I've traveled the world as a writer and an activist
for my entire life.
What we are talking about is a revolution.
We are the women that our parents warned us about.
And I can tell you that by confronting the problems
once marginalized as "women's issues,"
we can tackle the greatest dangers
of the 21st century.
Behind every major crisis,
there's an unseen factor at play,
a story you've never been told.
The greatest indicator of the world's stability,
wealth, and safety is the status of women.
The United States locks up more women
than any other nation in the world,
with over 200,000 behind bars.
75% of those inmates are mothers
and the primary caregivers to their children.
Love you, baby! Love you!
The trauma this separation creates
for both mother and child ripples for generations,
fueling a self-perpetuating cycle
that for millions is nearly impossible to escape.
Bye, Mom!
Love you.
Mom, it's Erika.
Go get in the truck, baby.
Bye, Mama!
I'm on my way to speak with several formerly
and currently incarcerated women who have one thing in common --
They're all moms.
I think that whether your parent is a criminal or not,
it doesn't stop them being your parent.
You know, you still love them,
regardless of the crimes they've committed,
and ultimately, you still need a mom.
Smile for the camera.
Hi, baby.
Hi, Mom.
The first time I've ever hugged...
Right?
For Chacha, seeing her oldest son, Raphael,
on visitation days is the 1 hour a week
that she can feel like a mom again.
Let me see them muscles.
No.
You didn't tell me you was coming yesterday.
Nah, it's sort of a surprise.
I know.
How do you cope
with trying to be a parent when you're here?
That's hard.
Yeah.
Basically, when you're in here,
I feel like you can't do nothing.
The only thing you can do
is just call them
or see them in the visit, you know.
But there's nothing you could do
while you're in here.
I have -- My 15-year-old's incarcerated right now
'cause he ran away.
He has to do 3 months in a juvenile detention center.
I feel like they're acting out,
because I'm not around.
So Raphael is actually trying to be his caretaker, you know.
It worries me.
I just -- I feel like
I've forced him to be a parent.
Yeah.
Like nearly 30,000 other women currently behind bars,
Chacha was sent to prison for a nonviolent drug offense.
For the past 6 years of my life,
I've had an addiction,
and I was selling drugs.
And I got caught.
Since 1980,
the female prison population
has increased 800 percent.
2/3 of women behind bars are there for nonviolent,
mostly drug-related offenses.
Even though these drug violations are often minor,
women are at the mercy of harsh criminal justice policies
built over the last 30 years.
America's public enemy number one is drug abuse.
In order to fight and defeat this enemy,
it is necessary to wage a new, all-out offensive.
We entered an era in America
where our politicians started competing with each other
over who can be the toughest on crime.
Today marks a major victory in our crusade against drugs.
A package to toughen sentences,
beef up law enforcement, and build new prison space.
If you go back on drugs, then you have to go back to jail.
Bryan Stevenson, a law professor and social-justice activist,
explains how this tough-on-crime culture
landed us where we are today.
We made the choice to deal with drug addiction
as a crime issue rather than a health issue,
and that has targeted many women.
Most of these women
would not have been sent to jail or prison 40 years ago.
We're sending them there now
because we have mandatory sentencing laws,
because we have these ridiculous drug laws
that criminalize people
because of their addiction or their dependency,
and because we are indifferent
to the context, the stories behind the crimes
that get people arrested and prosecuted.
What impact do you think it has on society as a whole
when you lock up the matriarch of the family?
Children who grow up without a primary loving relationship
are children who are going to end up in really chaotic,
stressful, often violent lives.
And the child of mothers in prison
are significantly more likely to end up in jails and prisons
than the child -- the children of men.
So it has long-term generational consequences
to put so many women in jails and prisons.
It's this cycle of incarceration
that weighs so heavily on Chacha's mind.
In fact, her own mom was in prison
for much of her childhood.
I lost my mom to the drugs.
So, um...
It must be frustrating and heartbreaking for you
Yes. to see that, like, textbook-wise...
...you were meant to end up here.
I never understood why my mom couldn't get it together for us.
But now I do, because I went through it.
Yeah.
And I worry about it.
That's why I feel like it has to stop here because,
like, my 17-year-old,
I'm scared that he's gonna end up in jail again.
I know he's out there doing things he shouldn't.
Right, and do you think it's 'cause -- And I worry about him a lot.
I'm scared that he's gonna take the same path as me.
Today, one in 25 female inmates
in state prison is pregnant when she is locked up.
A vast majority of these women have their babies taken away
and put into the foster-care system
almost immediately after birth.
Jessica Venegas was one of them.
Are you ready to get up?
Spin? Yeah.
Are you sure? Three times.
Three times?
How many is three? Show me.
No!
My parents sold drugs out of the house.
So we saw that growing up.
By the time she was a teenager,
Jessica was using drugs and became addicted.
When I had my daughter years later, I was, like, you know,
I can't just keep letting this be all right, you know?
It's not all right for her anymore.
It's not all right for me.
