Children in juvenile hall have food security and shelter, unlike many of us. COVID-19 has stolen these basics from countless among us, including families of kids in custody. Worry is constant. Routines are disrupted. Our elders are likely isolated from loved ones.
Fear for the lives and well-being of our loved ones creates fragile hearts and burdened minds. Dear ones will die. Just as our routines have been tossed into chaos, kids in jail are struggling with the wrath of this pandemic. Although the kids in confinement have steady food sources, all other aspects of this turbulent time have resonance with us.
COVID-19 has stolen the respite of routine for kids. No school. No P.E. No visits. Our incarcerated children crumble in this new reality. We have stripped them of all inspiration and emotional stability. In its place are long hours of isolation and despair. Day after day. No reprieve. Survival is risky. How many young lives will be lost? How many kids will not have that second chance?
Jane Guttman
Mental and emotional anguish become a daily struggle in juvenile halls across the nation. Stormy days become solemn nights. Children separated from family, from street life, from the safety net of kinship embark on a desperate and explosive course. Their woes advance to suicide watches, self-mutilation, conduct disorder and appalling meltdowns.
It is an upstream swim at best and always the threat of someone drowning. Mitigation comes in the form of education. School. Five hours a day for most and a chance to be distracted from the cells of despair. The classroom is the place. It is held in high esteem by most incarcerated children.
Next comes P.E. Daily for most and a chance to be active and engaged in a semblance of adolescent normality. Then, visits. A time to be with loved ones. The visit room is a beautiful scene. Tears, love, hope, nurturing and the chance to be a child provide an intermission from the perennial anguish of life in custody. COVID-19 has disrupted every semblance of mercy and structure that holds kids together during imprisonment. And it can steal their life.
Every night in New York City and now elsewhere in the nation, people are stepping out on their balconies and applauding the medical workers to give hope and solidarity. I am proposing that we join together on our balconies or in our living rooms to applaud for the children. To give hope. To soothe the agony of their aloneness. To let them know they’re in our circle of solidarity as we wait for them to come home. To let them know they are not forgotten.
We know you are scared. Very scared. We are concerned for you and want you to know there are advocates across this nation that are working to keep you as safe as possible.
You are not forgotten. You are not dismissed. You are valued. The threat and concerns of the COVID-19 virus keep us focused on being helpers for you. Remember Mister Rogers? You may have watched his show, “Mister Rogers' Neighborhood.” When he was very young, his mama said to look for the helpers. You need to do that now. Who are the helpers inside your juvenile hall? Who can you turn to for support and comfort? Turn to your faith, your family, your friends, your staff, a nurse, a therapist and your teacher.
What to do and not do
Here are some things not to do during this time: No close physical contact with others. No door banging. No screaming at your door. No gang signs. No fights. No staff disrespect. No threats. No plugging up your toilet. This is a time to focus on positive deeds.
There are things you can do to comfort yourself: Write a poem. Have a phone call with your family. Talk to family in your thoughts. Write a letter to a loved one. Make a list of things you want to do when you go home. Give support to a kid who is really worried. (From a distance.) Read a book. Read the bible if that is helpful. Recall a time when you felt good. Think about a person who helped you. Chat with them in your mind.
Here is something to do before sleep time. Close your eyes and see those who love you all around you. Imagine that they are smiling at you, sending you love. This form of imagery can help you feel some peace. See if this is helpful for you.
Thank staff for helping. Let staff know you understand their worries. Offer to read a story to a small group with everyone keeping good distance. Remember a time when you felt safe. If you cannot recall such a time, imagine what feeling safe is like. Have a conversation with yourself. Reassure yourself that better days are ahead.
Make a list of all the good things about YOU. Let that list grow and grow and grow. If pencils aren’t allowed, keep the list alive in your thoughts. Go through the alphabet in your mind and think, say or write one positive thing about YOU for each letter. Be aware of your health status. Tell staff right away if you don't feel well. Ask to see a nurse.
It may turn out that someone in your family gets sick. This will be so hard. Ask for help. Ask to see a therapist. Ask to talk to staff. Talk to another kid, from a distance. Write about your feelings. Share your sadness and fears. You may already know that there have been deaths related to COVID. This creates great fear and sadness.
The thought of a loved one dying while you are incarcerated is very, very painful. Let others know you are afraid. Ask to talk to a helper. Do not carry this burden on your own. Some of you will want to pray. If prayer is not a practice you follow, you can send positive thoughts to your loved ones. Your positivity and love can travel to those you love. We do not have to be together in a physical setting to transmit our love. If you learn that a loved one has died, ask for help. Grief is something to share. Let others comfort you. Cry.
Your thoughts matter. Your feelings matter. You matter. There are many of us sending you peace, love, caring, positivity and hope. Know that when this has passed, life will begin again. You will finish your time in the hall, you will go home or to placement. Some of you will go to youth prison. Some could go to adult prison. Some of you will turn 18 and be transported to a county jail. Some will have a trial.
