by Patrice Gaines
NNPA Contributing Writer

“The Cost of Incarceration” is an eight-part occasional series written by Patrice Gaines, former Washington Post reporter, author and co-founder of The Brown Angel Center, a program in Charlotte, N.C. that helps formerly incarcerated women become financially independent. Gaines received a 2009 Soros Justice Media Fellowship from the Open Society Institute to research and write articles on the impact of mass incarceration on the African-American community.

WASHINGTON  – This is the 19th Christmas Miquelle West has celebrated without her mother. “I think about getting married and having children and then I think: My mother is not here,” said West, who was 9 when her mother went to prison.

Now 27, West said, “I think the system is set up to be mean to families.”

Cassandra Adams, a formerly incarcerated mother, and her son Derrell, 16. (Photo courtesy of NNPA News Service)

Indeed, many institutional reforms have been proposed to enhance the lives of children with parents in jail: allow the parent to serve his or her sentence closer to home, offer more community-based sentencing alternatives to prison, make drug sentencing more equitable and make phone calls by inmates less expensive.

“We get so caught up on what the parent has done wrong that we become wrong-doers (to the children) without meaning to,” said Susan D. Phillips Ph.D., assistant professor at Jane Addams College of Social Work at the University of Illinois in Chicago.

There are approximately 2.3 million children with incarcerated parents. When children are separated from their parents for reasons such as military services, divorce, death, or illness, they receive compassion and aid to ease their distress. Many experts argue that, morally, children with incarcerated parents deserve the support.

After interviewing children and families in 14 states, Dee Ann Newell and Nell Bernstein, drew up the “Bill of Rights for Children of the Incarcerated,” a list of needs expressed by the interviewees. They included: “I have the right to speak with, see, and touch my parent” and “I have the right not to be judged, blamed, or labeled because of my parent’s incarceration.”

The other desired rights are:

I have the right to be kept safe and informed at the time of my parent’s arrest.

I have the right to be heard when decisions are made about me.

I have the right to be considered when decisions are made about my parent.

I have the right to be well-cared for in my parent’s absence.

I have the right to support as I face my parent’s incarceration.

I have the right to a lifelong relationship with my parent.

These rights, however, sometimes conflict with current institutional practices.

 West’s mother was convicted of conspiracy to sell cocaine and drug-related murder charges. Afterwards she was raised by her grandmother and an aunt in Detroit.

Her mother was transported to a prison in Danbury, Conn. The two spoke weekly and wrote letters. Then at age 21, West moved to New York so she could catch the train to visit her mom as often as possible.

Today, West, a fashion stylist and a manager at a high-end retail store, attributes her success partially to her mom, who was determined to parent even from a distance.

While research suggests that, collectively, children of incarcerated parents are considered an at-risk population, not all of them are equally at risk because they grow up under varying conditions. Incarceration may just be a red flag that means these are children who need to be checked, to see if they are living in safe, stable environments.

“When you are talking about parents in prison you are talking about parents more likely to have drug problems, more likely to be unemployed and to have been abused themselves,” said Phillips. “Those factors alone are enough to screen their children to see if they need help.”

Derrell Adams was four when his mother went to prison. He was 13 when she was released. She served time for driving the getaway car in a robbery in which a grocer was killed. “I had no memory of her. I met her in prison,” said Derrell, 16, who grew up in Hollywood, Fla. with his father.

When people asked about his mother, “I would ignore the question,” said Derrell. “It was sad. It was hard.”

Like West, Derrell’s main contact with his mother has been through phone calls and letters. Today, they are struggling to build a relationship; they still live hundreds of miles apart.

I love her though. I always will.”

The amount of stress a child experiences is linked to many factors including community support, professional services and home life.

When a Washington, D.C. area prison for men closed and inmates were shipped away, Carol Fennelly’s organization, Hope House, created ways to keep children in touch with their fathers.

“I go into prisons and record the fathers reading a book and take the book and recording back to the children. We do about 2,000 books a year,” said Fennelly.

In addition to the reading program, she holds video-conferences in her office so children and their fathers can talk and see each other. Hope House also runs week-long summer camps where children spend their evenings at the campgrounds and their days visiting their fathers in prison.

An outgrowth of Hope House’s programs is a support network of families – generally, moms. Working with other community associations, these moms helped rescue children, supported each other and provided a safe haven for themselves and their children.

“For the children, being around other children with incarcerated parents helps,” said Fennelly. “What we find is kids get empowered around each other.”

Miquelle West didn’t grow up with such a support group, but she had a loving family. Her mom was given two life sentences plus 50 years based on the testimony of informants.

“I don’t want to say I’ve lost hope,” said West. “But my mom doesn’t have an out date. We are always rushing to talk and she has to call me back and I don’t always remember what I was saying. It’s no way to have a conversation with your mother.”