JJT
04-26-2004, 12:02 AM
A mother turns her outrage into an effort to bring the impact of incarceration on loved ones to the fore
Monday, April 26, 2004
GABRIELLE GLASER
In 1998, when Brigette Sarabi opened the newspaper and saw a picture of a bank robber taken by a security camera, she was shocked to see that the robber was wearing the same shoes she had gotten her daughter Maddy for Christmas.
In fact, the robber was Maddy, who had been out of touch with Sarabi for four months.
Sarabi called the FBI, terrified that Maddy, then a heroin addict, was bound for even more danger. The police found Maddy, who pleaded guilty to four of six bank robberies she and a cohort had planned. Maddy, who was unarmed, served 38 months in a federal women's prison.
While most people involved with prison might want to blot out the experience, for this Portland mother and daughter it had lasting effects. Maddy went straight. And Sarabi, once a director of the McKenzie River Gathering Foundation -- the community foundation that makes grants to grass-roots organizations working on economic, environmental and social-justice issues in Oregon -- was so distressed by seeing families struggle with the imprisonment of loved ones that she founded the Western Prison Project.
Since 1999, the group has, among other things, worked to teach prisoners and families about drug treatment programs and educated 15,000 ex-felons about their voting rights.
For her efforts, Sarabi will receive a prestigious Gloria Award from the Ms. Foundation next month in Manhattan.
"The criminal justice system dehumanizes criminals, and it dehumanizes their families, too," Sarabi said. "Seeing it firsthand angered and energized me so much, I had to do something about it."
The Western Prison Project focuses on seven Western states -- Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Utah, Wyoming and Nevada -- that Sarabi thinks have an "over-reliance" on incarceration.
"In the last 30 years, we have quadrupled the number of prisons in this country," said Sarabi, who said she is also the victim of a violent crime. "We have the largest penal system in the modern world. Are Americans really such bad people?"
In 2001, 2.1 million Americans were in U.S. prisons or jails, according to Bureau of Justice statistics.
But few outside it recognize the costs, especially to the families of those behind bars. "You go to visit, and you feel bewildered and lost and afraid. It's overwhelming," Sarabi said.
Sometimes, as Sarabi and her younger daughter waited to see Maddy, they would watch, aghast, at the treatment of other families. Some would wait in line for a half-hour or more, only to be told they were in the wrong queue. "There are lots of good people who work at the jail, but they also become cynical and disheartened," she said. "It can be intimidating."
Sarabi tells a story of visiting Maddy and being told that she had only 30 minutes for the visit. "Only a half-hour?" she asked. "It's jail, lady," the guard said.
Sarabi laughs now, but it wasn't funny then. "It's a cycle that can spread bitterness to everyone involved," she said.
Jacquie Holmes can attest to that. Holmes, who advises families at the Albina Ministerial Alliance, has a son who has been in and out of prison for 12 years.
She credits Sarabi with bringing the impact of incarceration on prisoners' families to the fore. "When I started out, nobody was talking about what it meant to be a prisoner family and what were the effects on the person incarcerated," Holmes said. "Brigette has helped raise the profile of that discussion. By speaking out, she got others talking."
It is Sarabi's voice that attracted the attention of the Ms. Foundation, which helps fund the Western Prison Project. "Brigette understands that she has a voice, and she uses it to help others," said Holly Houston, a Ms. Foundation spokeswoman.
Although her incarceration was difficult, both Maddy and Sarabi credit prison with saving Maddy's life.
"I made a lot of bad decisions," said Maddy, who asked that her last name not be used. Maddy is now 28 and a social worker who counsels ex-offenders and addicts. She also is studying to become a registered nurse.
"Sometimes I can't believe I robbed some . . . banks," Maddy said. "You do stupid things when you use."
When asked about swearing off addictive products such as caffeine, she said, "Are you kidding? My car doesn't start without a lit cigarette."
But she is serious about the time she describes as "locked up."
"I'm sorry for what I did and for what I did to my family -- especially that I missed milestones in my little sister's life.
"My actions had consequences for me, and for them. It sucks to be away from everything you know. It sucks to know your mom has to drive 700 miles to visit."
She took a long draw from her tangerine-flavored water. "But it's my story, and it brought me to where I am. And if it can help others, maybe having learned how it is from the inside out isn't all a bad thing."
Maddy will travel to New York with Sarabi to accept the award on May 13. Is she looking forward to it?
"No," she said, eyes wide. "I'm terrified of flying."
