Letters to an Incarcerated Brother: Encouragement, Hope, and Healing for Inmates and Their Loved Ones

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Letters to an Incarcerated Brother: Encouragement, Hope, and Healing for Inmates and Their Loved Ones Page 11

by Hill Harper


  I’ll hit you up with more on this subject soon, all right? Hang in there. Speak soon.

  Peace,

  Hill

  FIRST . . . FAMILY

  LETTER 12

  Hill’s Assignment

  We’re the richest nation on Earth, with the highest number of imprisoned people in the world. Our drug addictions and child poverty are among the highest in the industrialized world. So don’t ever confuse wealth or fame with character.

  —Marian Wright Edelman

  My Man,

  I got your “assignment.” And let me tell you, there is no assignment I will be happier to complete. I’m so glad you finally hit me up with a list of questions I’m supposed to research on the Family and Corrections Network since you can’t get online. What really impressed me is how on-the-mark they are. Now that you’ve decided to get proactive about making your time behind bars count, I’m finding out how savvy you are about getting to the real core of a problem. So here are the answers to the questions you sent me about R. J.

  I spent a long time going from one link to another on the Family and Corrections Network website. It’s a pretty massive collection of information. Some of the links I found sent me to articles by caseworkers, recollections of people who’d had a parent incarcerated as they were growing up, statistics about the phenomenon, etc. In trying to answer your specific questions, here’s what I gleaned from them:

  1.Should my kid, R. J., be told the truth about my incarceration and why I’m inside or given some half-truth that would be easier for a child to swallow?

  Ideas about the children of incarcerated people have changed a lot in the last few years. In the past, some child protection agencies seemed to discourage bonds between children and parents who were going to be locked up for a long time. Nowadays, most professionals believe the opposite: Family members and caseworkers should try to strengthen the bonds between kids and their incarcerated parents. Part of doing that is to be absolutely honest about where an incarcerated person is, why he’s there, when he’s likely to come home, and whether it’s possible to visit him. So yes, R. J.’s mom, Yvette; or your aunt; or any adult he trusts and sees fairly regularly should explain all of it, taking care to give answers in a way that a kid his age can understand.

  That, however, is just one side of the equation. Children of incarcerated parents don’t only need to be clued in about their parents’ situation. They also have to be encouraged to talk about their feelings regarding it. Even a kid your son’s age might be feeling embarrassed or ashamed about having a parent in prison. Maybe he’s sensing the stigma attached to such a situation from the way he’s being treated in school (he’s in third grade, right?) or on the playground—not only by other children, but by the parents of these children or by teachers. As you know, it can be a fucked-up world out there. Believe it or not, a lot of adults who should know better lack any sensitivity about the ways a child can feel when his father is incarcerated. In fact, research about such kids’ feelings is still scant. Social science researchers and social workers are only just now starting to study it methodologically. Nevertheless, several things about it have already been proven.

  Most children are deeply affected by the loss of a parent to prison. Grief, guilt, anger, and a sense of abandonment are all common emotional consequences of it. These can lead to poor performance in school; having a “thin skin” that can’t withstand much stress, whatever its source might be; or even a higher probability of being attracted to drugs. One paper I read on the subject even compared the behavior of some children with incarcerated parents to the symptoms shown by those suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, an ongoing condition of severe anxiety and panic attacks that usually comes after exposure to a violent and frightening event, such as a military battle.1 Man, this is the condition Brothers suffer from after doing tours in Iraq. Can you believe a kid with an incarcerated parent can go through the same thing?

  Also—although I know it’ll be hard to get your mind around this one—it’s a fact that many kids feel that their parent’s arrest and incarceration is somehow their fault. These children need to understand that it isn’t and that the parent in prison doesn’t, of course, blame them—that he still loves them a great deal even though he can’t be there. In other words, it could help R. J. to know you love him and that none of this is his fault.

  Studies have found that the best treatment for all these symptoms is encouraging children to discuss their feelings, to talk about them often and at length. All their questions should be answered as honestly as possible by an understanding and caring adult, and one of those understanding and caring adults certainly could be you. Once you and I find a way for you to communicate with R. J., and if we can arrange for his visiting you, you should already have worked out a way to talk about your incarceration with him. I know it will be hard because you’re still working out your own feelings about it, but there is a way to rap honestly and simply to R. J. about such stuff.

  2.Would it really be good for R. J. to see me locked up?

  Definitely. Even though I do notice how negatively you put the question: Would it “really” be good for him to see you “locked up”?

  Let me put it this way: It would be good for him to see you—period. Wherever you are, in or out of jail. It will strengthen your parent/child bond, which R. J. needs to mature successfully. Being able to touch each other strengthens that bond, too, and that, of course, can only happen if he comes to you. His being able to see you regularly, to look forward to it, would be best of all.

