Teresa Bragg

Various stints in jail for theft, criminal trespassing and possession of drug paraphernalia cost Patricia Madden custody of her 15-year-old twins.

She communicates with her oldest daughter only through letters.

And she thought her 18-year-old son Akman was in Kentucky with relatives — until she saw him in a holding cell at the Silverdale Detention Center in mid-October. She had no idea why they were in the same facility.

“My son is the only one that gets in trouble, and the reason why is because I’m not there for him,” said Ms. Madden, 46, who since has been released from Silverdale. “I don’t want it to be a cycle.”

However, children of incarcerated parents face unwelcome odds. They are about six to 10 times more likely to wind up in prison than the average young person, according to a 2006 study by the Minneapolis, Minn.-based nonprofit Council on Crime and Justice.

Bryan Fair, a professor and associate dean of law at the University of Alabama, said prison populations began to explode nationwide when federal, state and local law enforcement declared war on drugs, specifically cocaine, in the 1980s. Instead of rehabilitating offenders, courts incarcerate them, often leaving children previously in single-parent homes without a parent, he said.

“I think children have become sort of the forgotten victims of the war on drugs, children who lose their mothers, who don’t have that sort of stabilizing influence, that nurturing sort of connection with that parent,” he said.

Children of incarcerated parents often struggle in school or drop out and turn to a life of crime , unable to work themselves out of a cycle of poverty, Mr. Fair said.

Debrah Stafford, the juvenile justice director for the Tennessee Commission on Children and Youth, an advocacy agency in Nashville, said prison programs often help inmates deal with personal problems, but too few help them maintain relationships with their children.

Children, she said, are “pretty much forgotten about.”

Ms. Madden hopes both she and her son can right themselves before either gets into more trouble.

Court records show her son had been charged with aggravated burglary and theft over $1,000, and he is awaiting a court date in Hamilton County Criminal Court.

“I just want to be somebody they look up to,” Ms. Madden said. “I hope they still have respect for me.”

Programs in prisons

After seeing how many inmates lacked the skills to be productive parents, Teresa Bragg, a drug and alcohol counselor with the Hamilton County Department of Correction, approached the county three years ago with the idea of offering parenting classes at Silverdale.

The classes — offered in conjunction with the Partnership for Families, Children and Adults — give men and women the chance to learn the basics of parenting, as well as how to deal with children from infants to teenagers. In addition, the weekly classes help inmates develop self-esteem, problem-solving skills and anger management awareness.

“We’re dealing with a population that doesn’t know how to behave,” Ms. Bragg said. “They cover up their pain from lack of parenting with substance abuse.”

The results of the classes, she said, are better and safer homes for children and parents, though she wishes she had more time with the mothers.

Kristi Saint, a 30-year-old former crack addict recently released from Silverdale, credits the classes with helping her learn how to be a better parent — and stop a destructive habit of medicating her problems with drugs.

Without the parenting classes, Ms. Saint said, she would have left her son, 31⁄2-year-old Eric, eliminating any chance of a relationship with him.

“I would have dropped him off and ran,” she said. “I never could have even known my baby.”

While in jail three years ago and also after her release, Ms. Saint learned how to feed Eric and how to handle his crying jags.

“A lot of times, I feel like I’m not a good mom,” she said. “I didn’t know how moms were supposed to act.”

Today, her relationship with her only son is awesome, she said.

“He loves me,” said Ms. Saint, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

Visitation limitations

Stacey Campbell, a 28-year-old mother of three, never had been away from her children for more than a day. Then she was arrested, booked on charges of possession of a controlled substance, reckless driving, aggravated assault on police and reckless endangerment and couldn’t make bond. She has been in Silverdale about six weeks.

She refuses visits from her children — ages 4, 9 and 13 — because she can’t bear it.

“I don’t want them to see me,” she said. “Do you know how hard it is to talk to your kids through a screen?”

Ms. Campbell said she would appreciate contact visits, something Silverdale no longer allows.

“The whole thing is human touch to create that sense of worth and love,” she said. “How do I ever make that up to my kids?”

Silverdale switched to a closed-circuit TV visitation system in 2004 after contraband became an issue in the facility, spokeswoman Christina Young said. The move immediately reduced the amount of illegal items finding their ways into of Silverdale, she said.

“The negative is, you’ve got families who are unable to hold children,” Ms. Young said. “It’s a lot less personal.”

Twenty-year-old Heather Hamilton feels as if she’s missing the most important parts of her daughters’ lives as 2-year-old Starr starts day care and 6-month-old Jade begins to scoot.

Ms. Hamilton, in Silverdale charged with aggravated assault, can hear about their accomplishments only on the telephone. She doesn’t always like visiting with her daughters through the TV visitation system.

With their father under house arrest, arranging visits is even more difficult, she said.

“That’s the hardest part of not being there,” Ms. Hamilton said. “Jade’s only (6) months. She can’t say, ‘Hey, I’m OK, Mom.”

Dr. Helen Eigenberg, an associate professor of criminal justice at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, said strict visitation policies and few mother-child programs in prisons hinder development of healthy parental relationships.

Prison administrators often think weekly visits help children maintain relationships with parents, but mothers need more involvement than that, Dr. Eigenberg said. Mothers regularly should communicate with children and aid them in their decision-making and lives on the outside, something that’s difficult when facilities restrict phone and Internet access, she said.

A myth persists that women behind bars are bad mothers, Dr. Eigenberg said.

“There’s nothing to indicate that because they got in criminal trouble, that they can’t be good parents,” she said.

Beating the odds

Some children overcome the challenge of separation.

On Friday nights this fall, East Ridge High School sophomore Donnie Garner could be found on the receiving end of an offensive play as running back for the football team.

On Saturdays between 8:30 a.m. and 9 a.m., the 16-year-old could be found on a telephone at Silverdale, talking to his mom, Sthomasa Ballou, 48, who was serving time for violating house arrest after being charged with possession of cocaine.

“We talk about the game every Saturday,” said Ms. Ballou, who is scheduled for release today.

One Friday night in mid-October, she and more than 180 fellow female inmates gathered to watch the East Ridge football game on a local channel, cheering and pounding walls as Mr. Garner scored his second touchdown.

Ms. Ballou feared her son would struggle when she went to Silverdale in May.

“I figured everything would go downhill,” she said.

Instead, he’s flourished on the football field and in the classroom, where he maintains a 3.75 grade point average, she said proudly.

Ms. Ballou followed her son’s progress through newspaper clippings, which she stashed under her mattress, even though it’s against Silverdale policy.

She credits those Saturday morning phone calls with helping the two maintain a relationship and keeping Mr. Garner in line.

“It’s probably the closest we’ve gotten,” she said.