nonprofit organization Archives - Page 2 of 3

Poetic Justice: Giving Incarcerated Women Hope and a Voice

I think many of us have suspected all along that English teachers change the world. You often meet people in that profession who have a certain passion for making a difference in the lives of their students. Sometimes, though, you meet one who really goes above and beyond the call of duty. Ellen Stackable, co-founder of the nonprofit Poetic Justice, is without a doubt among them. Her organization, which turned 7 this past March, brings creative writing classes to women in prison – but it’s so much more than what that simple sentence conveys. Poetic Justice offers a safe space for women who have never had the benefit of a safe space, and gives them room to work through trauma on their own terms and discover just how much they are worth as human beings.

“How Can This Be?”

Ellen Stackable, who has been an English teacher for more than 20 years, grew up knowing the power of stories and that the world isn’t always a fair place. She grew up in Colorado, where according to her, “my mother was a school social worker in some of the worst schools in Denver, and she would come home and just tell stories about it, so I think I just grew up hard-wired for social justice because of her.”

Ellen Stackabe holding multiple packets — *Ellen Stackable, co-founder of Poetic Justice, delivering distance education packets to Creek County Jail.*

Stackable herself would go on to teach creative writing and literature, but did not forget the lessons of her mother. The written word was a way to bring change to people from within, and eventually she would decide to find a way to bring creativity and social justice together. According to Stackable, “I’ve always felt really strongly that writing is a powerful outlet and tool for healing and processing. So when I was working on my masters degree, I ended up down this rabbit hole of research about incarcerated women in Oklahoma, and not growing up here, I was just aghast…The more I read, the more I found out, the more I thought, ‘How can this be?’”

What she found out was that her adopted state of Oklahoma has the highest rate of female incarceration in the country; in fact, the state incarceration rate for females currently stands at 157 of every 100,000 inhabitants, which far exceeds the national average of 57 people incarcerated for every 100,000 members of the population. Native women are incarcerated at triple the rate, and African American women at double the rate of the population.

But, for Stackable, it’s not just about the astronomical numbers of women being put behind bars in one state. It’s about our cultural expectations of women, especially certain women, and how gender can play a part in enforcing certain laws. “If you’re poor and from a small town, you’re at a huge disadvantage. You are much more likely to get a harsher sentence and to be sentenced…I think it’s probably a series of complex cultural expectations for women…it just seems like in general people are more forgiving of men who are felons than they are women. Kind of like a woman should know better.”

Stackable cited some fascinating and disturbing examples of how she has seen the law applied to certain women. Not only does she point out that the women Poetic Justice works with – and women in prison in general – are often living with childhood trauma and “a lot of times the charge they have is not even something they have done, but someone they’re with has done it,” but the laws seem to be enforced in a very gendered way.

For example, one 19-year-old woman was sentenced to 30 years in prison in Oklahoma for “failure to protect” her child from the abuse of her partner, while her partner was sentenced to only 2 years. In another instance, a woman was pulled over and, because she didn’t have her children in carseats, was told should could either go to county jail for 30 days on the spot and lose her children in the process, or face an uncertain outcome at a trial; she chose not to give up her children and ended up with a felony child abuse charge.

So where can we even start when it comes to these distressing statistics and stories? For Stackable, after going down her “rabbit hole of research,” “I started thinking, well, maybe I could do something. I started looking for a way in.”

“It Takes Tremendous Courage to Tear Open That Scar”

Ellen Stackable eventually found her “way in”: “I finally ended up… [working] with a spoken word poet at the Tulsa County Jail, that’s kind of how we started.” Stackable and her poet partner led spoken word poetry classes, but eventually Stackable would transition to classes in what she calls more “therapeutic and restorative writing.” According to her, “I think spoken word is very powerful, but it’s also kind of like shaking up a bottle of soda and releasing it. It’s fine if you’re there to help pick up the pieces later on. But we really felt like we needed to offer more, almost like, think about the bumpers on a crib! How could we help them so that when we’re not there they could still process.”

women in orange jumpsuits sitting in an open circle — *“We sit in a circle, they make the rules for making it a safe space, and we write with them when they write.”*

What Stackable really wanted was to move away from the more “confrontational” spoken word performances and move to classes that felt “welcoming,” where the women write their pieces, share by choice, and then ask for either questions, comments, or just silence. “Everything we do has what educators call ‘the hidden curriculum.’ So there’s the curriculum, and that’s the outside part of what you’re going to do in the classroom, and the hidden curriculum, it’s kind of like an iceberg, it’s bigger underneath than it is on top. And our hidden curriculum is that everything we do from the moment we walk in to the moment we leave has this message of you are a person of worth and you matter in this world.”

