Who pays the price of prison? Those on the inside suffer, while families and children who remain outside are collateral damage. Each year, around 312,000 children are separated from their parents by parental imprisonment [1]. The impact on these children can be both devastating and long-lasting, often continuing to adversely affect their well-being and life-chances well into adulthood. They are paying the price of prison.
Shockingly, even very young children frequently experience at first hand the frightening mechanics of arrest. Up to 80,000 children each year are witness to a home raid by police [2]. The charity Children Heard and Seen provide an expressive example of how this may feel to the children involved. Rebecca describes her father’s arrest at their home when she was eleven years old as follows:
There was shouting and screaming, and they pepper-sprayed my dad. The pepper spray went everywhere… So all of us kids had it on our hands and in our eyes… They tasered him at the same time.
One of our own Open Justice members described to us the terror felt by her very young grandchildren as the police shoulder-barged the door to her home, handcuffed her wrists and dragged her out to the waiting car.
Not all children involved in parental arrest or imprisonment experience such acute and violent trauma. But the more "subtle" long-term impacts can be equally devastating. This is disproportionately true for those children whose mothers are imprisoned. The majority (66%) of women in prison are mothers of dependent children [3] and the number of children affected is increasing as more and more women are incarcerated.
When men are imprisoned their children, in general, continue to be cared for by a female partner or relative. In contrast, only 5% of those children whose mothers are incarcerated remain in the family home [4]. Older children of imprisoned mothers often become young carers for their siblings, which inevitably impacts on their social and emotional wellbeing as well as on their educational attainment and other life opportunities. Regardless of whether it is a mother or father who is taken to prison, the adverse outcomes of parental imprisonment experienced by children include:
• Stigma
• Loneliness and social isolation
• Heightened risk of self-harm and suicidal behaviours
• Poorer academic performance
• Poor physical and mental health
• Behavioural and conduct disorders
• Severe anxiety
• Developmental delay
• Difficulties re-establishing attachment once the parent returns
The above issues are widely recognised within the Criminal Justice System and have been seen as conflicting with a child’s rights under Article 8 of the European Convention of Human Rights. As a consequence, sentencing courts are required to obtain information on dependent children and to weigh their rights against the seriousness of the offence of which a parent is accused. Unfortunately, research by the Howard League [5] suggests that in practice this essential balancing exercise is rarely carried out.
'Mummy, I'm not okay':
a conversation with Open Justice
Mother and daughter Nicole and Laila* know first-hand the cost of this judicial oversight. When Nicole was arrested in 2017, Laila was a baby. There were ten police officers in their home, and a one year old child.
Open Justice's Karine met Nicole inside and they reconnected recently. She spoke to mother and daughter about their experience of the CJS and their reunion after imprisonment. Their conversations are a moving and direct testimony to the pain of separation and the importance of keeping families together.
Karine: I met you in prison, working on crafting and crocheting for the WI which would sell on my products to buy more materials. You were the biggest customer there - you actually left the prison with bags and bags of different crafts for your daughter. So that's how we clicked - because you eventually asked me to teach you some crafting. And you were collecting all these items for your daughter, right?
Nicole: Yes, you know me through craft and stuff. You knew I had a child. I mean, I may be wrong, but I feel like maybe, you know, it was a bit comforting for you to know that you wasn't the only mum. And even though your daughter was older, how you were feeling was how every moment there I was feeling. Regardless of the age, I think we still share the same pain. So I went to craft because, remember, you was intrigued about the earrings that I had in, you know, so we had that. We use the prison and that's how we used the prison. That's what I think anyway, you know, we use those tools to make things for our children, and, remember, I said to you, I want to learn how to do it all because I wanna make stuff for my daughter. I wanna pack a whole bag and I did. You know, I packed a whole bag. I've got rare stuff, you know.
K: We got in touch when I came out and it turned out you were just a few bus stops away from me. So you came with Laila and she was absolutely delightful and I - I just enjoyed our friendship... So, that’s how it started. And then I visited you in your flat and I saw all these crafts that we had made – they were actually all there. A little bit of a clutter but they have a history and so it was this very, very emotional moment: there was a link between that dark time and the light at the end of the tunnel.
N: I'm going to give you some dates, right? My daughter’s birthday is coming up… she was born on 12th March 2016. Seven weeks early and she weighed 3 pounds 10. By 9th February 2017, I got arrested for suspicion of importation of a Class A drug - bearing in mind I had never left the country. On 12th March 2017 I celebrated her first birthday. My trial lasted ten weeks, which meant that I had to find somewhere for my daughter to go from morning to night. It was like a full time job without getting paid. In those ten weeks Laila got into the habit of not having me around 24/7, even though she was only like 15/16 months at the time. I mean, she got used to my absence, which was quite healthy at the time, as far as I was concerned, but it still had… It still didn't change the impact on her, of not having her mum.
K: And the arrest?
N: When I got arrested, it was 6 o'clock in the morning - and then a knock on my door. There was ten of them. There was ten officers against myself and like a one year old child. And I remember I had to call my mum and she had to leave work. And she had just got to work. And I said, like, the police are here and they have said they’re coming to arrest me for suspicion… she had to come back and I'll never forget she came and she took Laila and I went to the police station and I was charged and I was still oblivious to what was going on but…they let me go on bail. And to return to the police station basically to be charged. I wasn't charged straight away, I was just arrested and I was given Campbell conditions, very strict bail conditions, and my passport was seized.
The verdict - that was quite painful. You know, going to court every day for a week. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I remember the morning that I got found guilty… The night before Laila was misbehaving and she was just doing a lot that she just doesn't normally do. And I was like, I'm not gonna get upset, you know, I'm not gonna tell her… I'm just gonna leave her. So, I did. I kinda just left her and that just was, you know, Lord, terrible…. Whatever.
The next morning I got up to pack a bag for her. This time Laila was at my cousin’s house, which was not far from mine. All the money that I had in my house, I put in my purse. And I took all my cards with me. I took everything… all my ID, I put it all in my bag. And, I'll never forget, I went downstairs… I had my mum's car at the time… and I put all of the stuff in the car and I hid the car keys under the seat and I went on a bus. I went to court. Nobody was at court. So I kinda just did that by myself.
Fast forward to the first visit… that was so scary ‘cause I just thought she'd forgot who I was. I was like, you know, I was asking about 'remember, what's my name?' She said 'Mummy, I'm not okay'. You know, that was quite hard.
K: What does she recall now about that time?
At this point, Laila joined the discussion herself. Nicole's first question was: "What are prisons for?" We invite you to listen to their full conversation here:
Nicole and Laila's story is one of thousands in the UK. The level of trauma experienced by the children, and the wider family, of women who are imprisoned will vary. The question is whether it is necessary, justifiable and helpful in the cause of crime prevention. 72% of women in prison have been convicted of non-violent offences [6]. Even the Government's own analysis has emphasised the need for 'fewer women in custody (especially on short-term sentences)' [7]. Why then are we continuing to traumatise thousands of children every year?
Please write to us at contact@openjusticeinitiative.com with your own views.
* Names have been changed to protect the identity of participants.
[1] Estimate provided by criminal justice consultancy Crest Advisory
[2] Centre for Social Justice, March 2022
[3] Estimate provided by the Howard League for Penal Reform
[4] Home Office (2007),The Corston Report
[5] Epstein, R. (2014), Mothers in prison: The sentencing of mothers and the rights of the child
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