The story of a gang banger
Whichever story is yours, take stock of what you learned in this experience. Many will learn that you do not want to be confined again. That you want to be near your family. That you want to be close if someone you love gets sick or dies. You can create a positive adult life. This is one experience in the many that will follow in your lifetime. Use what you learn in this time to create the life you want. Then find a mentor. Find a helper.
Many years ago while teaching in juvenile hall, I met the author Luis J. Rodriguez. I had followed his work for quite some time and saw that he was coming to our city to give a talk at the local library. Luis began life with many hurdles. He was out there gang banging at a young age and lost his first homie at age 11. During a police chase, Luis and his homeboy were running across rooftops to escape. The kid fell from the roof to his death.
While Luis was out there on the streets he also took time to visit the library. He spent long hours there reading. He said, "Books saved me." He read and read and read. And then he began to write. He has won award upon award through the years. When he came to our city I brought a group of kids from one of the treatment programs to meet him. He shook everyone's hand and gave a signed copy of his book, “Always Running,” to a young woman to share with the others. She held it with respect and honor. Luis was kin. One of them and one with them.
Here is what Luis has taught kids. “Everyone has greatness inside. It is your responsibility to find yours.” Wherever I go to teach incarcerated men, women and children, I share about this. It can be a life changer. It is real. Luis discovered his greatness and he asks that you find yours.
You, too, have that greatness. That is the very thing that will help to get you through this time of COVID and all of the related fears. Your days are filled with unstructured time. No school. Possibly no P.E. No family visits. That adds up to some very hard times. Use this time to exercise in your cell, write, if pencils are allowed, and read, read, read.
You may know about Stanley “Tookie” Williams. One thing he said to incarcerated youth was to read everything you can. Read about history, religion, science. Read about the outstanding men and women of your cultural heritage. Tookie said reading will enlighten you. Reading can help you manage your emotions during a time of such uncertainty. Just as Luis said, “Books saved me.”
The change in your routine can be traumatic for you. The loss of family visits is painful. Revisit some of those times in your mind and heart. Recall how good you felt when family was able to visit. And if you didn't have visits, as often can happen, imagine how good it will be to see family again. In the absence of kin in your life, possibly clergy or a guardian can offer you nurturing and support.
Family comes in many forms. Ask staff about phone calls. See when you can talk to loved ones. Speak to them from your greatness. Let them know you are handling the circumstances. And if, instead, you feel isolated and fearful, tell them how good it is to hear their voice and to know they are out there waiting for you. Your loved ones have great concern for you. The kinship you share goes far beyond cell walls.
Write a letter to your teacher. Tell her or him all the good things. What you like learning, what you are good at doing, what your vision is for your life. Thank your teacher for being with you as you travel the often painful path of incarceration. Most teachers really believe in you. They are there to help you open the door to your own greatness. Some of those teachers see the gifts you have and the gift you are.
Luis Rodriguez didn't always live his greatness. He used heroin and alcohol. It took him a long time to give this up. It was a process. Then he became a poet, an author and a gang prevention specialist. His life, like yours, had enormous grief.
Here is what he said about all that. “Cry, child, for those without tears have a grief that never ends.” I hope you will cry in your grief. Don't save it up. In the privacy of your cell, let the tears flow. Let your sadness move from your heart and cry.
Plan your future
Across this land there are many who care about you. This is real. We are out there working for change, working to get more programs, more rehabilitation, more inspiration and more humanity. In 2015 I wrote a book about kids in jail. One of the reasons I did that was to let "my" kids know they would not ever be forgotten.
That was real then and continues to be the reality now. You are not forgotten. We are out here and there for you. We want to see you get second chances and when this COVID crisis passes to grasp your life and soar. Because you have that greatness inside that Luis Rodriguez shared about.
Life can be very, very hard. This is one of those times. You are your greatest resource in these circumstances. Design a dream. Think about where you will be one year from now, and where you want to be one year from now. Even if you have further incarceration, think about what you could do inside. Kenneth Crawford is inside, possibly for life. He became an accomplished artist in prison and also an advocate for men with mental health challenges. He works with staff to help those men.
If you struggle with mental health concerns, let your staff know. Let a nurse know. Take your meds. Ask for time with a therapist. You can talk to a therapist at your window. Or possibly on the unit phone. It doesn’t have to be face to face. In a time like this, many of us feel anxious, depressed or even have panic episodes. If you have thoughts of suicide tell staff right away. We want you to be safe. Let an adult know you need help. Ask for a helper.
Every time something positive happens, consider being grateful. Before falling asleep at night, think about things you are grateful for. People, moments, memories ... Gratitude is good medicine for our spirit. It helps to create hope and positivity. You can get through this time. You and your greatness.
Jane Guttman is a retired correctional educator, wellness educator, emotional literacy specialist and prison life literacy advocate. Her book, “Kids in Jail: Portrait of Life Without Mercy” addresses the pain for kids and the inspiration of kids.