Crime and Family Punishment

Kimberley McGee

Sunday, Sept. 12, 1999 | 9:54 a.m.

Do the crime, do the time.

But what about the life that was before? Mom and Dad? Big Sis? The children?

When a son, sibling or even a parent goes to jail, they do not stop being part of a family. They don't stop being needed, wanted, loved. But they do stop being there and societal shame settles over those left behind. So where does the family on the outside start?

With a little help from those who have been there, or are still struggling with issues -- of money, transportation, isolation, acceptance -- that prison life brings to the innocent by-stander: the family.

They gather weekly in small groups around the valley: Nevada Cure, Friends & Family of Incarcerated People, and Prison Fellowship. These groups are the only outlets for most people to reveal their secrets safely and reach out to others in support. It's here where they can begin to heal themselves, help the inmate and move on in a positive direction.

Donna Metcalf, director of Friends & Family of Incarcerated Persons, says the groups offer a safe place for the other victim of a crime, those involved by default.

"They want to know what everybody is thinking and feeling," she says. "It's the only place they can come to and open up and talk about it. You are loving (the inmate) and caring for them and missing them and most people don't understand."

Although the family members did not do the crime, they are unwillingly put in a situation in which the prison system becomes familiar. They are told when they may see, speak or send packages to their loved one. And often they are turned away from the prison due to lock-downs, or packages are returned or go missing. Finally, they just can't afford the collect calls, the long trips and the emotional toll. It can get lonely and frustrating.

"They want to get information on how they can get back and forth for visitation, how to do different things with the phone," Metcalf says, adding that hefty phone charges are just the tip of the iceberg when dealing with the prison system. "It can get very expensive."

Bonnie Paulie, chaplain at the Clark County Detention Center, helps families and inmates adjust to their circumstances and squeeze all the good out of a bad situation that they possibly can.

"No one knows what you have to go through if you have a loved one in prison," Paulie says."Good can come of this situation if they are willing to look at it. Families can recognize their dysfunction in the whole situation."

Many inmates have a drug and alcohol problem, she says, which prison life exacerbates, and the real problem behind the crime is not addressed.

"The law is not addressing the problem, the problem of addiction," Paulie says. "If we could begin to focus on what to do with addiction ... we can begin that process of healing."

Paulie has been involved in local prison reform since 1978 and says she has always felt a calling to help those on the inside become successful on the outside, and that involves tightening the bonds with families and friends.

"A lot of people who are arrested in Las Vegas have families in faraway places," she says. "I act as a liaison to make sure the persons in jail are going to be OK, they are not going to be mistreated. You don't hear that good things happen to people in jail.

"I try to ensure families that at this particular jail, inmates are treated with dignity," Paulie says. "They will be taken care of, they won't be harmed in Vegas."

She also takes care of the families on the outside.

"It's the families that really need the help because all of a sudden they find themselves without a bread winner," Paulie says. "They could lose everything that they had, especially, (that) they are going to lose their dignity. They become a marked person, the children are going to have to put up with the stigma."

Then there is the double threat to the child, now in a single parent home and with a role model in jail.

"The pattern isn't broken, the pattern will go on and on," Paulie says. "The father's in prison so the child's chance of recidivism is about 80 percent."

They are convicted felons, sure. but also, they have done their time and many want to make a change. Some either have never had the opportunity to grab onto something good and hold on, or have lost their grip and are reaching out for another chance.

"Our work helps inmates see there are people who care and are willing to risk for them," Paulie says. "Most people in jail and prison haven't seen themselves as being worthwhile at all. In our reaching out to them we help them to begin to see that perhaps they do have some worth."

Sarah Smith (not her real name) was a local elementary school teacher for more than 18 years. She and her husband sold their home, bought a motor home and were ready to hit the road when their son violated his parole -- she declined to say what he was originally convicted for -- and was sent back to prison. Smith is working with the prison system to help her maintain a relationship with her son.

"It's important that (family members) do not blame themselves," Smith says. "They should educate themselves and encourage their loved one in prison about what their rights are and familiarize themselves with the procedures."

Although Smith does not want to use her real name, she says families shouldn't be ashamed of having a relative in prison, "They didn't put them there," she says.

But they are there, she adds, and families must help each other and the inmates through the ordeal, and by ordeal she means the system itself with its red tape and rigid rules.

"Nobody wants to know how the prison system works until they have someone in there," says Smith, who is frustrated with the system: Inmates must call collect at a 55 cents-per-minute rate and can talk for only 15 minutes, which can add up to hundreds of dollars over time.

"There are too many barriers in the prison system for the family to support the inmate," Smith says. "Support groups can bring about change. They feel so alone, but they can get informed at the meetings."

But outside help can make a world of difference in understanding what is happening in the bureaucracy, and what it does to the dynamics of relationships.

"The (support group) families don't just complain but they offer solutions," Smith says. "Support groups are essential, and the ministers in the city, too. Talk to them, tell them you don't know how to explain to the kids or explain to Grandma."

Bob Watson, area director for the Nevada/Utah Prison Fellowship, says it behooves society to support the children of inmates through simple acts of kindness.

"They (suffer) separation from the parent, the stigma of having a parent in prison," he says. "Sometimes parents choose not to tell young kids where the other parent is, although many surmise after a time what happened."

That stress, along with the fact that most inmates' children are now in a single-parent home or foster situation can lead to a lot of pressure on the smallest victim of the crime.

"It's no surprise that these kids are at high risk," Watson says. "A few years ago they were referred to as a generational time bomb waiting to explode. We are already seeing a lot of that."

The Fellowship sponsors Angel Tree, a Christmas charity geared toward giving children of inmates much-needed clothes and fulfilling small wishes.

"We get some heart-wrenching requests," Watson says. "Some of these people are in real dire straits."

The charity gives one clothing item and "fun" item requested by each inmate for their children. Most ask for warm coats and a toy that the child has been asking for repeatedly, but is out of the parents' reach due to financial reasons. Most parents are incarcerated far away from family.

Watson, referring to the children, notes: "We want to make sure that in 20 years we are not delivering gifts to their kids."

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