  According to the article I read, regular visitations “normalize” a parent/child relationship. R. J. will learn to accept the fact of where you are and associate that place with the excitement and pleasure of seeing you, not with negative feelings of your being “locked up.” Regular visits can also establish your rights as a parent and ensure your ongoing connection to your family, so that when you get out, you can go right back to being an everyday father. In fact, what you say and do right now regarding your son can be critical when it comes time for a parole hearing. And if there has to be a custody fight with either Yvette or children’s services after you get out, it could strengthen your position. Successful visitations with your child can be used as evidence of your sense of responsibility for him.

  I’m glad you gave me this assignment, because I learned a fact I had never considered about child visitation. It’s not only R. J. who would benefit from regular visits to you. According to studies, bonding with their children has been proven to lower the rate of recidivism for people who are incarcerated. That’s a dope idea, isn’t it? R. J. can help keep you from going back to prison.

  3.If R. J. ever does come for a visit, how can I make him feel comfortable?

  Another great question from you. It hadn’t even occurred to me that a man who’s been separated from his child for more than a year might feel at a loss as to how to relate to him when he finally does see him. Especially a kid R. J.’s age who was not much more than just a toddler the last time you saw him and who may not even recognize you now.

  I checked out the same pamphlet I used to research these other questions.2 What’s funny is that it contains a list of activities for children up to three years old, then it suddenly jumps to those who are seven to ten years old. Your kid’s almost eight so I picked the activities from the older age group. You’d better prepare first and find out if your facility has any resources for child visitation, such as crayons, children’s books, puzzles, and stuff like that. But here’s what you can do:

  Draw pictures for R. J. to color in.

  Make up short stories using his name and yours as the main characters.

  Have him practice his numbers and the alphabet.

  Make up word puzzles.

  Play cards, dominoes, or Legos; read books; use material available at the prison.

  4.Even though
my kid is still stuck in a bad neighborhood with shitty schools, is there anything I can do to make him grow up better than I did?

  To research this question, I figured I’d get close to a source for that kind of information. Instead of spending hours surfing the Internet, I looked up a lady I dated for a few months right after I graduated from college. Now she’s the principal of a pretty tough inner-city Chicago school, so I figured she’d have some interesting answers. But I hadn’t thought her answer would be this unexpected.

  She told me about a new theory of education that claims it’s not always high grades or the “wealth” of a school that makes a student succeed later in life. Thinking that there’s an indelible equals sign between high grades on tests (and high IQs) and later success is called “the cognitive hypothesis.” But some new research is suggesting that character, not test scores, is a lot more valuable than the grades someone gets. Not only that, but character can be taught, regardless of the IQ level. But how?

  She told me I could read about the research that explains how in a new book, which I bought the day after I talked to her. It’s called How Children Succeed, by Paul Tough. Tough’s theory suggests that character is built upon the rhythms of failing and then persevering. The essential quality that allows a kid to persevere is his ability to put off instant gratification. As evidence of this, Tough describes Walter Mischel’s “marshmallow experiment” of the late sixties, which discovered that those kids who could resist eating a single marshmallow immediately in return for the promise of two marshmallows later did better in school and in the adult world because they could build toward long-term goals. This also speaks to the value of exhibiting discipline and self-control, the same thing you and I have been talking about.

  Based on these noncognitive theories of learning and coping, a group of schools is focusing not so much on preparing students for high grades but on finding ways to develop character. One of those schools, called Infinity, in West Harlem, is a middle school that teaches mostly low-income kids. Another, called Riverdale, is one of the most exclusive private schools in New York. Both schools give report cards that don’t evaluate kids’ progress at the three R’s. Instead, their report cards evaluate character strengths. Kids get marks in seven of these traits: grit, self-control, zest, optimism, social intelligence, gratitude, and curiosity.

  Tough describes Walter Mischel’s “marshmallow experiment” of the late sixties, which discovered that those kids who could resist eating a single marshmallow immediately in return for the promise of two marshmallows later did better in school and in the adult world because they could build toward long-term goals.

  At these schools, kids learn persistence, self-confidence, and resilience. Failing and then being encouraged to pick yourself up and go to the next challenge with the lessons learned from that failure are the life experiences that promise high achievement. Consequently, kids from both schools and backgrounds who are taught to face challenges optimistically, learn from failure, put off instant gratification for a better long-term reward, and keep alive their curiosity are on a true success track. And those habits aren’t useful just for kids. You and I need to be mindful of adopting these, as well.

  So, it isn’t necessarily money or privileges that will give R. J. certain success. High character, work ethic, perseverance, and innovation/problem-solving skills are all much more determinative. Bill Gates, the founder of Microsoft and the second-wealthiest man in the world, dropped out of college. Granted, he got into Harvard, but he decided not to stay. I truly believe in the transformative power of education, but it’s not about where you get educated, it’s about what is put in your head. So if R. J. can be made to see that failure is merely a challenge (or even better, an opportunity) rather than a condemnation, that optimism can take him where he wants to go, and that long-term goals are more valuable than quick pleasures, he’ll have a great chance for success.

