Mother's Day: Love and Reconciliation.

Letter to a Formerly Incarcerated Mother

by Donnie Nicole Belcher

Dear Ma,

I can remember the anger and bitterness that I felt towards you as a little girl. I can also remember longing to share my A+ homework with you. The longing to talk to you about the issues that I, then an elementary school student, had. And my longing to share with you which boy had the worst case of "cooties." More than the bitterness, I can remember the unbreakable bond, and the insurmountable love that I felt, that overpowered that bitterness and anger that I kept inside.

Granny used to take me up the highway to see you pretty much every weekend, and I always remember the small things that would amaze me. The way you and I would dress alike sometimes, wearing the same jumpsuit, or the way that you never seemed to be angry, or upset by your experience. I always cherished, and continue to cherish the photographs that we had taken. I also remember hating to leave the visiting room, and hating to leave you in that place, that required me to walk through metal detectors and through electric gates.

You told me recently that on my first visit to the prison, I cried. You told me then that I had to stop crying or I wouldn't be able to visit anymore. As you said that I dried my face as fast as I could. Most of all, I remember your letters, your phone calls, and you always telling me to be strong, because you only had a little while to go before you'd be home with me.

Momma, now that I am a young woman, 18 years old, and you've been out of prison a number of years now, I realize that you and I are alike in more ways than one. I not only share your beautiful brown skin your broad flat nose, and the crinkle in the middle of your forehead that shows when you're angry, frustrated or just plain tired. I not only share your "chicken legs, or your black baby toenail, but I share many of your inner qualities.

Our roads in life have been different. Your road had a lot of dead ends, a lot of close calls, a few accidents, and a lot of sharp curves, steep hills and streets with no lights to guide you. My road has been pretty straight and narrow, with a few unexpected weather conditions causing the road to be wet and slippery, a few potholes, and lots of speed bumps. Despite the fact that our roads have been different, I realize that our driving style, and our vehicles (that is, our approach to life) and our personality traits are very similar. You also have much more mileage than I do, thus I have learned from your life experience.

The most important lesson that I have learned from your life is power of choice. I understand, from your experience, that every decision that I make has a direct effect on the rest of my life. I understand that having a drug addiction, or being incarcerated, were not your life long goals. However, the small decisions that you made prior to those experiences were what led to those life experiences.

Another important lesson that I learned from you is resilience: the ability to "bounce" back from any situation. Whenever you were down, you did not stay down and dwell in that situation. You assessed what went wrong, picked yourself up and kept moving. I, too maintain that same quality of resilience. No matter what happens (I may fail a test here or there, miss a deadline here or there, or make an even worse decision) I understand that I have the ability to get back up, and keep moving.

Momma, at the time, I didn't understand the challenges you were facing when you were released from prison. I did not understand that you had to mark the fact that you had been in prison on every job application, and that it made it harder for you to get hired. I did not understand how you had to adjust to the changing world, as you had been in an institution that doesn't do a good job of keeping up with the fast pace of the outside world. Most of all, I did not understand the emotional roller coaster you must have been experiencing within yourself when you had to face all of those judgmental people who silently wished and waited for you to slip back into your old lifestyle. Those people who refused to accept that you were changing your life for the better, and those people who dangled the past in your face.

So, the second and third qualities that I learned from your life experience were persistence and attitude. No matter how many times you were told "no," you continued to ask, and ask. While watching you in this process, I learned that no matter how many "no" answers you receive, there is bound to be someone who will say "yes." No matter how many doors are slammed in my face, I understand that one door will be wide open eventually, and this I learned from you. From you, I also learned that attitude does not have to be a bad thing. I learned that attitude can be channeled and used as a motivation to elevate myself.

The life lessons that I learned from you could never have been learned in a classroom, or from a textbook. You have still been my greatest and most effective teacher. If it were not for your addiction, I would not have known the power of chemical substances and perhaps, like most teens, would have explored curiosity. Because I know the power of chemical substances, I pledged myself a long, long time ago, that I would never even try a small amount of any substance.

