Parenting From Prison

It’s hard being a parent from prison. Especially realizing the devastating effect the unforeseen consequences my actions had on my children, particularly Nia, who was only 45 days old when I got arrested over 17 years ago.

While my other children experienced “Dad” being home for birthday parties, Disney trips, soccer games and more, Nia was robbed of all those monumental memories.

I’ve worked hard to insure she knows her value as my daughter and as a strong black/Hispanic woman.
I’ve tossed and turned at night, fearing the “Daddy” issues she’d suffer because of my absence.

When we talk, she listens to me and I listen to her.

I always knew my older daughter Alexa would head to college because she was top notch in school and I was super proud when she recently graduated.

But Nia….reminding me so much of myself, I was content with negotiating her promise to graduate high school.
So when Nia told me that she finished writing her college application letter, I was overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. When she told me she received her first college acceptance letter, I’ll admit I was a little surprised.

But I shouldn’t have been.

“Can you please send me this letter you wrote?” I asked Nia, after congratulating her for this achievement.

Dear reader, while sitting at the computer at a level 7 maximum penitentiary, reading Nia’s college letter, I found myself loosing the battle from the flood gate of tears and I cared not who saw.

I would like to share Princess Nia’s college application letter with you.

FROM MY DAUGHTER

Recent estimates show that 2.7 million US children have a parent who is incarcerated. Being a child of that statistic was and still is difficult, yet it doesn’t define me. My father was incarcerated before I was born. People say you can’t miss what you never had, but I never agreed with that. Even though I never spent a “typical day” with my dad I have spoken with him every day on the phone.
I grew up with my mother, grandmother, and older sister. They always told me to not discuss my father’s situation. I remember my mother always telling me, ¨nobody needs to know where your dad really is¨. What I was told about him was that he was a great father. He took in two of my older half-sisters and treated them as his own. To me he is a great father, but in a different way than they experienced. He always listens to me, and gives me fatherly advice. I understand him and he understands me. We have an unbreakable bond. As a little girl holding a big secret like that was hard for me. To see my friend’s fathers pick them up after school attending father-daughter dances and cheering their kids on at the winter concerts year after year. I always had this emptiness in my heart when I would see that because that was something I never experienced. Something I missed out on. Something I can never get back in life. This made me grow up faster. I learned how to deal with my emotions and become resilient no matter how difficult and challenging life is.
During my high school years, it became harder to face all the obstacles in my life not only with my father but being a Hispanic and black teenage girl in a predominantly Caucasian school. In 9th and 10th grade, I started making some decisions that could’ve turned me down a bad path. I started to become friends with people who did not care about my best interests. I was angry at the world I started not to think about the consequences of my actions. I was getting into fights in school, sneaking out and failing my classes, my family was always trying to put me in behavioral programs signing me up for outreach programs and therapy as if I couldn’t control my behavior fearing that I would end up like my dad, what they did not know is that I was acting out because I lost sight to everything that was important to me I guess u can say I was struggling with depression. After all those programs and sessions its started to become tedious and I started to regret making all those bad decisions I had made. As 11 grade started to creep up on me I knew that I needed to rethink how I want my future to unfold, how important it is try hard in school and get good grades because my future depends on it. I’m glad both me and my dad were able to bounce back from all situations no matter how big or how small. He achieved so much great things all while behind bars he is an author, published 2 books which were amazon’s best-selling, and was a mentor to other people who have yet to find their best selves in life. Seeing my father go over all those obstacles made me rethink my obstacles in life, there is always time to turn your life around no matter how difficult things can be, There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. You just have to figure out how to get there. Being accepted into college would really help me discover myself and who I wanna be in this world I want to serve a purpose in my life by helping people as much as I can just like my father is doing while he serves his sentence, and I hope I can do that with the career pursue, I want to make my father proud show him that just because he wasn’t there for me I turned out okay and that I’m doing everything I can to succeed in life the right way. I want to show my family that I am in fact my father’s daughter just like him, I did make mistakes during my 9th and 10th grade but those mistakes do not define me as the person i am today.

Father/Daughter Talks… Priceless!

Dec 8, 2018 at 12:37 PM

The wailing moan of grief and distress from the phone receiver gouged at my heart. 
Weeping tears, sobs of sorrow while gasping from breath between the utterances of half spoken words, making no sense at all, caused my mind to kick into over-drive of worse case scenarios. 

“Is my mother all right?” I asked. 
No cognitive answer, more groaning and sniffles. 