  The good news is that you can help instill in R. J. many of those lessons right from where you are in jail. You can take an interest in his school projects in person or by letter, you can challenge him to explain what he has learned from his failures, you can give him long-term professional goals and the optimism to believe in them, and you can encourage him to feel grateful for those things he does have in his life, including your love for him and your interest in him. And, another way he will learn the strength of character to fail, persevere, and succeed is by watching how you navigate your life. Bottom line: Kids emulate their parents for better or worse, and from now on your life is for the better!

  Bottom line: Kids emulate their parents for better or worse, and from now on your life is for the better!

  Okay, teach, I think I’ve completed my assignment. I don’t know how helpful this is for you, but I gave it my best shot. And I want to tell you that I really appreciate how our relationship has evolved. To be honest, it’s gone from my wanting to help you because I felt sorry for you to my completely respecting you as a man. I consider this a real friendship that is a two-way street.

  Peace,

  Hill

  HIGH CHARACTER

  LETTER 13

  Smart Enough

  I know that I am intelligent, because I know that I know nothing.

  —Socrates

  Are you using your brain today or is it using you?

  —Dr. Rudy Tanzi

  Hey, man,

  I’m at the New York Aquarium in Coney Island, about to discover my next dead body. Ha. I mean my character on CSI: NY, Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, is. Per the script, somebody dumped the body in the shark tank, and it’s up to Hawkes to figure out whether the COD (cause of death) is shark bites or some other method of murder that came before. I’m just glad those clouds of blood in the tank are really Food Red 17 dye and that the shark’s a mechanical one, thank you very much. While they get all the mechanics going, and before they dunk me in that tank, I thought I’d drop you a line.

  Dr. Sheldon Hawkes is an imaginary guy, but after playing the same character for several seasons in a row, I began to really identify with him. In 2011, during the eighth season of CSI, I did an interview about the quick mind he’s been endowed with by our scriptwriters and about the fact that other characters rely on his intelligence. I said I was glad I could counter the usual stereotypes about African-American males by portraying a Black man with intelligence and savvy.

  I guess you can tell already that I’m leading up to that long phone conversation we had last night. Kept me up to eleven P.M., and I had to pop out of bed at four this morning to get to Coney Island to shoot this scene. Thanks a lot, Brotha! (You do know I’m joking, don’t you? Being able to talk with you on the phone is more than worth a sleepless night or two.)

  Anyway, I suppose it was that last letter where I talked about new research in learning and failure that started you thinking about intelligence and the fact that you’d always thought you weren’t smart enough to succeed. I happen to disagree with that evaluation because I think it’s just a case of those negative voices some of us have had fed into us since birth. Remember, I mentioned those voices quite a few letters ago. But at that moment I couldn’t think how to answer when you said something like, “Yeah, Hill, you tell me all the shit I can do and all the things I can accomplish and that my destiny is in my control . . . yeah, yeah. . . . But, Hill, I just don’t trust my brain or my instincts, I don’t trust my thoughts.” Essentially, you said that you’ve already learned a lot of fucked-up things in jail just to get through the experience and that it has impacted your ability to think about things in a clear and smart way.

  Wow, that threw me! First of all, it’s so astute of you to realize the mental dangers of a bad environment in the first place—and the fact that such an environment can mess with our ability to reason. We heard all about that during the Korean War, when they talked about brainwashing, and here you are saying almost the same about prison. You never cease to amaze me, ma
n!

  But after we hung up, I began thinking that if prison can rework your brain like you say it does—actually screw with your intelligence, intuition, and reasoning skills—then why can’t the opposite be true? The question is, how can you create the brain you want?

  I kept thinking about how to answer the question: How can you become the master of your own brain? Then I remembered a lecture I saw a year ago by this Harvard neuroscientist, Dr. Rudy Tanzi, and what he said about some of us letting one brain area dominate our lives. I guess it’s the primitive, survivalist parts of the brain that take the foreground in prison. But does it really have to be that way? The thing to remember—and I think you and I already came to this conclusion—is that you always have a choice. Always.

  As I dragged myself

  You always have a choice. Always.

  out of bed the next morning at four, I suddenly remembered that Tanzi had sent me his new book, Super Brain: Unleashing the Explosive Power of Your Mind to Maximize Health, Happiness, and Spiritual Well-Being, a work he cowrote with one of my friends and mentors, somebody I’ve already mentioned to you—Deepak Chopra.1 I’d stuck it on the shelf and then forgotten about it as one responsibility overlapped another and the days followed days. But this time, I took down the book and slipped it into my messenger bag before jumping in the car the studio had sent to take me out to Coney Island. During that entire drive, I sat in the back with my mini book light, devouring the book, and it was fascinating.

 

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