Reaching Out With Our Stories

July 15, 2013 | Alisha Murdock, Peer Mentor, Project WHAT!

murdock_head_shot

It was another normal day; I was in the sixth grade and had just woken up. To my surprise the smell of freshly cooked eggs and bacon filled the house. My mom did not normally cook so I was very happy. I sat down at our small kitchen table and began to eat. My mom just looked at me and smiled and said, “I love you, baby.” I said, “I love you too, Mommy.” Then I glanced at the clock and noticed that I was almost late, so I pushed some more food in my mouth, gave my mom a kiss, and ran off to school. She stood at the door and yelled to me, “Be safe, I love you.”

It was another normal day; I was in the sixth grade and had just woken up. To my surprise the smell of freshly cooked eggs and bacon filled the house. My mom did not normally cook so I was very happy. I sat down at our small kitchen table and began to eat. My mom just looked at me and smiled and said, “I love you, baby.” I said, “I love you too, Mommy.” Then I glanced at the clock and noticed that I was almost late, so I pushed some more food in my mouth, gave my mom a kiss, and ran off to school. She stood at the door and yelled to me, “Be safe, I love you.”

I arrived at school right as the bell rang. My second period class, P.E., was my favorite. Right before I went to kick the ball, Coach Brown came to me and told me someone was here to talk to me. It was my neighbor. She said, “Alisha, your mom was arrested today after you left for school and she is in jail. I have to take you home to pack the apartment.” My eyes started to water, but I quickly sucked it up because I was always told “Tears are a sign of weakness.” I simply said, “Okay,” and we were on our way home.

When I got to the house, the door was smashed in and the living room was destroyed. My room was a mess, Mom’s room was horrible, and everything was everywhere. My mom’s mattress looked like it had been attacked by an angry dog. I fell to the floor and stared blankly at the walls. My neighbor asked if I wanted her to stay, but I said, “No.” I felt this was not her mess to clean up; I was not my neighbor’s responsibility. It was not her job to fix my mother’s mistakes.

I knew that I was going to have to leave the apartment sooner or later, so I packed stuff up, grabbed what I needed, and left. With nowhere to go to, the first night was the hardest. I slept in a park close by the school so that I wouldn’t be late the next morning.

After the first night in the park, I bounced from friend’s house to friend’s house. I ended up moving in with one of my closest friend’s cousins. I was 12 years old the first time my mom was arrested, and I was left alone without any support. For so many years, I felt ashamed and alone. I had no one to talk to about my situation and was worried that people would judge me because of my mom’s incarceration, until I found Project We’re Here and Talking (WHAT!).   

Project WHAT! is a youth-led program of Community Works in Oakland. Our two main goals are raising awareness about children with incarcerated parents and improving the services and policies that affect us. When I found this program, I couldn’t believe that something like this existed. Project WHAT! has been working on behalf of children of incarcerated parents since 2006 and has delivered nearly 140  trainings to 6,500 people in 14 counties throughout California and seven other states. I’m proud to say I’ve been a part of the program since June 2011.

Although the main goal of Project WHAT! is to raise awareness about children with incarcerated parents, one of its biggest impacts has been giving us, children with incarcerated parents, the courage, support, and strength to tell our story. I and most, if not all of my peers at Project WHAT!, had never had a chance to tell our story before joining the program, and we had no idea that people wanted to hear it. Project WHAT! has offered us a healthy way to process our pain, and transform it into a powerful tool not only to help ourselves, but to help others as we share our experience.

The audiences we present to range from social workers, judges, teacher, incarcerated parents, and other youth. Every time I present to youth I know I am making a difference in their lives because hearing another young person’s story lets them know that no matter what they’re going through they’re not alone. As children of incarcerated parents, we know what it’s like to feel alone or to feel like no one understands. If, after presenting to other young people, I can help them know that they are not alone, I know I have made a difference.

Through Project WHAT! and the connections I’ve made with the San Francisco Children of Incarcerated Parents Partnership, I was able to attend the Champions of Change awards ceremony at the White House to honor 12 people who were being recognized for their work on behalf of children with incarcerated parents. I was amazed to meet so many people doing work all over the United States, and even more amazed to know that the White House was not only recognizing their work, but was also recognizing that children with incarcerated parents exist. I’m proud to say that the 12-year-old child who was left alone to care for myself during my mom’s incarceration is now a 21-year-old advocate who is part of a nationwide movement to improve outcomes for children with incarcerated parents.

I want people to know that children with incarcerated parents are fighters, and more than anything else we are determined to not let our parents’ choices dictate our futures. We have a voice and are determined to use it in a positive way. As one of my favorite poets, Daniel Beaty, says in his poem “Knock, Knock” about his father’s incarceration:

                Yes, we are our fathers’ sons and daughters,
                But we are not their choices.
                For despite their absences,
                We are still here,
                Still alive,
                Still breathing,
                With the power to change this world
                One little boy and girl at a time.

                Knock knock,

                Who’s there?

                We are.

 

Alisha Murdock is 21 years old and is a peer mentor with Project WHAT!. Project WHAT! has become a peer support group for Alisha and has introduced her to a passion for advocacy that she did not know she had, and now plans to pursue.