Unlike most teenagers, I had the first hand experience of prison; because of your stories, and your experience, I learned that prison was the last place that I wanted to be. I learned that prison was not a place for people with big dreams and big goals. I pledged to myself a long time ago that I would watch the company that I keep and watch my actions so that I would not end up in prison.

When strangers, as well as people who we know, tell us that we are alike I am extremely proud because my mother and I have the power to withstand any and all obstacles that are placed in our way. As some people would say, it is in our blood.

Now I am a college student, on the straight and narrow, and I can see the taillights of my mother's vehicle, giving me guidance. I can see my mother's vehicle in front of me, reminding me to slow down, switch lanes, and turn my headlights on bright. As a young woman, I am learning the power of planning, the power of happiness, and the power of my mother's life lessons. I appreciate everything that my mother has taught me, and I accept and embrace everything that has taken place both negative and positive, because all things that have happened are apart of the divine plan for my life. Everything that has happened has made me the person that I am today: a person that I love, and a person that has been heavily influenced by the life of a formerly incarcerated mother.

Originally published at

Women and Prison: A Site for Resistance

a project of Beyondmedia Education.

Beyondmedia Education
4001 N. Ravenswood #204 C
Chicago, IL 60613
USA
tel: 773-857-7300
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Mother's Day: Silent Tears.

Will She Ever Know My Name?

by Kebby Warner

Tiny little hands gripping my own,

Promises made only to be broken.

Who do I blame? Myself, of course.

Will she ever know my name?

Wanting to change my past,

Uncertain about my future.

Mistake made, lessons learned…life.

Will she ever know my name?

Phone calls once a month.

The tiny little voice so many miles away.

Longing to hold her in my arms.

Will she ever know my name?

Silent tears flow down my face.

No one can see them they’re hiding,

Hiding them selves inside my soul.

She still doesn’t know my name,

Will she ever know?

--------------------------

 

Originally published at:

Women and Prison: A Site for Resistance, 
a project of Beyondmedia Education.

Beyondmedia Education
4001 N. Ravenswood #204 C
Chicago, IL 60613
USA
tel: 773-857-7300
fax: 773-857-7301
info@womenandprison.org
www.beyondmedia.org

Mother's Day: Pregnant Behind Bars

Pregnant, in Prison and Denied Care

The Nation

December 10, 2009

Rachel Roth

Over the past year, incarcerated women and their allies have achieved a remarkable string of victories against inhumane treatment. First, they persuaded the Bureau of Prisons to issue a new policy in October 2008 limiting the use of restraints on women who are in labor, giving birth or recovering after childbirth; the Marshals Service, which transports people in federal custody, followed suit. Next, they won legislation in the spring and summer of 2009 restricting the use of restraints on pregnant women in New Mexico, Texas and New York. Finally, they successfully petitioned the US Court of Appeals Eighth Circuit for a rehearing of the full court in a case from Arkansas, which resulted in a ruling in October [1] that shackling women in labor is unconstitutional.

These developments send a strong signal to the rest of the country to stop subjecting women to this dangerous and degrading practice. But what happens to pregnant women in prison before they wind up in chains at a hospital? 

When women are brought to a hospital in shackles, the pain and humiliation they endure likely caps months of difficulty from being pregnant behind bars, months without adequate prenatal care or nutrition, or even basics like a bed to sleep on or clothes to accommodate their changing shape.

The lack of common sense and compassion with which imprisoned pregnant women are treated is chilling. Three stories illustrate the dangers women face when they cannot get anyone to take their medical needs seriously.

First, some women are not taken to the hospital until after they have already given birth, despite having informed staff members that they are in labor. Women wind up giving birth in their cells with the assistance of a nurse, corrections officer or cellmates. Others give birth in their cells with nobody to help. Both situations endanger the woman and her baby. Nineteen-year-old Terra K. screamed [2], pounded on the door and asked for the nurse in the Dubuque County Jail in Iowa, only to give birth alone in her cell. Afterward she asked, "How does somebody have a baby in jail without anybody noticing?"

