an oasis, a sanctuary for me where I could do my school work and not feel like a felon while I was doing it," he said. "And then I began to succeed and that success gave me the confidence for the rest of my life. That's why I work so hard at school today."
The turnaround
After serving five-and-a-half years of his seven-year sentence, Elliott was transferred to Plummer Community Corrections Center in Wilmington in May 2016for workrelease followed by six months of house arrest.
Elliott returned to his family home.
He was only allowed toleavefortwo hours a day. During that time, he would either work atPanera Bread in Fairfaxon Concord Pike or attendclass in Wilmington at DelTech, a schoolthat is open to students with serious past criminal convictions.
With a tracking braceletstrapped to his ankle, Elliott was determined to repair the damage he did to himself and his family.
It didn't take long for Elliott to harness what he always had —a bright mind paired with an unstoppable drive —even if he didn't tend toit as a young man.
"Whereas I used to get positive feelings from getting high, making a quick $1,000 from selling drugs or going to a party, I was getting that feeling from helping other people and doing school work," he said.
Elliott will graduate this summerwith a pair of associatedegrees in human servicesand drug and alcohol counseling from Del Tech. He holds aGPA of around 3.7 (out of 4) and expects it to rise by graduation.
He plans on earning his third associatedegreein criminal justice this year at Del Tech's Stanton campus while serving asPhi Theta Kappa president.
As Elliott's longtimechildhood friend James Karcha puts it,"The level-headedness and decision-making that you see now is vastly improved from where it was. I think he limited himself in the past and now he almost needs a bigger plate for all these responsibilities."
Elliott's return to Del Tech coincidedwith a 2017 change at Phi Theta Kappa, which alteredits rules to allowstudents with criminal records to become members.
It didn't take him long to become one of the group's shining examples of how the inclusion of former prisonerscould boost the honor society with new members armedwith different perspectives and life experiences.
Pattie Van Atter, Del Tech's Testing Center coordinator and adviser and regional coordinator for Phi Theta Kappa, says Elliott has single-handedlyextinguishedany qualms about the rule change.
"We've never been in a situation like this wheresomeone takes off and does what he did," she said. "I don't want to give James a big head, but every day you look for that one reason why you love coming to work and over the past weeks and months, it's been James."
Last month, Elliott was named to the All-USA Academic Team, one of only 20 students across the country to earn what is the most prestigious academic honor at associate degree-granting institutions.
That earned him $5,000 and it didn't stop there.
Hewasalsonamed a New Century Transfer Pathway Scholar by Phi Theta Kappa andreceived an additional $2,250 scholarship — the first recipientwith a felony record. More than 2,000 students were nominated for the scholarship and Elliott was one of 50 nationwide to win.
Mike McCloskey, a Del Tech academic counselor and adviser and regional coordinator for Phi Theta Kappa, still shakes his head.
"When I think about the fact thatweonly met him 1½ years ago, and all this happened in such a short span of time, itblows me away," he said. "In my 19 years, heis probably in the top five students that I've encountered that changed my life."
Changes are happening just as rapidly in his personal life.
Elliott'slongtime girlfriendLauren Hudsongavebirth to his first child in January last year, adaughter named Vaeda Jade. They live together in Pike Creek.
Elliott, Hudsonand their little onewere able to take a break and vacationin Orlando earlier this month, visitingDisney World during Elliott's tripfor thePhi Theta Kappa annual convention.
When he was announced as the new president of the honor society, which dates back to 1918,Elliottcollapsed into his mother's arms and both wept.
The weight of the moment after years of struggle hit hard.
"To pull yourself together after being so far broken is a testament to him, his faith, our support and the school's support," Robin Elliott said. "It's still sinking in. I'm so excited just thinking about what he'll end up doing because I know it's going to be something big."
Looking forward
Once Elliott begins to tell his story, it's almost impossible to stop him.His Del Tech advisers even jokingly warn people who don't know what's coming to settle in.
The drive to make his life countis so palpable that hardly anyone who comes across him walks away thinking he won'taccomplish hisgoals.
Karcha, who has known Elliott since they were in their early teens, said, "If you asked me where I see James in five years, I wouldn't even want to speculate. Anything I would guess, I think he would achieve far beyond that."
Elliottis determined to use his story to effect change in how felons are treated after serving their sentence.
But he's also aware that if he makes a misstep, especially if it's one that lands him back in prison, it would hurt not only himself, his family, friends and supporters, but others getting out of prison looking to reclaim their lives.
"When you're released as a felon, you already feel like you have to be perfect. And the more I tell my story and it gets known, it almost heightens that feeling," Elliott said. "I'm breaking down stigmas for other people and if Imess up, the people coming in behind me will be looked at again twice."
Even though he said hestill brimswith remorse, hehas never reached out to the victims of the home invasion.
"I still see their faces —how scared they were. It haunts me," he said. "But I don't want to invade their privacy and their lives. I already did that once. But the way that I live my life now shows that what I did to them means somethingto me. I can never take back the harm that was done, but I can never harm someone again. Being a parent now, I can't imagine someone hurting my daughter."
He's an intern with the state Department of Labor's APEX Program, which opensopportunities to peoplewith criminal histories by guiding them through the pardon or expungement process.
Two days a week, he's at Wilmington Library, leading meetings filled with people with felony convictionslooking to wipe their criminal records clean and re-integrate into society.
"It's really an issue of opportunity," he said."My story is a perfect example of what happens when you open those doors."
Even before his election as Phi Theta Kappa president, Elliott had set his sights on law school with hopes of attending Widener University Delaware Law School. He'seyeing a future in politics, eager to gain power to push against mass incarceration from within the system.
Hisrecent testimony at Legislative Hall about expungementswas one of the greatest momentshe's had since his release,alongside the birth of his daughter and learning he made the Top 20.
Elliott may have missed Scholar Drive the night of the robbery, but he didn't miss a sign on his returnto Delaware from the Florida convention.
His plane was overbooked andElliott was transferred to an earlier flight. Ithappened to includeWidener University PresidentJulie E. Wollman. Last week, she spoke at the State Correction Institution in Chester, Pennsylvania, about the power of education.
When Wollman's chief of staff,Katie Herschede, noticed the Phi Theta Kappa medals around Elliott'sneck, Elliott was introduced toWollman.
He told herabout his plansto apply to Widener next year and theytook a picture together. Now he has plans to visit the campus, take a tour and grab lunch.
Elliott can only shake his head at thattwist of fate.
"I'm literallyspeechless. What do you say about that?" Elliott said. "It's all just kind of crazy. I guess some things are just meant to be."
Xerxes Wilson contributedto this report. Contact Ryan Cormier of The News Journal at rcormier@delawareonline.com or (302) 324-2863. Follow him on Facebook (@ryancormier), Twitter (@ryancormier) and Instagram (@ryancormier).