And... I tried to move away, but it was hard.
I was by myself.
And so what happened?
Like, what was the lead-up to go into Rikers?
I had just got my eldest daughter from school.
I dropped her back home and said, "I'll be right back."
And I went to go buy drugs, and I got arrested.
And I didn't come right home.
So, she was pretty devastated behind that.
But leaving Angelica alone wasn't Jessica's only problem.
At the time of her arrest, she was 7 months pregnant
with her second child, Jasmine.
And on her third day in police custody,
her water broke.
I ended up having emergency C-section.
I just remember waking up in so much pain
and... them putting those shackles on my ankles.
New York State banned the shackling
of pregnant inmates in 2009.
But 2 years after that policy went into effect,
Jessica found herself chained to a hospital bed,
in clear violation of the law.
I spent 5 days in the hospital
handcuffed to a bed in massive pain
from the C-section.
I didn't know where I was.
And then, they told me, you know,
that she was okay.
And then what happened after this?
I had a fight with them to see her
and have visitation with my baby in the ICU unit.
I'm here on a drug charge.
I just want to see my baby. I'm not gonna harm anybody.
So... that was hard.
Do you feel like you missed out on that?
Yeah. Yeah.
I can't, you know, get those hours back.
Yeah.
I didn't even get to feed her, you know,
and do those things that you want to do
when you first have a baby --
you know, that bond
and... nurture your child.
Afterwards, the social worker came,
and they were like, you know,
"Unfortunately, she is gonna go straight into the system
since she was born with drugs in her system."
So they didn't even really give me a chance
to have my family intervene at that point.
I want to have a cookie.
Ooh! Ooh!
When I spoke with Dr. Carlton Payne,
the chief psychologist of the Philadelphia Prison System,
he explained the effects of this kind of separation.
The children move
from multiple caretakers to multiple living situations.
So they become devastated,
because they have what is called a detachment disorder.
They can't attach to anybody because Mom is not there.
So they have so many different caretakers,
they don't feel safe anywhere.
In fact, separation from the mother
can actually affect the hormone levels
in a child's brain, leading to irreversible changes.
Now your entire brain chemistry is different.
Now you're in survival mode.
Consequently, they do worse in school.
They have more societal issues.
They have more anger problems.
And they are seven times more likely
to be incarcerated themselves.
- Chicken soup? - Yes!
Jazzy, Savannah.
I'm not -- I'm sorry. I ate.
You ate? Yeah.
With odds like that, it's no wonder
this generational repetition is so hard to defeat.
Yummy?
All right.
Hi.
Three weeks after Jessica Venegas
gave birth in police custody,
her charges were dropped, and she was released.
But to get custody of her newborn baby,
she had to enter rehab for a year
and give up her older daughter, Angelica.
Eventually, they were all reunited,
and now they live together at Hour Children,
a home for formerly incarcerated moms.
Have a great day. Have a good day.
Hey, Mr. Bus Driver with the funny hair.
You're right -- he does.
Wow.
It's a little silly, right? He seems nice.
No, he seems nice.
Don't follow me on the bus.
- We're coming with you. - Have a good day.
Have a good day.
Bye!
I love you!
Aww.
You feel like she's happy?
Yeah.
She's a happy kid.
Angelica's very -- especially from --
from all that she's been through.
She'll tell you that.
She felt like I left her one day, you know.
I just left her and never came back when I got arrested.
So I can understand her sense of abandonment and --
You know, sometimes when I go out now, she's like,
you know, "Why do you have to go out?
Are you really gonna come back?
What if you don't come back?"
I'm like, "I'm gonna come back."
No, but, like, now she just always
has in the back of her mind,
like, you never know.
You know, 'cause "I've seen you not come home."
How was school?
Yeah?
Even though Angelica and her mother are back together,
the trauma of the separation
clearly had a profound effect on their lives and relationship.
Okay, cool.
So, tell me -- you haven't always --
You haven't been with your mom the whole time, have you?
No, I haven't.
Where were you before?
I was living with my aunt.
Where would you prefer being? With her.
You prefer living with your aunt? Yeah.
I don't know why, but there's, like, a special connection.
Do you not feel like you've got that with your mom?
No, I know I do, but I don't feel it as much.
Angelica also has to deal with the stigma
of having a mother who was incarcerated.
And that feeling of shame can lead to anxiety and depression.
Did you feel like you had to grow up a lot real quick?
Yeah. So, that's when I started playing games a lot more.
Like, I used to never play games,
but now I'm on the game every day for maybe two hours.
Yeah? Do you talk to other kids?
No. No?
No.
I'm not a social person.
Why do you think that is?
Why do you think you're not social?
I don't know.
I feel like I'm not a person as people think that I am.
I mean, I'm possibly maybe the quietest kid on the bus.
I usually just sit down and read this book.
Yeah? Yeah.
But that'll really be it.
I usually make sure that I always, like,
have a book with me, and if not,
I'll probably just maybe do my homework or something.