Next, some women never see their pregnancy result in a live birth. In the Collier County Jail in Florida, Joan S. repeatedly sought medical attention because she was near her due date and leaking amniotic fluid; this went on for almost two weeks. By the time she got an ultrasound, the doctor informed her that all of her amniotic fluid was gone and her fetus's skull had collapsed. Jail officials then delayed taking her to the hospital, putting her at risk for septic shock the longer the dead fetus remained inside her. As if this were not bad enough, the jail delayed giving her a shot she needed because she has RH-negative blood, which could cause complications if she becomes pregnant in the future. She is only 22.

Finally, corrections personnel neglect women who have had miscarriages. Michelle M. was punched repeatedly in the stomach [3] by two other prisoners in the Maricopa County jail in Arizona. Guards denied her access to the infirmary. Three days later, she was bleeding so heavily that she was finally taken to a hospital, where doctors told her she had miscarried and instructed her to return for a checkup. But the jail wouldn't bring her back for the checkup--that is, not until three weeks later, when she began bleeding so much that the jail finally called an ambulance. At the hospital, she needed a blood transfusion as well as a surgical procedure to remove the remains of the pregnancy from her uterus.

These are not isolated events; they are just a few that recently made the news. Institutions of confinement are not required to report the pregnancy outcomes of women in their custody. Until elected officials mandate such reporting, we will have to rely on the efforts of imprisoned women, journalists, human rights investigators, researchers, lawyers and advocates to document the reality of life for pregnant women inside prison walls. Reflecting on more than thirty years of experience, ACLU National Prison Project director Elizabeth Alexander says, "In virtually every case that I have handled involving healthcare claims of women, I have found women who lost their pregnancies or newborns due to the prison's atrocious neglect."

The denial of appropriate care to pregnant women is part and parcel of the general state of medical neglect in prisons in the United States. Access to timely, appropriate medical care is further undermined by the trend to contract out medical services to private, for-profit companies [4].

When women suffer inadequate pregnancy-related care, seeking redress is extremely difficult, given the many hurdles imposed by the Prison Litigation Reform Act. As one example, a federal court dismissed a woman's lawsuit over her failure to comply with the jail's internal grievance procedure. She persevered, and the court of appeals overturned the lower court. The court of appeals compared the case to something out of Alice in Wonderland, because all the parties agreed that the jail's grievance procedure was never made available to anyone being held in the jail, and, therefore, compliance would be impossible.

This state of affairs is even more disturbing when we consider that most women do not pose a threat to public safety. They are serving time--or stuck in jail because they are too poor to make bail--for nonviolent crimes, and could be supervised in the community instead of being incarcerated.

The purpose of prison is to punish and control, not to tend to people's medical needs, although prisons and jails are constitutionally obligated to do so. Leaving women to give birth all alone in their cells, or to suffer the consequences of a miscarriage or stillbirth without proper medical attention, surely violates the prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment. The United States has no real system of prison oversight to ensure accountability for the treatment of people in custody. As Joan S. said of her decision to bring a lawsuit against the jail and private company that denied her medical care, "I want them to make changes. I don't want this to happen to other mothers." 

---

Source URL: http://www.thenation.com/article/pregnant-prison-and-denied-care

Links:
[1] http://www.aclu.org/prisoners-rights_reproductive-freedom/federal-appeals-court-condemns-shackling-pregnant-prisoners-la
[2] http://www.thonline.com/article.cfm?id=243341
[3] http://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/2008-10-30/news/arpaio-s-jail-staff-cost-ambrett-spencer-her-baby-and-she-s-not-the-only-one/
[4] http://www.democracynow.org/2005/3/4/harsh_medicine_new_york_times_exposes

Mother's Day, Sentencing, and the War on Drugs

Women in Prison: A Fact Sheet

The Issue: Sentencing and the War on Drugs

Amnesty International-USA (2007)

The Department of Justice found that women were over represented among low level drug offenders who were non-violent, had minimal or no prior criminal history, and were not principal figures in criminal organizations or activities, but nevertheless received sentences similar to “high level” drug offenders under the mandatory sentencing policies. From 1986 to 1996 the number of women sentenced to state prison for drug crimes increased ten-fold. Nationally one in three women in prison and one in four women in jail are incarcerated for violating a drug law. (Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics Prisoners in 1997)

·  According to The Boston Globe, "nearly 26% of the nearly 2000 men and women crowding Massachusetts prisons for  drug crimes are first-time offenders…. Worse, nearly three out of four drug traffickers who do get charged in major cases, but agree to forfeit substantial drug money to prosecutors, bargain their way out of the long sentences…. The result: those with no money or information to trade face the hard mandatory sentences."