Gabrielle Glaser: 503-221-8271; gabrielleglaser@news.oregonian.com
Monday, April 26, 2004
GABRIELLE GLASER
In 1998, when Brigette Sarabi opened the newspaper and saw a picture of a bank robber taken by a security camera, she was shocked to see that the robber was wearing the same shoes she had gotten her daughter Maddy for Christmas.
In fact, the robber was Maddy, who had been out of touch with Sarabi for four months.
Sarabi called the FBI, terrified that Maddy, then a heroin addict, was bound for even more danger. The police found Maddy, who pleaded guilty to four of six bank robberies she and a cohort had planned. Maddy, who was unarmed, served 38 months in a federal women's prison.
While most people involved with prison might want to blot out the experience, for this Portland mother and daughter it had lasting effects. Maddy went straight. And Sarabi, once a director of the McKenzie River Gathering Foundation -- the community foundation that makes grants to grass-roots organizations working on economic, environmental and social-justice issues in Oregon -- was so distressed by seeing families struggle with the imprisonment of loved ones that she founded the Western Prison Project.
Since 1999, the group has, among other things, worked to teach prisoners and families about drug treatment programs and educated 15,000 ex-felons about their voting rights.
For her efforts, Sarabi will receive a prestigious Gloria Award from the Ms. Foundation next month in Manhattan.
"The criminal justice system dehumanizes criminals, and it dehumanizes their families, too," Sarabi said. "Seeing it firsthand angered and energized me so much, I had to do something about it."
The Western Prison Project focuses on seven Western states -- Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Utah, Wyoming and Nevada -- that Sarabi thinks have an "over-reliance" on incarceration.
"In the last 30 years, we have quadrupled the number of prisons in this country," said Sarabi, who said she is also the victim of a violent crime. "We have the largest penal system in the modern world. Are Americans really such bad people?"
In 2001, 2.1 million Americans were in U.S. prisons or jails, according to Bureau of Justice statistics.
But few outside it recognize the costs, especially to the families of those behind bars. "You go to visit, and you feel bewildered and lost and afraid. It's overwhelming," Sarabi said.
Sometimes, as Sarabi and her younger daughter waited to see Maddy, they would watch, aghast, at the treatment of other families. Some would wait in line for a half-hour or more, only to be told they were in the wrong queue. "There are lots of good people who work at the jail, but they also become cynical and disheartened," she said. "It can be intimidating."
Sarabi tells a story of visiting Maddy and being told that she had only 30 minutes for the visit. "Only a half-hour?" she asked. "It's jail, lady," the guard said.
Sarabi laughs now, but it wasn't funny then. "It's a cycle that can spread bitterness to everyone involved," she said.
Jacquie Holmes can attest to that. Holmes, who advises families at the Albina Ministerial Alliance, has a son who has been in and out of prison for 12 years.
She credits Sarabi with bringing the impact of incarceration on prisoners' families to the fore. "When I started out, nobody was talking about what it meant to be a prisoner family and what were the effects on the person incarcerated," Holmes said. "Brigette has helped raise the profile of that discussion. By speaking out, she got others talking."
It is Sarabi's voice that attracted the attention of the Ms. Foundation, which helps fund the Western Prison Project. "Brigette understands that she has a voice, and she uses it to help others," said Holly Houston, a Ms. Foundation spokeswoman.
Although her incarceration was difficult, both Maddy and Sarabi credit prison with saving Maddy's life.
"I made a lot of bad decisions," said Maddy, who asked that her last name not be used. Maddy is now 28 and a social worker who counsels ex-offenders and addicts. She also is studying to become a registered nurse.
"Sometimes I can't believe I robbed some . . . banks," Maddy said. "You do stupid things when you use."
When asked about swearing off addictive products such as caffeine, she said, "Are you kidding? My car doesn't start without a lit cigarette."
But she is serious about the time she describes as "locked up."
"I'm sorry for what I did and for what I did to my family -- especially that I missed milestones in my little sister's life.
"My actions had consequences for me, and for them. It sucks to be away from everything you know. It sucks to know your mom has to drive 700 miles to visit."
She took a long draw from her tangerine-flavored water. "But it's my story, and it brought me to where I am. And if it can help others, maybe having learned how it is from the inside out isn't all a bad thing."
Maddy will travel to New York with Sarabi to accept the award on May 13. Is she looking forward to it?
"No," she said, eyes wide. "I'm terrified of flying."
Gabrielle Glaser: 503-221-8271; gabrielleglaser@news.oregonian.com