“Sweetheart, calm down, take a deep breath and tell dad what’s wrong.” 
Between another fit of whimpering she managed to utter, ” I just don’t know what to do!!” 
Followed by a renewed lamentation of bawling tears. 

“Do about what, Honey?” I asked, struggling to keep a comforting tone, attempting to suppress the dramatic thoughts racing through my mind. “Please!” I begged to my 14 year old daughter Nia, “Just tell me what’s happen,” triggering another ten minute bout of groaning moans of sobs, giving way to an additional round of tears and sniffles. 

Finally she took the deep controlled breath and announced the cause of this dismal condition, “Blake moved out of state and I didn’t get to say good bye!” she cried and the water works continued. 

Blake the Snake. 
That’s what I called my daughters first little boyfriend. 

He reminded me too much of myself and that isn’t always a good thing. 
Now just like me when I kept getting in trouble in school, he got sent to another state until he got his act together.  
I can’t lie…there was that side of me that was ecstatic!! 

Blake’s little ass was finally outta here!! 
But I kept that to myself, knowing what we adults call puppy love is as real as it gets to my daughter and her broken heart. 

So in comforting daddy mode, I assured her it will be all right, allowed her to cry all she wanted, related to her hurt and pain and attempted to sooth her sadness. 
I’m glad she knows that she can always cry to me and that no matter what she will forever be daddies little girl.

#gangsterturnedgurupresents

#eddiekwright

Open letter to the father I used to be!

Referenced Article:  Father Reportedly Refused To Claim Orlando Shooting Victim’s Body Because He Was Gay.

From: WRIGHT, EDDIE

Jun 26, 2016, 1:06 PM

When I first sat down to write this post, right after reading this article about a father who refused to claim his son’s body after he was killed in the Orlando Massacre at club Pulse, my outrage, anger, and disgust for this father who was causing more hurt and pain to his son’s family and friends was clear in my explicit word expression because…..I was mad as hell.

My blood was boiling as visions of a young mans body, alone in the morgue just waiting for his loved one’s to put him to rest flashed in my minds eye. I was livid and had to step away from what I was writing when I noticed how upset it made me.

I went and got a fresh cup of coffee, collected my thoughts, took a few deep breath as I read over what I originally wrote and then I started over.

I already know that plenty of people are going to post comments expressing their outrage at this fathers actions and more of the same from me wouldn’t help. So by the time I finished my coffee and calmed down, returning to my spiritual center, I realized this is one of those fathers I posted about a few weeks ago who won’t get the chance to heal the relationship with his child.

So now from my Gangster turned Guru perspective, I began to feel sad for this father, and all fathers who couldn’t overcome their own prejudices and fears by learning to love unconditionally. I’m sure this fathers son would rather I use this opportunity to again encourage father’s to reach out to their children and work on healing their relationships. If ever there was a time to offer your parental comfort it’s NOW.

I’ve been the master of bad choices and decisions as a parent, and with my life in general, I can admit and accept that. But when I got over my self-righteous, egotistical, know it all way of thinking, swallowed my macho man pride by letting my son know that I love him unconditionally, weather he’s gay, straight, transgender or what ever… A great peace, joy and happiness was felt within my soul.

I realized that with all my imperfections as a father, my son never stopped loving me even when I didn’t make it easy to be loved.

Each time I send out a post expressing the importance of our parental love, acceptance and support, I do it with the specific intent of reaching that father I used to be. Confused, alone, struggling with accepting what I couldn’t understand and didn’t want to understand. But what I did want was to have the courage to be the type of loving father I promised to be when I first held my son, looking into his eyes, silently letting him know that he could always depend on me. I broke that promise plenty of times, but life gave me another opportunity to live up to it and I try my hardest even in my complex situation.

I’m really trying my hardest now to come up with the right words to write that will wake up these fathers that are actually hurting inside, especially with a heart so cold that it allows a father to leave his child’s body unclaimed. No he doesn’t need another person to scold him for his actions, what he needs is a hug because he’s hurting and suffering from a broken heart.

I speak as a father that went through it and it’s going to eat him from within until he’s healed. It’s harder to do that now that he’s son has moved on but I’m sure that’s what his son would want. There are always opportunities to make amends, the first step is to stop causing more hurt and pain. I said it before and will probably say it a thousand times, making peace with my son by giving him my unconditional loving support to live his life in which ever way makes him happy was one of the best things I could do as a father. I hope others parents have the courage to do the same.

Eddie K. Wright aka Gangster turned Guru.