·     From 1986 to 1996, the number of women sentenced to state prison for drug crimes increased from 2,370 to 23,700.  (Bureau of Justice Statistics, Washington DC Prisoners in 1997)

·  In 1986, 12.0% of women in prison were drug offenders. In 1991, 32.8% of women in prison were incarcerated for  drug offenses.  (Women in Prison, Survey of State Prison Inmates, 1991. US Department of Justice, March 1994, NCJ 145321)

The Issue: Sexual Assault and Misconduct Against Women in Prison

The imbalance of power between inmates and guards involves the use of direct physical force and indirect force based on the prisoners’ total dependency on officers for basic necessities and the guards’ ability to withhold privileges. Some women are coerced into sex for favors such as extra

food or personal hygiene products, or to avoid punishment.   

·  Powerlessness and Humiliation

There are 148,200 women in state and federal prisons. In federal women’s correctional facilities, 70% of guards are male.  Records show correctional officials have subjected female inmates to rape, other sexual assault, sexual extortion, and groping during body searches. Male correctional officials watch women undressing, in the shower or the toilet. Male correctional officials retaliate, often brutally, against female inmates who complain about sexual assault and harassment

·  Retaliation and Fear

In many states guards have access to and are encouraged to review the inmates’ personal history files (this includes any  record of complaints against themselves or other prison authorities). Guards threaten the prisoner’s children and visitation rights as a means of silencing the women. Guards issue rule infraction tickets, which extend the woman’s  stay in prison if she speaks out. Prisoners who complain are frequently placed in administration segregation.

·  Impunity 

Ineffective formal procedures, legislation and reporting capacity within US jails and prisons account for much of the  ongoing sexual abuse of women. In 1997, according to the US Justice Department only 10 prison employees in the  entire federal system were disciplined, and only 7 were prosecuted. If a prison official is found guilty, he is often simply transferred (“walked off the yard”) to another facility instead of being fired. The inmate may also be transferred. 

The Issue: Medical Neglect of Women in US Prisons

Women are denied essential medical resources and treatments, especially during times of pregnancy and/or chronic and degenerative diseases.

·  Failure to refer seriously ill inmates for treatment and delays in treatment

Women inmates suffering from treatable diseases such as asthma, diabetes, sickle cell anemia, cancer, late-term miscarriages, and seizures have little or no access to medical attention, sometimes resulting in permanent injury or death. Instances of failure to deliver life-saving drugs for inmates with HIV/AIDS have also been noted.  

·  Lack of qualified personnel and resources and use of non-medical staff

There is too few staff to meet physical and mental health needs. This often results in long delays in obtaining medical attention; disrupted and poor quality treatment causing physical deterioration of prisoners with chronic and degenerative diseases, like cancer; overmedication of prisoners with psychotropic drugs; and lack of mental health treatment. The use of  non-medical staff to screen requests for treatment is also common. 

·  Charges for medical attention

In violation of international standards, many prisons/jails charge inmates for medical attention, arguing that the charge deters prisoners from seeking medical attention for minor matters or because they want to avoid work. In some supermaximum prisons, where prisoners cannot work at all, the US Justice Dept. expressed concern that charging prisoners impedes their access to health care.

·  Inadequate Reproductive Health Care

In 1994, the National Institute of Corrections stated that provision of gynecological services for women in prison is inadequate.  Only half of the state prison systems surveyed offer female-specific services such as mammograms and Pap smears, and often entail a long wait to be seen.

·  Shackling During Pregnancy

Shackling of all prisoners, including pregnant prisoners, is standard policy in federal prisons and in the US Marshall Service and exists in almost all state prisons. Shackling during labor may cause complications during delivery such as hemorrhage or decreased fetal heart rate. If a caesarian section is needed, a delay of even 5 minutes may result in permanent brain damage to the baby.

