The challenge

Nationally, an estimated 1.3 million young children have mothers who are in prison or supervised by justice-system agencies, according to the U.S. Department of Justice. More than 90 percent of the 2,000-plus women in Georgia prisons are mothers of dependent children between the ages of 7 and 12. Most female prisoners are high-school dropouts and poor. Despite the disturbing numbers, the public has devoted few resources to the needs of prisoners' children, who suffer the trauma of social stigma, separation and family fragmentation.

Visits between children and their parents are often difficult or impossible. While the children of most male prisoners are raised by their mothers, children of imprisoned women are typically raised by single women – most over age 50 – who are usually maternal grandmothers or family friends already overburdened by work and family responsibilities. The effects of this societal neglect are often devastating. Recent studies indicate that daughters are more likely to replicate a mother's criminal behavior than are sons to repeat the criminal behavior of their fathers. Public awareness of this problem is incomplete, at best.

Seeds of commitment

Seventeen years ago, Sandra Barnhill, a defense attorney who often visited indigent clients in Georgia's prisons, noted the absence of agencies promoting positive relationships between children and imprisoned mothers. In the predominantly African American neighborhoods Barnhill served, she saw how incarceration of women was damaging three generations: the young mother, the older caregiver, and the children. "As a young lawyer, I quickly became disillusioned by the hypocrisy of the law,” Barnhill says. “As an African-American woman, I see daily the effects of the criminal-justice system on my community," she says.

Motivated by a strong desire to live out her faith, a deep commitment to community building, and a love for justice, she is appalled at the general public perception of women in prison. “Many people feel that not only is an incarcerated mother a criminal, but she is also an unfit mother, and we should lock her up and throw away the key,” she says. “They also feel that her children’s futures are just as bleak as hers, and no energy or resources should be put toward their development. Over the last 17 years, I have not seen an end to that prevailing attitude.” Still, Barnhill remains inspired by the women and children she works with, and is determined to change stark public attitudes.

Accomplishments

When Barnhill formed Aid to Children of Imprisoned Mothers (AIM) in 1987, she hoped not only to call attention to the need for reform but also to create an environment that would serve as a model for what society should do: create opportunities for people from all walks of life. One reason children are often prevented from visiting their incarcerated mothers is simple: lack of transportation. So AIM secured a van to transport metropolitan Atlanta children to visit their mothers in prisons throughout the state, a service that continues today. Also, because of Barnhill's work with the state Department of Corrections, all correctional facilities for women have created children’s centers in which mothers can touch, hold and read to their children during visits. AIM offers after-school programs, teen-leadership programs, summer camp, tutoring, Saturday programs, emergency assistance for families, and referral services – all focused on the needs of children of incarcerated mothers. In addition, thanks to AIM, mothers in prison receive parenting education materials, and assistance in raising their children after release.

To build her program and to begin the long task of changing public perception, she enlisted influential citizens to serve on AIM's board of directors. Early in AIM's history, Barnhill invited representatives from the Georgia Department of Corrections, Department of Family and Children Services (DFCS), Board of Pardons and Parole, Board of Education, state Mental Health Department and other agencies to AIM offices to discuss the issues and create a joint plan to provide continuing care for prisoners' children. Her strategy brought positive change: AIM was invited to provide annual training for correctional officers who worked at women's prisons; the state Department of Corrections purchased copies of the AIM manual, "Parenting from Prison," and made them available to prisoners and staff; and DFCS asked AIM to create a training curriculum for supervisors and front-line workers in metro Atlanta.

To date, AIM has served more than 3,700 mothers and 10,000 children. Many of these youngsters continue their involvement as AIM camp counselors and volunteers. AIM also has fostered seven service organizations that teach conflict resolution in high schools, hold support groups for released prisoners, and other activities. Former prisoners launched four of these groups. Though public opinion remains a barrier, Barnhill has helped individuals and institutions across the country become more aware of the plight of children of incarcerated parents. Her most important achievement has been the creation of what Bettieanne Hart, an Atlanta deputy district attorney, calls “an extended family for lonely and bewildered children.”

Leadership style

“Our program is based on the principles of collective work and responsibility, self-development and an appreciation for extended family,” says Barnhill. “While this approach is not unique, it is innovative in conjunction with the families we serve and the agencies and individuals brought together around the issue. Formerly incarcerated persons, caregivers and adult children of inmate mothers serve on staff and are members of our board of directors.” At AIM, it is not unusual to see an activist, corrections professional, academician, and corporate executive sitting at the same table with a caregiver who is leading the meeting, speaking out of her experience and cultural context. “For us, getting the input and buy-in of incarcerated mothers and their families is a must before we undertake any project." She never forgets whom she serves. In AIM headquarters in downtown Atlanta, the building's public area is a bright, uncluttered living space, with comfortable furniture and tables in corners where children play games or receive help with homework. A conference room doubles as a dining area where children eat healthful meals in a friendly atmosphere, several times a week. Staff offices, which are small, are tucked in back. When an office fire temporarily left children without space to participate, Barnhill opened her own home for several weeks until repairs could be made.

The future

Eager to pass along what she has learned, Barnhill helped create an internship program with Georgia State University's African-American Studies department. Barnhill uses challenging projects to "grab the students and pull them in," says Akinyele Umoja, a Georgia State professor. Every semester, 10 students tutor and mentor AIM children during prison visits. AIM also has launched a program called Children and Family Networks (CFN). Members include formerly incarcerated men and women, adult children of imprisoned parents, caregivers, family members, and practitioners. The goal: ensure that people whose lives have been shaped by prisons, directly or indirectly, are trained to become national leaders in a movement to reshape the prison system.

More about Sandra K. Barnhill and Aid to Children of Imprisoned Mothers

"She is just an extraordinary young woman.… She's been very successful at beginning to break down the barriers by very artfully saying to the system, 'Here's how I can help you.'"
– Elaine DeCostanzo, Assistant Division Director, Planning Research, and Evaluation Division, Office of the Governor (Georgia)