While, as of my time speaking with Ellen Stackable, the program is still operating remotely due to the coronavirus pandemic and restrictions on volunteers entering prisons, when in-person classes are up and running, they are not, as Stackable says, like “a normal class.” “We go in as facilitators, we don’t call ourselves teachers, and the idea is to really kind of demolish the hierarchy that the women have always been at the bottom of. So we sit in a circle, they make the rules for making it a safe space, and we write with them when they write. It’s really an exploration. We use poetry because there’s no rules to poetry and it’s so forgiving. It’s like group therapy….I think it takes tremendous courage for them to go back into their pasts because almost all of them have very traumatic childhoods, and to go back, and in a sense tear open that scar to find healing, I think takes a lot of courage.”

“Hope, Voice, Change”

For each class, Poetic Justice gives the participants both an entrance survey to get a sense of who they are and what they want out of the class, and an exit survey to see how the class affected them, as well as how they felt about the class and if there is anything that could be improved. The first thing that Stackable found from the exit surveys was that the women all wanted more classes!

two women in gray clothes writing on a piece of paper. — *Poetic Justice gives the participants an entrance survey to get a sense of who they are and what they want out of the class.*

And it’s no wonder: the program seems to have an extraordinarily positive affect on their lives. They are instilled with a sense of agency that perhaps many of them had been denied in earlier life. They end each class in a circle, holding hands and repeating “I have a voice, I have hope, I have the power to change,” and they end each 8-week session with a booklet of all of the participants’ poems, a graduation certificate, and the words “Now you’re a published poet.”

The difference in the participants’ lives is actually visible and measurable: Stackable has been working with the Book Research Center in Oklahoma to use her entrance and exit surveys to measure the increase in “hope, agency and positive affect” that Poetic Justice has. And, according to Stackable, “We see a significant change in the end…in so many ways. We see them go on to further education, they finish their GEDs or even go on to do college classes. We see them reuniting with their families, by sending them letters and actually telling them, ‘I’m doing something that matters now. I published these poems.’ We see them become leaders within the prison for good. They are becoming tutors in the GED program…when we’re in the county jail, where women come and go a lot, what the correctional officers tell is us is that ‘It’s always calmer when Poetic Justice comes!’”

Stackable gave a powerful example of one of her students who has been part of the classes from the beginning. Jax, a gifted writer, is serving a life sentence, but has chosen to dedicate herself to the other women she is serving her time with. For example, after learning the story of Cody, a fellow prisoner who had been blinded by her father, and who wanted to get her GED but was told she couldn’t because of her blindness, Jax got to work. She didn’t just tutor Cody, she taught herself Braille to make her study cards, and made Cody an abacus when she was told she couldn’t have a speaking calculator for the test. Cody went on to pass with flying colors, with some of the highest scores in the prison.

“I’m Not Going to Give Up”

While the work that Poetic Justice is doing is amazing and hopeful – they have reached over 3,000 women in Oklahoma and now California, and they currently serve 15% of Oklahoma’s female prison population, Stackable knows going up against the prison system is an uphill battle. She feels that the correctional system is “fundamentally broken” and “isn’t out there to correct people,” and should be focusing more on dealing with mental health issues and drug rehabilitation, instead of separating women from their children.

As Stackable pointed out, “I think being in prison is really hard, and I think reentering society is really hard..it’s an unusual person who can succeed.” But the women that Stackable and Poetic Justice’s volunteers reach, and who spend those 8 weeks repeating the words “I have a voice, I have hope, I have the power to change” are given “a sense that they matter…and if you can have those 3 things [hope, a voice, a feeling like you can change] when you walk out the door, then you are 10 steps ahead of most people who leave prison. We are not the end all be all for reentry but what we do makes a difference in everything they choose to do. To have a sense that your voice matters and that you are a person of worth and you can express yourself in both writing and speaking, are super powerful. We’ve had input from the parole board, they say when your women come up before us they’re more eloquent than anyone else we talk to.”As of this writing, Poetic Justice is continuing on, despite restrictions to having volunteers in prisons, and has paired over 300 women (as opposed to the 60 they can reach in-person) with “writing partners” who exchange writing through good old fashioned snail mail. But Stackable is hopeful that they will be reentering prisons for in-person classes soon, although she would like to continue the distance learning aspect. She has discovered that some women are more likely to participate in the remote program because they just wouldn’t feel comfortable in a class setting. “You know, it’s kind of like when you’re in middle school, and you walk into a class and you’re like, oh my gosh, I can’t believe that person’s here! That’s amplified exponentially in prison.”

Feedback for the remote program has been very positive, with the participants making it clear that it has helped with their mental health and has given them the sense that “someone on the outside actually cares about them.” This has been incredibly important over the past year, as, according to Stackable, “They feel more acutely anything happening in the country, they feel a lack of control and wonder ‘Does anyone care about us?’”

