Cedric Cameron described himself a big teddy bear as he sat on an old porch in Durham, swinging his legs back and forth off the side.

The 6-foot-4-inch, 360-pound man smiled as he talked about the work he and three others were doing inside a house on Salem Street in the east part of the city.

"There's no such thing as, ‘You can't,'" he said with a smile on his face. "You got to want to do it."

Cameron had white spots all over his hands and boots. It showed that he was learning a new trade inside this house: how to hang sheetrock. When he and the three others arrived at the house, terminates had pretty much gutted the place.

"Pretty soon I should have my own business, hopefully," Cameron said as he talked about the trade he is learning. "That's my dream."

For Cameron and the three others inside, it's a second chance. They all have one thing in common: they've spent time in jail.

"The world [doesn't] owe me [anything]. I did what I did. I sold drugs. I chose to sell drugs. That's what I [did]," he said. "It's the blessings that I got when I got out of prison and God gave me blessings."

They're all taking part in the New Beginnings Outreach Community Corporation based in Durham. It's founded started the non-profit in December 1999 to help former inmates transition back into society.

"Everybody deserves a second chance; we've all made mistakes in life," said Phillip Jackson, who is the director of the non-profit. "It's challenging enough in the present economy if you don't have a criminal record."

Jackson said the men and women who take part in the program earn from $250 to $400 in the six month training program.

"That's $10,000 to $12,000 towards restorative justice. I think it's a worth-while investment," he said.

He said the group recently started working with the city of Durham's Economic and Workforce Development Office and the Workforce Investment Act now helps keep the training going. Jackson said it's a pivotal part of helping these workers adjust after years in jail

"Without that in many cases these men and women are forced to go back into the lifestyles they once frequented and we definitely can't afford that," Jackson said. "We believe the construction trade will always give them a trade to make a living."

Nathaniel Harris spent nearly seven years behind bars for possession of ammunition. When he got out in June of this year, hope was hard to find.

"I was feeling discouraged about finding a job," Harris said. "I applied at fast food ... anywhere I could basically submit an application."

The four said prison changed their lives and now the program is helping them start it all over again.

"I went in and I evaluated myself and my life and I came out with a plan of what I wanted to do," said James Jones. "Prison gave me back what I missed more than anything in my life ... and that was work ethic."

Tyshaun Perryman, who went to North Carolina Central University and majored in mass communications, heard about the program through his church.

"All you do while you're in prison is looking forward to that day when you get out," he said. "After coming out of prison and not being in the workforce for two years - this program gives me the opportunity to work, save money, but most of all to start a stable life."

"History is full of people that have changed."