Teen sex offender, now 27, looking for help.

He’s a handy, articulate and well-dressed 27-year-old man. Friends say he’s a hard worker with his head on straight — the problem is Otto Jabar Orr is also listed as a sex offender.

The crux of the problem is Orr wants to work within the system, and while the restrictions placed upon him chafe, he’s willing to work. But with unemployment rates at more than 10 percent, jobs are scarce. For someone branded as a sex offender, they’re almost nonexistent.

No job equals no residence, and for Orr no residence equals going back to prison.

“I have to find a place by the end of this month,” Orr said. “But, right now it’s hard for me to find a place without a job.”

It’s not a matter of wishing to comply. It’s a matter of being able to comply with the stringent legal requirements in harsh economic circumstances.

“I did that for a long time. I had a job but then got laid off,” Orr said. “And now no one is hiring, especially me with a criminal record and all.”

There’s no halfway house, no homeless shelter, even the friends who would gladly take him in are bound by the legal restrictions of the registry.

He could remain at his current “temporary residence,” but it is within 1,000 feet of a church, a violation of his probation, and Roger Covington — president of a local prison ministry — agreed to let Orr live in his home, but he’s a convicted felon, and that kind of association is also a violation of his probation.

“It makes me upset. I’m trying, but the only thing that keeps me focused is God,” Orr said. “Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I feel like he won’t let me down, and I keep pushing myself every day.”

The 27-year-old said he’s been clean and arrest-free since 2005. Compliance with a job and a residence was difficult, but doable. The problem is after two years of working for a bakery, he was recently laid off.

Since then he’s been applying for jobs and hitting the pavement. But bad decisions made early in life don’t go away.

Changing times

No one is saying Orr is an angel. He’s been in and out of the courtroom — convicted of several other crimes such as drug possession, obstruction and theft by taking.

But his current entanglement with the legal system began at 18 when he pleaded guilty to a statutory rape charge filed against him when he was 17. Although the sex was consensual, the girl was underage.

When the prosecutor offered eight years of probation — he took it. At that time he didn’t have to register as a sex offender. There was some initial counseling but no registration.

A year later Orr was back in court on a drug possession charge.

This time he went to prison, and upon release in 2005 his parole officer told him the law now required him to register as a sex offender.

“I talked to them but couldn’t push the issue, I just didn’t have any money — only the $35 they gave me when I got out,” he said.

Since 2006, Orr’s particular case would be considered a misdemeanor — with no stipulation of registering in the sex offender database. But that change came too late for Orr. He, and many like him, committed what is now a misdemeanor but face a lifetime stigma of being a convicted felon and even worse — a sex offender.

“The system isn’t designed to help. I did wrong, I know I did,” Orr said. “But I’m still serving time every day. … By not knowing what I signed up for, I messed up my life.”

The law concerning statutory rape was amended July 1, 2006. It made consensual sex between teens (at least 14 years old) and a person no older than 18 a misdemeanor punishable by no more than a year in prison and no sex offender registration.

But the legislature did not make the law retroactive.

The sex offender registry is kept with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, and according to Georgia law a person classified as a sexual offender must comply with the requirements of registration for life.

Those laws limit where offenders can live and work.

Those who have completed their incarceration or probation for at least 10 years can petition the Superior Court to be released from the registration requirements, according to Georgia Code 42-1-12 (g).

If the court decides the offender does not pose a substantial risk of future offenses, the court can release the person from registry. But for those in Orr’s situation, 10 years as a registered sex offender may mean a life term.

‘Ghetto pastor’

He’s not without help or friends, there are several who’ve stepped forward asking if they could help Orr. But with limited resources, time is running out.

Louise McCluskey, pastor of the Glorious New Jerusalem Church on West 12th Street, said she first met Orr through his grandmother and the self-described “ghetto pastor” said she saw injustice in his plight.

Here was a hard-working man whose faith had made a change in his life, she said, but his circumstances were dire.

That’s never mattered to McCluskey, who has run many prison ministries and is known for walking in among the convicts and making friends.

“You’ve got to love people. Jesus hung out with the thugs. Did you know that?” she said. “This church welcomes offenders regardless of what the law says. The church is a haven to set people free and help them to get to know Jesus.”

She found a residence for Orr to stay until the probation office saw a church in the area, invalidating the residence as a permanent place. His probation officer said Orr could stay there temporarily but gave an end of November deadline for him to move out.

Both McCluskey and Orr say the probation office has worked with him repeatedly, letting him stay out a little later to attend church and striving to help him stay out of prison. But the legislators made the law, and probation officers are sworn to uphold it.

“He has a good probation officer,” McCluskey said. “It’s the law that needs to change.”

But at this point what he needs is a job. He’s done house maintenance, some construction work and refurbished a home for the church on Harvey Street.

“He has worked diligently to restore that house, and it would be a good place to house others like him. But, guess what, there is a church at the corner,” McCluskey said.

He’s not picky at this point. Orr said he’d take any type of job. It’s not money or donations he needs. It’s a job and the ability to live under his current circumstances and hopefully provide for his three children.

For anyone with work available, McCluskey said they can reach her at 706-409-2908.

Although McCluskey said she has faith that God will make changes, she says people must still work for that change.

She speaks with a voice of experience and the surety of someone who has seen miracles happen.

She doesn’t expect people to make a change for the better 100 percent of the time. “When they want to change they’ll change,” she said.

“It isn’t about in here,” she said, gesturing toward the church. “It’s about out there,” she said, pointing toward the streets.