Mike Miles hadn't had a stable job in years. He bounced around from temp agency to temp agency, never sure when his last day would be. Sometimes, he lost a position with less than a day's notice. This wasn't due to a poor work ethic — from arriving early to staying late, Miles says he did everything he could to build a good rapport with employers around Lancaster, Pennsylvania. But because Miles had a criminal record, he was always cut loose when it came time to let staff go.

"It was like walking on eggshells. You just never knew when you'd be gone," he recounted.

After his release from prison in 2007, Miles struggled to find stability — both mentally and financially. During this time he lived in his mother's house, and she helped him raise his daughter. When his mom passed away two years later, Miles says he became more determined than ever to create a healthy environment for his family.

"I'm all she has, and she's all I have," he said. "I had to build a whole new relationship with my daughter, while building a whole new life for myself."

It wasn't until October 2015, nearly a decade after he got out of prison, that a cousin told Miles about Lancaster Food Company, a local business that hires people who have difficulty finding jobs. This includes people with language barriers and disabilities — but the company focuses on hiring formerly incarcerated people.

Hoping this would clear up what felt like a thick cloud of uncertainty over his future, Miles submitted an application. He got an interview. And, soon after that, he began a new job, encompassing everything from food production to maintenance, not to mention a livable wage of $15 an hour. He says it's the best job he's ever had.

Miles' scenario is rare in Lancaster, where the poverty rate holds steady at 30 percent — about double the national average. This figure riled Charlie Crystle, Lancaster's co-founder and CEO. Crystle was raised in Lancaster but left in 1986 to purse a college degree and, later, a career in technology. He co-founded four tech companies, one of which sold for millions of dollars back in 2000.

Crystle is skeptical that many of Lancaster's low-income residents can get started the way he did. "The big push is about technology, but it ignores a whole swath of the population that will never go that route," he said.