All of the 50 men in this classroom have broken the law. Some have killed a person and likely will never leave Louisiana’s state penitentiary in Angola.
Something else binds them, though. They are parents, and they are committed to keeping their children from joining them in a life behind bars.
“We try to challenge men,” George Gillam, 39, says. “I know you’re in prison. I know you failed. But there is hope. Let us teach you how to reconnect with your children.”
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The Times-Picayune
The men are members of the group Malachi Dads. The Christian-based program is designed to help inmates continue to serve as parents despite being incarcerated, its name and mission taken from a Bible verse: “And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers.”
An estimated 94,000 Louisiana children at some point have experienced the trauma that comes with losing a parent to prison. But a parent’s role in the life of a child does not have to end with their incarceration, advocates say.
Studies have found that between 33 percent and 43 percent of children who have a parent in prison will one day be incarcerated themselves. That cycle of imprisonment can be interrupted in part through parenting programs like Malachi Dads, which help inmates continue to give their kids guidance and support, advocates say.
“Children want to know that their parents care,” says Hayward Jones, 43, who is serving a life sentence for a 1997 home burglary that ended in death for the 71-year-old Slidell homeowner whose heart stopped during the break-in.
Jones’ 21-year-old son has struggled while Jones has been in prison, Jones says, and was recently arrested for assault. His son’s legal troubles have been frustrating for Jones, who says he can feel powerless to do anything from inside Angola.
But, he adds, the Malachi Dads program has helped him work through those feelings of helplessness, in part by turning to his fellow participants for support. He’s also found encouragement through the program to stay connected to his son through phone calls and letters.
“I’m with him every step of the way,” Jones says. “It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been a work I’ve put a lot of energy and time into, because I’m his dad and I’m going to be with him forever.”
Of the 36,508 inmates currently in the custody of the Louisiana Department of Corrections, 65 percent, or 23,437, self-reported being a parent, the department said.
Five different parenting-specific programs are offered in Louisiana’s state prisons. Malachi Dads began in 2006 with a small group of Angola inmates, with support from local faith leaders and Illinois-based prison ministry nonprofit Awana Lifeline.
A New Orleans native, Gillam was among the first group of Malachi Dads participants. He was sentenced to life in prison for his role in a 1994 murder carried out by his half-brother, a New Orleans police officer.
Gillam was 16 at the time of the murder. He has since become a stepfather to a 14-year-old boy while in prison, and is one of the leaders of Angola’s Malachi Dads. He talks about the responsibility inmates have to regularly call and write their kids who, without parental guidance, could be lost to a life of crime.
“I kind of see us being like the last line of defense,” he says. “I know it’s a mess. I know it’s a dirty job. But guess what, we got to fight. We got to do something … do everything you possibly can to be what you can from where you are.”
Men in the program attend a weekly two-hour meeting. They are given homework, required Bible readings, and a goal of writing to their children at least once a month.
Participants split into small groups, which they call families, with at least one inmate serving as moderator. Discussions follow a textbook curriculum with chapters on nonviolence, sobriety, marital fidelity, and teaching in a “nonthreatening, nondefensive manner.”
On this Monday night, one group talks about how to discipline a child while in prison. The conversation reveals brief glimpses of the physical abuse some men suffered at the hands of their parents.
“Always be a motivator,” says group leader Troy Delone, 38, whose life sentence for armed robbery was commuted in December. “Make sure you discipline from love.”
Some inmates say they didn’t feel like they deserved to be in their kids’ lives when they were first sent to prison. But through the program, they’ve learned to forgive themselves for their mistakes, finding their value as a parent in the process.
“It’s about reconciliation,” Gillam says.
About 800 men have completed the Malachi Dads program at Angola since its inception. It has since spread to 66 prisons in 16 states and two countries.
A similar program targeting mothers was launched in late 2012. Called Hannah’s Gift, the program was developed by Kristi Miller, assistant warden at the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women.
The Hannah’s Gift group on this Tuesday, at 27 women, is smaller than the men’s group, and held at the same time as a parenting class in an adjacent room.
Carolyn Adams, 67, has been part of Hannah’s Gift since its beginning. Her son was 30 when she was sentenced to life in prison for the 2005 murder of her then-boyfriend, a crime she claimed was in self-defense.
“We have a lot of young mothers here, and an extremely high number of mothers who come here and have a baby here,” she says. “Our program is designed to help those mothers get themselves spiritually well … to make them see there is something in them that needs to change to break the cycle, so they can be a good role model for the child.”
This story is part of Family Sentence, a multi-part series on parental incarceration.