danielle
07-27-2003, 09:23 PM
Bedtime Stories on Tape, From Prison
Reading Program Gets Mothers Reconnected
By Robert E. Pierre
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, July 28, 2003; Page A03
INDIANAPOLIS -- Patricia Losito's 1-year-old son Rocky hardly knows her.
"When I say Mama, he says, 'No, Dada,' " said Losito, 27, who understands her son's reticence.
After all, Losito has been confined on a drug conviction at the Indiana Women's Prison since Rocky was born. But now Rocky and his two older sisters get to hear their mother's voice every night as the result of a year-old reading program underway at five prisons across the country. The program helps ease the separation anxiety that occurs when mothers are locked up.
Losito augments her visits and phone calls with her children by reading them books. She records the tapes. At bedtime or whenever they want, her children can pop in a tape, listen and follow along with books.
"It took them away from the television," the elder Rocky Losito said after recently visiting his wife. "It helped them start reading more. Now I can't keep them away from my stereo."
Program organizers contend that the children and incarcerated mothers benefit.
"This is an opportunity for them to stay connected," said Mary Leffler, director of special projects for Volunteers of America, which has partnered with New York-based publisher Scholastic Inc. to provide books and materials for the program.
Leffler acknowledges that the program -- still in its infancy -- can succeed only in an environment that is committed to rehabilitation as opposed to just warehousing people.
And this facility, located on Indianapolis's near east side since 1873, is considered a national leader in that regard. The women live in dorm-like facilities. Visitors are allowed on the grounds every day. College courses and opportunities to learn trades including catering and carpentry are offered.
Those who complete parenting classes are allowed to use the family preservation center. There, inmates get to interact with their children for six hours each month in addition to the regular visits (some women get weekly visits from their children, others rarely get a visit). The center is full of bright colors, cushy furniture, toys and games.
Another morale booster and one of the most popular perks for the women -- and teenagers who have been waived into the adult penal system -- is that they get to wear their own clothes.
"If you dress everyone alike, it's hard for them to be an individual," said Superintendent Dana Blank, who has spent 30 years in corrections. "They come in as very damaged individuals. We try to send them out with self-confidence and the ability to take charge of their lives. I don't think it's our job to punish. I think our job is to refocus. The important thing is to try to bring the walls down and bring the community in."
A special training program on site pairs inmates with dogs that live with them and are being trained to help the disabled perform everyday tasks.
Every summer, there is a week's worth of all-day activities for the inmates' children. This year's camp, which ended Friday, drew 55 children and more than 100 community volunteers. A supermarket donated the food.
Randall Koester, Indiana's deputy prison commissioner for external relations, said that the prison benefits from being a mile from the center of Indianapolis and that with its 400 inmates, the prison is one-third smaller than the state's larger women's facility.
Still, he said, what goes at Indiana Women's Prison under Blank is innovative. "She doesn't try to create an environment that is overly punitive," Koester said. "Instead of waiting to see what comes along, they go out and find out what's in the community that can help them."
So it was a natural fit when Volunteers of America proposed the reading program. Inmates who remain involved in their children's lives are more likely to take advantage of opportunities to better themselves and try to change bad habits, Blank said.
"Children are the other victims of a mother's crime," Blank said. "Being able to hear their mother's voice while reading a story gives them a sense of security and minimizes the abandonment issues most children of incarcerated mothers experience."
Inmates are trained in how to read short stories and poems, focusing on where to place emphasis or learning not to rush so their children can keep up. Scholastic provided the books and seed money for the program -- which is also being tried in Washington state, Ohio and New York. Each child is given a tape player, headphones and books to read along with their mothers. The program runs six weeks, and inmates who are selected are allowed to send one book a week to each child. But some women have found a way to send more.
"I think I sent about 20," said Losito, who has just completed the first year of a 10-year drug sentence. She is hoping to get her sentence reduced and be out within a couple of years.
On a recent afternoon, a class of eight inmates listened as instructor Emily Chambers discussed strategies for reading poetry.
"When you read a poem, it's not to be rushed through," Chambers said.
But as the women flipped through a book titled "Arroz Con Leche," or "Popular Songs and Rhymes from Latin America," some of them appeared stumped even after re-reading a poem called "At Heaven's Gate."
"I'm lost," one woman said. "I don't know what cobbler means."
Soon hands went up to express their thoughts about the meaning of the poem.
It was the inmates' third week, but most of their children had not received tapes because of a problem that prison officials promised would be fixed immediately.
Graduates of the program can attest to its benefits. For Claudia Lopez, it was a chance to connect with her 2-year-old son, Emilio, who was born seven weeks before she was arrested for dealing drugs. Because the couple that cares for him lives a few hours away, she rarely gets visits. "He didn't really know who I was," said Lopez, who received a 20-year sentence. "He wouldn't come to me. Now he asks for Claudia to read to him."
Shirwanda Boone, 30, of Gary said reading also brightens the spirits of her three boys, ages 4 to 12. It's particularly important because she has at least another two decades remaining on her 30-year murder sentence. Boone keeps busy with the reading program, her catering job, tutoring other students to get their GED and working on a bachelor's degree. "I came to jail and got educated," Boone said.
Tracy Coleman said her children, ages 7 and 9, are much happier when they see her now than before she was arrested on drug charges. The reading program, she said, "opened doors for me to be in constant contact with my kids."
"I snorted [cocaine], so I thought that made me different," said Coleman, who has served 21/2 years of a 10-year sentence. "I thought that was my destiny. When you get in so deep, you think there is no way out. Now I know I have choices."
