Stacey Bouchet,
"Children with Incarcerated Parents: Many Stones Still Unturned"
(page 5 of 5)
Concluding Reflections from my Own Experience
Through the guidance and support of the Annie E. Casey Foundation and
the network of knowledgeable, dedicated, and compassionate leaders in
the field working on behalf of children with incarcerated parents, I
have been afforded an incredible opportunity to continue to champion
this issue as a former child of an incarcerated parent. To do this
work as someone who was directly affected by the issue feels
self-serving to me in many ways. I have benefited from sharing my
story, recalling events and feelings that should have surfaced and been
addressed when I was a child, but likely would never have, had I not
been given the opportunity to do this work.
As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, it wasn't until I
began working on this issue that I shared my personal experiences with
others. No one, not even at the Foundation, knew my father had been
incarcerated. This was not a secret I kept by design; it honestly never
occurred to me that it could—or should—have any bearing on the work I
was doing. It wasn't until I read Nell Bernstein's book, All Alone
in the World: Children of Incarcerated Parents and heard Liz Gaines
speak about the effects of incarceration on children at a September 2006
consultative session on reentry hosted by the Annie E. Casey Foundation
that I made the connection between my own life experiences and the
Foundation project with which I was assisting. However, even after that
realization, I must admit I struggled to understand my own value in
speaking or advocating on behalf of this population. I chalked it up to
the need for a "bad girl gone good" success story. For all intents and
purposes, I do look successful—at least on paper, but I remained very
disconnected from any experiences and feelings related to my father's
absence, incarceration and death, as well as other traumatic events like
my mother's arrest and the incarceration of several close family
members.
It wasn't until my recent opportunity to view the film Shadows:
Children, Families and the Legacy of Incarceration that I truly
began to understand the effects of parental incarceration on my life. I
saw a piece of myself in every child featured in the movie. It was a
bittersweet moment, for it was the first time I felt the intense pain of
loss and how it has navigated my life, to a large extent, without my
conscious awareness. It was the first time I was able to recognize and
get angry about the precious time my father and I both lost due to his
incarceration and grapple with the questions of why and to what end?
And, it was the first time I did not feel completely and utterly alone.
I wept that entire night and into the next day, for myself, and for all
the children and families who live with the legacy of incarceration.
Even though my father is deceased and I am 38, that night I decided I
want to know him. When he wasn't incarcerated, I didn't see him much
and I have always felt tentative about asking other family members
questions about him. During recent inquiries, I've learned that my
father was flawed in significant ways and many loved him. As one family
member recently told me, "He was a great person who never knew it." At
that moment I understood my father, myself, and the legacy we share.
People often ask me what I needed or what would have been most
helpful to me while growing up with a parent who was incarcerated. I do
not know for certain. I can report on what research has shown; I know
of the good work being done in the field. Now I know that for me, I
needed to understand my father to make sense of myself.
I have spent my life vacillating between feeling like there is nowhere
I belong and trying to fit perfectly everywhere. Perfection, of
course, can never truly be achieved and, thus, as a child and an adult,
I have found I often land in the most familiar territory, feeling like I
am inherently "bad"—worthless, invisible, alone—running from
something I could never comprehend, or anxiously trying to fix something
that can never be mended. "Stacey, you are just like your father,"
droning in the background all the while.
Yes, my father—good, bad, troubled, abused, addicted—all that he was,
is a part of me too. I wish he had had the opportunities and support he
needed to improve that list.
What did I need? Hope perhaps. Hope that the sting of loss
would subside; hope that life can be different. I think there are many
ways to impart hope to children—art, faith, education, mentorship,
stability, social support, to name just a few—but most of all through
loving parents, even if they are incarcerated.
Hope is a powerful thing. It means that we don't give up on the
great potential we have for growth and change in ourselves or others.
It, too, can be a legacy. There is no prescribed method or direct path
for imparting or acquiring hope of which I am aware, but I know for
certain, and from experience, that no stone should be left unturned.
Endnotes
1. Jessica Nickel, Crystal Garland, and Leah Kane,
Children of Incarcerated Parents: An Action Plan for Federal
Policymakers (New York: Council of State Governments Justice Center,
2009). [Return to text]
2. See: Harold Dean Trulear, Robert Franklin, and
Stephanie Boddie, "Healing Communities: Faith, Redemption and the
Ministry of Reintegration," published by The Annie E. Casey Foundation,
2006; and Linda Mills, "Balancing Justice With Mercy: A Toolkit for
Creating Healing Communities," published by The Annie E. Casey
Foundation, 2008. [Return to text]
3. Lauren E. Glaze, and Laura M. Maruschak,
"Parents in Prison and Their Minor Children," published by The Bureau
of Justice Statistics, 2008. [Return to text]
4. Ibid. [Return to text]
5. See
The National
Resource Center on Children and Families of the Incarcerated at Family &
Corrections Network for a current listing of published studies.
[Return to text]
6. Oliver Edwards and Ray Shannon, "An Attachment
and School Satisfaction Framework for Helping Children Raised by
Grandparents," School Psychology Quarterly 23 (2008): 125-138;
Keva M. Miller, "The Impact of Parental Incarceration on Children: An
Emerging Need for Effective Interventions," Child and Adolescent
Social Work Journal 23 (2006): 472-486; Susan D. Phillips, Barbara
J. Burns, H. Ryan Wagner, Teresa L. Kramer, and James M. Robbins,
"Parental Incarceration Among Adolescents Receiving Mental Health
Services," Journal of Child and Family Studies 11 (2002): 385-399;
Julie Poehlmann, "Children's Family Environments and Intellectual
Outcomes During Maternal Incarceration," Journal of Marriage and
Family 67 (2005): 1275-1285. [Return to text]
7. Ann Adalist Estrin,
Presentation at
the Family & Corrections Network Child Welfare League of America 2008
Conference, FCN Super Session Presentation, February 27, 2008.
[Return to text]
8. Sandra Barnhill, "Forever Family Pre-Conference
Workshop: Practical Strategies to Connecting Incarcerated Parents and
their Children," 10th Annual Centerforce Inside/Out Summit, San
Francisco, CA, October 26, 2009. [Return to text]
9. Glaze and Maruschak. [Return to text]
10. Creasie Finney Hairston, "The Forgotten
Parent: Understanding the Forces that Influence Incarcerated Fathers'
Relationships with their Children," Child Welfare 77:5 (1998):
617-638. [Return to text]
11. Glaze and Maruschak. [Return to text]
12. Pamela Ovwigho, Correne Saunders, and
Catherine Born, "The Intersection of Incarceration and Child Support: A
Snapshot of Maryland's Caseload," published by the University of
Maryland School of Social Work Family Welfare and Research Training
Group, July 2005. [Return to text]
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