Even though Jessica never went to prison after her arrest,
it's obvious that her time in police custody
had serious consequences for her and her kids.
But there are some stories that inspire hope
in a system that tears so many families apart.
She's off!
This is Crystal Degnitz,
and this is her 15-month-old baby, Oliviana.
They both live here
at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women.
Like the other inmates I met, it was a drug addiction
that landed Crystal where she is today.
I didn't start using drugs
until after I had my older three kids.
What originally happened
was I went to a doctor who gave me pain medication.
And the first time I took it, it helped me be able to clean,
and I felt like I could take so much better care of them.
I started going to multiple doctors
to get more and more.
And then when that wasn't enough,
that's when it turned to the street drugs.
In 2014, Crystal was arrested
for stealing to support her habit
and sentenced to 2 years in prison.
And I found out I was pregnant
when I was incarcerated.
So, um... it's just a huge shock.
Yeah.
That August, Crystal gave birth
in a nearby hospital to Oliviana.
But unlike Jessica, Crystal was able to keep her baby,
because Bedford Hills has a prison nursery program --
the first one in the country, created in 1901.
Inmates give birth at a nearby hospital,
and they can live with their babies in the nursery
for up to 18 months.
For Crystal, this was an opportunity
to change her life.
I already have three teenagers.
And I didn't do it right by them.
So I feel like this is, like, my second chance.
It's a chance that most pregnant inmates never get.
Since New York State opened the nursery
at Bedford Hills over a century ago,
only eight states have followed.
I strongly support nursery programs.
It's really good therapy,
rehabilitation incentive for incarcerated people.
If you're living for an infant
or someone you care deeply about,
you don't think about yourself quite as much.
You have to think about other people.
And that makes you a more responsible person.
You're being released tomorrow
for the first time with your baby girl.
How do you feel about that?
I'm a little bit nervous.
It's safe here.
The outside influences I don't have here...
Right. ...are a huge thing.
Right. So it's -- it's nerve wracking.
But I know my priorities are different...
...than they used to be.
Whatever happens,
Crystal has a long and difficult journey ahead.
But this experience of bonding with her baby
in a prison nursery
might be just what she needs to keep her on track.
Hey! Princess!
Hey!
Hi! Say "Hi."
Hi!
Congratulations! Thank you.
She's never seen a car.
Aah! You excited?
Yes. How do you feel?
I didn't sleep. Didn't you?
Not a wink? No. Not at all.
Just tossing and the turning? Yeah.
All right, well, let's get moving.
Let's get all your stuff in.
Okay.
Where are we?
They've got TVs on each side. Yeah.
Hey! My goodness!
Crystal Degnitz and her baby, Oliviana,
are just being released from the prison nursery program
at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility in upstate New York.
To ease her re-entry into society, Crystal
will be living at Hour Children, just like Jessica.
And here you are.
Ooh!
Look!
Oliviana!
A regular bed.
Yeah, we got to change your diaper.
Princess!
It is just the beginning of her journey
and her life on the outside world.
The odds are stacked against her,
but it's gonna be a lot easier
when you have a support structure,
you're with other women that are in the same position as you.
And hopefully, they can all help each other out
and she'll be able to move forward.
Of course.
When we lock up mothers,
their families suffer devastating consequences,
but so does the larger community.
It disrupts the one force
that has helped communities and people survive
the chaos of over-incarceration,
the chaos of generational poverty,
which is a primary loving relationship.
Whoo-hoo! Yeah, baby!
And for most families, that primary loving relationship
is created and sustained by the mother.
And we need to recognize the damage that we are doing
to the hopes and aspirations of whole communities
when we needlessly and unnecessarily put
women and mothers in prisons.
According to Carlton Payne, there are concrete steps
that we can take to break the cycle of incarceration.
How can we keep the next generation
from coming into this facility?
Look at it long-term.
A cost-benefit analysis points out
that drug and alcohol intervention
is much more effective than incarceration.
Because they'll be in jail for a period of time
And then they'll go right back to what they were doing.
And then they'll recidivate.
So if we can have a program for treatment
while they're in their community,
it would bolster their ability to stay in their community.
Right. Yes.
But for the women who are already in prison
and their children, the damage has already been done.
Yeah. I love you.
Love you, too. Just so happy to see you.
Yeah.
I think only thing I can do is just work on me
so that when I get out there, I can help them.
Yeah.
Make sure that I'm okay.
'Cause if I'm not okay I can't help them.
I can't help myself. I can't help them.
What do you think's the number-one thing
that he needs right now?
Me.
Since our report, Chacha is out of prison,
and Jessica and Crystal still live at Hour Children
with their daughters.
In many ways, they are the lucky ones.
They were able to access programs
that so many female inmates can't.
And it's for them -- the tens of thousands
of other incarcerated mothers and their children --
that we must change the current system
if we want any hope
of breaking this terrible cycle of incarceration.
To learn how you can support incarcerated women
and their children,
go to viceland.com/woman.