Reading Program Gets Mothers Reconnected
By Robert E. Pierre
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, July 28, 2003; Page A03
INDIANAPOLIS -- Patricia Losito's 1-year-old son Rocky hardly knows her.
"When I say Mama, he says, 'No, Dada,' " said Losito, 27, who understands her son's reticence.
After all, Losito has been confined on a drug conviction at the Indiana Women's Prison since Rocky was born. But now Rocky and his two older sisters get to hear their mother's voice every night as the result of a year-old reading program underway at five prisons across the country. The program helps ease the separation anxiety that occurs when mothers are locked up.
Losito augments her visits and phone calls with her children by reading them books. She records the tapes. At bedtime or whenever they want, her children can pop in a tape, listen and follow along with books.
"It took them away from the television," the elder Rocky Losito said after recently visiting his wife. "It helped them start reading more. Now I can't keep them away from my stereo."
Program organizers contend that the children and incarcerated mothers benefit.
"This is an opportunity for them to stay connected," said Mary Leffler, director of special projects for Volunteers of America, which has partnered with New York-based publisher Scholastic Inc. to provide books and materials for the program.
Leffler acknowledges that the program -- still in its infancy -- can succeed only in an environment that is committed to rehabilitation as opposed to just warehousing people.
And this facility, located on Indianapolis's near east side since 1873, is considered a national leader in that regard. The women live in dorm-like facilities. Visitors are allowed on the grounds every day. College courses and opportunities to learn trades including catering and carpentry are offered.
Those who complete parenting classes are allowed to use the family preservation center. There, inmates get to interact with their children for six hours each month in addition to the regular visits (some women get weekly visits from their children, others rarely get a visit). The center is full of bright colors, cushy furniture, toys and games.
Another morale booster and one of the most popular perks for the women -- and teenagers who have been waived into the adult penal system -- is that they get to wear their own clothes.
"If you dress everyone alike, it's hard for them to be an individual," said Superintendent Dana Blank, who has spent 30 years in corrections. "They come in as very damaged individuals. We try to send them out with self-confidence and the ability to take charge of their lives. I don't think it's our job to punish. I think our job is to refocus. The important thing is to try to bring the walls down and bring the community in."
A special training program on site pairs inmates with dogs that live with them and are being trained to help the disabled perform everyday tasks.
Every summer, there is a week's worth of all-day activities for the inmates' children. This year's camp, which ended Friday, drew 55 children and more than 100 community volunteers. A supermarket donated the food.
Randall Koester, Indiana's deputy prison commissioner for external relations, said that the prison benefits from being a mile from the center of Indianapolis and that with its 400 inmates, the prison is one-third smaller than the state's larger women's facility.
Still, he said, what goes at Indiana Women's Prison under Blank is innovative. "She doesn't try to create an environment that is overly punitive," Koester said. "Instead of waiting to see what comes along, they go out and find out what's in the community that can help them."
So it was a natural fit when Volunteers of America proposed the reading program. Inmates who remain involved in their children's lives are more likely to take advantage of opportunities to better themselves and try to change bad habits, Blank said.
"Children are the other victims of a mother's crime," Blank said. "Being able to hear their mother's voice while reading a story gives them a sense of security and minimizes the abandonment issues most children of incarcerated mothers experience."
Inmates are trained in how to read short stories and poems, focusing on where to place emphasis or learning not to rush so their children can keep up. Scholastic provided the books and seed money for the program -- which is also being tried in Washington state, Ohio and New York. Each child is given a tape player, headphones and books to read along with their mothers. The program runs six weeks, and inmates who are selected are allowed to send one book a week to each child. But some women have found a way to send more.
"I think I sent about 20," said Losito, who has just completed the first year of a 10-year drug sentence. She is hoping to get her sentence reduced and be out within a couple of years.
On a recent afternoon, a class of eight inmates listened as instructor Emily Chambers discussed strategies for reading poetry.
"When you read a poem, it's not to be rushed through," Chambers said.
But as the women flipped through a book titled "Arroz Con Leche," or "Popular Songs and Rhymes from Latin America," some of them appeared stumped even after re-reading a poem called "At Heaven's Gate."
"I'm lost," one woman said. "I don't know what cobbler means."
Soon hands went up to express their thoughts about the meaning of the poem.
It was the inmates' third week, but most of their children had not received tapes because of a problem that prison officials promised would be fixed immediately.
Graduates of the program can attest to its benefits. For Claudia Lopez, it was a chance to connect with her 2-year-old son, Emilio, who was born seven weeks before she was arrested for dealing drugs. Because the couple that cares for him lives a few hours away, she rarely gets visits. "He didn't really know who I was," said Lopez, who received a 20-year sentence. "He wouldn't come to me. Now he asks for Claudia to read to him."
Shirwanda Boone, 30, of Gary said reading also brightens the spirits of her three boys, ages 4 to 12. It's particularly important because she has at least another two decades remaining on her 30-year murder sentence. Boone keeps busy with the reading program, her catering job, tutoring other students to get their GED and working on a bachelor's degree. "I came to jail and got educated," Boone said.
Tracy Coleman said her children, ages 7 and 9, are much happier when they see her now than before she was arrested on drug charges. The reading program, she said, "opened doors for me to be in constant contact with my kids."
"I snorted [cocaine], so I thought that made me different," said Coleman, who has served 21/2 years of a 10-year sentence. "I thought that was my destiny. When you get in so deep, you think there is no way out. Now I know I have choices."