Family, no matter what

By: Melanie WongLife changed for 7-year-old Denise Carr when she pulled up in front of her family's Chicago home in June 2002 and saw her mother being escorted into a police car.

It had been a good day, she remembers. An aunt had taken Denise and her younger siblings-two sisters and a brother-to the beach.

"All of a sudden, I just saw [the police] there. I wanted to get out, but we had to stay in the car. I didn't know what was going on," says Denise.

She says her grandmother explained the situation to her later. "I was sad and mad, because I was thinking, 'Why would they do that to her?'"

Research suggests that, for many children, a parent's incarceration can have devastating consequences. But Shaun Carr, 35, was determined that would not be the case for his children, Denise, now 12, Christa, 10, Brittany, 9, and Michael, 7.

In an effort to create as "normal" an environment as possible, Carr moved his family his family to the south suburbs so they can be close to relatives. He stretched the family's budget to ensure that his children stayed in regular contact with their mother. And Carr, an ex-felon himself, worked to provide a stable home life for his children and to shield them from the stigma associated with having an incarcerated parent.

As a result, the Carr children have avoided many of the pitfalls that have befallen many other children with incarcerated parents, such as poor grades, behavioral problems and trouble with the law.

A 2000 study by the Bureau of Justice Statistics at the U.S. Department of Justice found that most parents in state prisons had some form of regular contact with their children, but usually not in the form of personal visits. According to the study, more than 54 percent of mothers and 57 percent of fathers reported that they never saw their children during imprisonment.

The Carr children, however, visit their mother at the downstate Lincoln Correctional Center at least once a month but sometimes almost every weekend.

The visits are something the children look forward to all week, Carr says. During the visits they play games or read books together. They chat, and their mother always checks up on their grades.

"When we visit her, I just want the ride there to be over quickly so we can see her," says Denise.

The children talked excitedly about the gifts they would bring their mother during a February visit to celebrate her birthday. Denise said she would like to buy her mother a ring and planned to give her a magazine collage she made in art class.

Brittany says that family birthdays are especially anticipated. They make cakes and candy-and-popcorn concoctions, and the family celebrates together at the prison.

The children keep their mother involved in their everyday lives by updating her on all their latest activities and sending her photos of new outfits.

"We want her to feel like she's not left out no matter how long she's gone or how far away she is," Denise says.

The family always attends organized visits such as the annual three-day Mom and Me Camp, and Christmas and Mother's Day visits. The children talk with their mother by phone once or twice during the weeks when they can't visit.

Carr says the constant family interactions reassure the children that family is first, that their mother is still part of the family and that they have not been abandoned.

He can understand his wife's situation better than most, because he was also imprisoned for 19 months on drug manufacturing charges. He was released in the spring of 2001, a little over a year before his wife was arrested.

Carr spent most of his time at Hardin County Work Camp, almost five-and-a-half hours away from Chicago. Because of the distance, he only saw the family three or four times during his two years at the work camp. He was not able to witness Michael's birth.

"Even though she's gone, we're very close. [Incarceration] definitely puts a different spin on it, but emotion-wise, [the relationship] hasn't changed," Carr says.

Studies link parental incarceration with a number of developmental problems and higher rates of imprisonment for children. A 2002 Bureau of Justice Statistics survey found that 46 percent of jail inmates had a close family member who had been imprisoned. Other affects of parental incarceration include behavioral problems in school and poor academic performance.

But Carr says he is not too worried about his children.

Carr says he has made sure his children are growing up in a good neighborhood and close to supportive relatives. Also, he says he has instilled in them the idea that actions lead to subsequent consequences. As a result, his children have stayed on the honor roll at school and stayed out of trouble, he says.

"I keep myself together [around the kids] to neutralize all the uncertainty and terror that people usually feel in these situations," he says. "The older they get they'll understand it better."

In addition, Carr says he has tried to shield his children from gossip and speculation. He is adamant that the children do not talk about their mother's incarceration outside the family, and he tries to remain positive. "The kids' reactions stem from how the caregiver sees it. If [the caregiver] sees it as a crisis, so will the kids," he says.

However, for the Carrs, a "normal family life" can be costly.

When the family makes the two-and-a-half-hour trip to Lincoln, they stay the entire weekend, leaving Chicago as early as 6 a.m. With motel, food and gas costs, the visits can cost $200 to $300 each.

"Actually, I can't afford it," says Carr. "It's been hard. You get behind on the bills, but we make it month by month."

The family takes advantage of organized visits through Lutheran Social Services when they are offered. Carr says these visits help ease his travel costs.

Despite his efforts, however, Carr would be the first to admit the situation is anything but normal. For all their visits and phone calls, the children still feel the absence of their mother; her expected release date is Jan. 14, 2008, Carr said.

"I just miss her presence," says Denise. "She would say good night, give us hugs, say our prayers with us, and make us breakfast."

Even Michael, who was barely 2 when his mother was arrested, talks wistfully of mom's cooking and when she awakened them in the morning. With a pout coming over his lips, Michael said he was most disappointed that his mother could not attend his birthday party in March.

The living situation is essentially that of a single-parent household, and the children seem to feel that acutely.

"I see everybody else with [both of] their parents, and it's sad," says Christa.

When talking about the first night her father was released from prison, Denise says she remembers feeling like a "real family" again. "We weren't gonna be apart no more," she says.

Carr says that the children, especially his daughters, have been forced to grow up faster in the absence of their mother. He has taught his daughters to cook, clean the house and do laundry. And the girls have taken on the house-keeping chores and stepped up to help take care of their little brother. Carr believes the children have formed close bonds with each other as a result.

"We've always been close no matter what," Denise says.