Pubdate: Fri, 10 Jan 2003 Source: Columbia Missourian (MO) Copyright: 2003 Columbia Missourian Contact: http://www.digmo.org/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/2282 Author: ANN FRIEDMAN WOMEN AND THEIR CHILDREN ALIKE MUST ADAPT TO HAVING MOM BACK IN THE HOUSE WHEN SHE RETURNS FROM PRISON The day after Virginia Baker was released from prison, her family ate a seven-course breakfast on a school day. They brought out the extra leaf for the kitchen table and set six places - not five. Everyone helped pour milk and peel potatoes so they could eat before the youngest ones had to catch the school bus. The kids devoured plates of steaming pancakes and biscuits with sausage gravy. Mom was home, and everything tasted good. Then the back door slammed shut, and Baker was left alone. "I was thinking, 'How could I have done something so wrong to have to leave my children the way I did?' " she said. At the kitchen table, Baker started making a list of 100 goals: do laundry, plant flowers, stay sober, find a job. After spending eight months at the Women's Eastern Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center in Vandalia, Baker received early release in April and returned to her children in Columbia. She is working to regain custody of the kids, find a stable job and stay away from old habits. Baker said it is difficult for women, especially those who are only in prison a short time, to make the necessary preparations for release while they are still incarcerated. They often return to society with the same problems they had when they were sent to prison. Julie Rollins, women's program manager for the Department of Corrections, said she wants each offender to be able to successfully rebuild her life after her release. "Our goal is that the women who leave our prisons will become productive members of society," Rollins said. But Baker said the prison did not prepare her for the challenges she faces every day. "There's not a lot of support for women with children who get out of prison," Baker said. "There were days when I felt like just breaking down and crying, when I just didn't know what to do or where to turn." Family ties The situation in Baker's home was typical of many families with a mother in prison. When a woman is incarcerated, her children are often left in the custody of a relative. Baker's daughter, Channcy, 24, volunteered to take charge of her younger siblings while their mother was away. "She didn't want to see her brothers and sisters separated by the system," Baker said. If a mother can't find a relative who is willing or able to take her children, the kids are placed in foster care by the Division of Family Services. To regain custody after her release, the mother must meet a long list of requirements. "It's definitely more difficult to regain custody if the kids are in foster care," said Marie Kenyon, a St. Louis-based attorney. When the kids are in the care of a relative, the mother and her children often live with that relative after she is released. While the mother tries to regain legal custody of the children, there can be confusion in the family about who is the lead authority figure. "Sometimes women come out with unrealistic expectations about their children and family members," said Jackie Toben, director of Mothers and Children Together, a St. Louis-area support group for children with incarcerated mothers. "No matter what the legality, the mother wants to be in charge." Baker said there was no power struggle when she was released. Channcy was tired of being a single mother and ready for Baker to take over that role. "It's almost like I just took two years of her life," Baker said. "She didn't have a lot of help while I was gone." Although Channcy is still the legal guardian of the kids, Baker was in charge again from the moment she stepped through the front door. "They were so ready for me to take over," she said. Post-prison job hunt Baker was sent to prison in July 2001 for failing to maintain full-time employment under the terms of her probation on a drug conviction. She was incarcerated less than a year, so she was unable to take any job-training classes at the prison. "I got a violation for not working, and that was not addressed," she said. "The caseworkers should be there to help us find a skill and be working on that from day one." Now that Baker is released, she lacks the job skills she needs to find a stable job. And Baker must work full time to stay paroled. "If you haven't made preparations, you come right back to the problems you had before you went to prison," she said. The job-training classes at Vandalia fill up quickly, so Baker didn't even make it through the waiting list during her time at the prison. Rollins said many job-training opportunities are available, even for women who are serving short sentences. "We hold the offender accountable for getting involved while they're here," Rollins said. Instead of job training, Baker took a life-skills class that taught her how to fill out a job application and dress properly for an interview. In her mind, it wasn't enough. "What's the use of filling out an application if you don't have a marketable skill?" she asked. Her parole officer helped her land a job at a temp agency, but finding stable employment has been a daunting task. "There's a lot of stigma with hiring someone who has been to prison," Baker said. In the months since her release, she has faced the fact that her college training in computer science is now obsolete. Baker wants to go back to school to become a counselor. "I've been out of the field so long, going back to college is my only hope right now," Baker said. Baker didn't have the opportunity to take college courses while she was still in prison. The state does not provide financial aid for post-secondary courses to inmates older than 25. "Women that are over 25 have children and families to support and need to further their education to get better jobs," Baker said. "Had I been able to take a college course, that would have helped put me on the right track." Staying out Even though her family and friends provide constant encouragement, Baker said it's difficult for many women to find the support they need after release. "We come out with the reality that we have to start all over again," she said. "When you're under that pressure, a lot of people fall through the cracks." Many women are released to the same neighborhood, the same drug dealers and the same financial problems they had before they went to prison. "For these women, it becomes overwhelming," Rollins said. "We're trying to make it less overwhelming." The Department of Corrections is beginning a new pre-release program that Rollins hopes will meet many of the needs of female inmates. "The whole process is geared at every offender and preparing what is necessary for them to change their lifestyle and behavior patterns," said Patty Cornell, superintendent at the women's prison in Vandalia. From the moment women enter the prison system, Cornell hopes to help them to identify their own needs in areas like job skills, money management and drug treatment. Then the prison staff will work to meet those needs in an individualized plan. Rollins said the program, which is scheduled to begin by March 1, will encourage women to plan for release while they are still in prison. Until the new program begins, women must rely on their parole officer for help after their release. Baker wishes there were somewhere else women in Columbia could go for help. To keep herself motivated, Baker has continued to work through the list of challenges she made the day she came home. She wants to meet every goal on her list by the first anniversary of her release. "It gets easier as time passes," Baker said. "I would tell other women to accept who you are and get on with your life. Don't keep looking back." - --- MAP posted-by: Keith Brilhart