Amanda cried as police officers handcuffed her father and took him away on drug charges. She was 8. To Amanda, he was the most trusted person in the world - strong, understanding, dedicated and quick to shower her with designer shoes and jeans.

His going to prison ended that. Today, Amanda suffers from anxiety. She has trouble in school. She runs away from her mother’s home. She has been arrested for fighting.

Even so, Amanda is pleasantly sunny. She dreams of finishing her alternative high school, going to college, and, one day, becoming a surgeon. She is the oldest of four children. She wears long braids, a radiant smile, and still loves her dad.

“I’ve been looking forward to coming here for many weeks. I really miss him.

We caught up on a lot of family stuff. I told him about my mother, my cousins and my step-dad. I did a lot of talking.

I haven’t seen him in a while. He looks good. He used to be fat when he was younger. But he’s lost a lot of weight in here. We all used to love to eat. He used to make some really spicy wings. They were so good.

It’s not easy being home without your daddy. I like being here with him, but I’d rather him be at home. But he won’t be home for a while. At least another four-and-a-half years. We’re going to try and stay closer connected. I’ll visit more and he’ll try calling me.

He’s been gone for so long. It’s not fair. He’s got kids and family.”





“There’s so much going on with family and stuff, and with boys whispering in your ear. I just stopped focusing on school.

I’m much better at writing than math. I used to keep a dairy and write about my feelings. But I threw it out because I didn’t want my mom to see it. She’s nosy. There’s bad stuff in there.

My dad was the only one who could control me. But he doesn’t know much about me now. It’s sad and depressing. I find myself stressing out about it. It’s got a lot to do with the way I was raised.

My mom made up her mind not to see my dad again. He was far away, and it was too much in gas to see him. She told me she never liked my dad even when she got pregnant with me. That made me feel bad. I’m daddy’s girl. I worship the ground he walks on. My mom doesn’t have a school education. She dropped out when she was in the 11th grade. She values education, though. But I taught her how to read. As for my father, I don’t know much about him. I don’t know if he ever finished school.

I was once an A-B student with perfect attendance. I had all kinds of certificates. What happened to those days? I’m an intelligent person. But I don’t put an effort onto studying.”
Journalist Leon Fooksman chronicles the lives of children in the Service Network for Children of Inmates organization in the Miami area. Listen, as they rebuild connections with their parents in prison, as they work to stay on track in school, and as they focus on healing from the trauma of families separated by the crimes of their parents.

Note: The names of the children in this blog have been changed to prevent them from being stigmatized. These stories are edited transcripts of lengthy conversations with the children.