  

·  Lack of treatment for substance abuse

The gap between services available and treatment needs continues to grow. The number of prisoners with histories of drug abuse is growing, but the proportion of prisoners receiving treatment declined from 40% in 1991 to 18% in 1997.  

·  Lack of Adequate or Appropriate Mental Health Services

 48-88% of women inmates suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder due to sexual or physical abuse experienced prior to coming to prison.  Very few prison systems provide counseling. Women attempting to access mental health services are routinely given medication without opportunity to undergo psychotherapeutic treatment.  

The Issue: Discrimination Based On Gender, Race and Sexual Orientation

The growth in incarceration has had its greatest impact on minorities, particularly African Americans. Women are most vulnerable to different forms of discrimination, including sexual harrasment or abuse. Women that do not fit the “norm”, such as lesbians, are more succeptable to torture and abuse.

Discrimination Based on Race:

·  Over a five-year period, the incarceration rate of African American women increased by 828%. (NAACP LDF Equal Justice Spring 1998.) An African American woman is eight times more likely than a European American woman is to be imprisoned.  African American women make up nearly half of the nation’s female prison population, with most serving sentences for nonviolent drug or property related offenses. 

·  Latina women experience nearly four times the rates of incarceration as European American women.

·  State and federal laws mandate minimum sentences for all drug offenders.  This eliminates the option for judges to refer first time non-violent offenders to drug treatment, counseling and education programs.  The racial disparity revealed by the crack v. powder cocaine sentences insures that more African American women will land in prison.

Although 2/3 of crack users are white or Hispanic, defendants convicted of crack cocaine possession in 1994 were 84.5% African American.  Crack is the only drug that carries a mandatory prison sentence for first time possession in the federal system. 

Discrimination Based On Sexual Orientation:

·   Human Rights Watch has documented categories of women who are likely targets for sexual abuse. Perceived or actual sexual orientation is one of four categories that make a female prisoner a more likely target for sexual abuse, as well as a target for retaliation when she reports that abuse.

·  If a woman is a lesbian, her criminal defense becomes more challenging.  Jurors in the US were polled as to what factors would make them most biased against a defendant, and perceived sexual orientation was chosen as the most likely personal characteristic to bias a juror against a defendant, three times greater than race. (National Law Journal November 2, 1998.)

·  The case of Robin Lucas depicts how sexual identity may subject a woman to further abuse or torture by a guard. She was placed in a men’s prison where male guards allowed male inmates to rape her.  The male guards taunted her about her same sex relationship, saying to her “maybe we can change your mind”.  

For more information on issues affecting women in prison and other women’s human rights issues, please visit the Women’s Human Rights Program website at www.amnestyusa.org/women or contact us at AIUSA 5 Penn Plaza-16th floor, New York, NY 10001 or at (212) 633-4292.

Mother's Day: My Son's Birthday

My Son's Birthday

by Deanna Lynd

You came into the world fast and furious,

when I held you, you looked up at me with eyes wide and curious.

My heart changed in an instant.

For once my own childhood seemed so distant.

I vowed to do my best, to love and cherish you

and trust your father to do the rest.

From my arms you were taken

back to my cell I was sent

fifteen years will never compare to what losing you meant.

The ache in my heart is so deep,

not being beside you to watch you sleep.

I never knew your smell I could only pick up the telephone

and ask if you were doing well.

Months went by as I watched you grow

through photographs missing all the hugs, kisses,

the love and laughs.

I awaited my fate,

not yet knowing my release date. Time went by

you began to talk and walk on your own

I learned I would not be free until you are grown.

I try to remain strong and pay my debt.

It is an extravagant bill living each day

with the heartache I feel.

Sometimes I pray for death

then I look at a recent photograph

and I am reminded I owe you, if not myself

one more day, one more breath.

Deanna Lynd #Y24235 C1112 Lower

Homestead Correctional Institution

19000 SW 377th St. Suite #200

Florida City, FL 33034-6400

----------------------------------------

Women and Prison: A Site for Resistance

is a project of Beyondmedia Education.

Beyondmedia Education
4001 N. Ravenswood #204 C
Chicago, IL 60613
USA
tel: 773-857-7300
fax: 773-857-7301
info@womenandprison.org
www.beyondmedia.org