The women that Ellen Stackable and Poetic Justice work with know that there are people out there who do care, but, more than that, the program allows them space to explore how they can care for themselves. And whatever happens, Stackable is going to keep going and keep making a difference, despite what can seem like insurmountable odds. “I think about the people that I love on the inside [of prison], I have a couple that call me every week, you know I just can’t go too much into all that is broken or I would give up. And I’m not going to give up.” If you want to help, go to Poetic Justice’s website, and consider providing a scholarship to one of their participants.

Superbands: How Supporting Mental Health Can Be Music to Your Ears

Trends in music come and go, but some things never change. Kids will always find ways to be cruel to each other, it will always be tough to be a teenager, and music will always have the power to heal and bring us together. Jessica Villa Sikora, founder of the nonprofit and online community Superbands, can attest to all of those things. When she was in her darkest places as an adolescent and young adult, she turned to music and the community surrounding it to heal her – and now she is trying to help young people in similar positions.

picture of jessica villa holding a cup of coffee up to her face — *Founder of Superbands, Jessica Villa*

“I Felt So Lost, Helpless, and Alone”

Everyone has been a middle schooler, so it is easy to understand the beginning of Jessica Villa Sikora’s story. When asked about the origins of her nonprofit, which seeks to support young people struggling with mental health issues, she paused, and laughed: “Well, middle school and high school girls are, um, quite mean.”

What she can look back and laugh at now was deadly serious at the time, though. She – like many of us – felt like she didn’t fit in at a new school, was shy and anxious, and was bullied mercilessly. She faced feelings of inadequacy, compounded by feelings of ingratitude to her immigrant parents, whom she felt had sacrificed so much for her to have a comfortable life in the US. For their part, they didn’t understand her struggle, and Sikora felt like she couldn’t talk to them about the bullying or the depression that was beginning to cloud her life. And so her downward spiral began.

What you might also recognize about Sikora’s story, unfortunately, is where her story goes next. Not only is bullying all too common – about 1 in 5 students report being bullied – but so are the mental health issues that Sikora began to experience as a young teenager. Almost 17% of young people aged 6 -17 – or 1 in 6 – experience mental health disorders, and that is just the number of people who are diagnosed. Among those, only around 50% receive treatment, and the average delay between the onset of mental health symptoms and treatment is 11 years. For many, help can come too late.

Depressed and anxious, Sikora began self-harming and attempting suicide before she even hit the age of 18. “I felt so lost, helpless, and alone,” she said, “and I didn’t know what I could do to ‘make myself better’.” Like many young people facing mental health issues, she was afraid to speak out, and was among the number who go undiagnosed and slip through the cracks. “My parents didn’t want to ‘waste’ money on therapy,” she said. But luckily, Sikora had something to lean on, something that became a way to “cope with my inner demons”: music. She found strength in a feeling of community, and eventually, within herself, and things began to turn around.

when words fail, music speaks written in front of a guitar piece — *“I pulled myself out of my depression based on looking forward to things, and on seeing the friends I made at concerts.”*

“It Was My Safe Place, My Escape”

Jessica Villa Sikora feels lucky that, despite her lack of support and treatment, she was able to pull herself out of all that, as she says. She’s very lucky, indeed. Sikora could have ended up another terrifying statistic: suicide is the second leading cause of death among Americans aged 10 – 34. So what helped her? “There was one thing I relied heavily on every moment I wasn’t in school – one thing that my parents would spend money on,” said Sikora. That thing was music.

Every day at school for Sikora was “a countdown to the next concert, the next album release. I pulled myself out of [my depression] based on looking forward to things, and on seeing the friends I made at concerts.” She found a community of “other weird Jonas Brothers [her favorite band] girls,” and the “weird” girls sitting next to her went from being “people I didn’t even know” to lifelong friends, who gave her a sense of belonging and have remained in her life – she’s even gone to their weddings.

So where does her story go from there? To a place we can only hope that it goes for any young person struggling with mental health issues. The quiet, bullied girl who had found community in music also began to find strength in herself. “By senior year [of high school], the girls who bullied me kind of grew up. I went to college, moved to campus, made new friends. [I realized] you can be literally anyone you want to be, so I told myself I’m not going to be the shy girl anymore and pursue the things I’m passionate about. You know, you attract the right kind of people when you start to figure out who you really are.”

“Every Time I Feel Like Giving Up, I Think: They’re Watching Me!”

After college, the once shy and anxious Sikora had big dreams about becoming a high-powered CEO. Philanthropy was not even something on her radar. She moved home after college to figure out her next move, and there she saw that her 13-year-old sister had become exactly like her: obsessed with music. Watching her sister, and reliving the pain of her own adolescence, she realized she didn’t want her sister – or anyone else – to go through what she had gone through. That’s when the idea for Superbands came to her – she wanted to create an online community to give struggling young people the same sense of belonging through music that she had found.

your song isnt over written with a heart rate — *“But the universe kept telling me to keep going.”*

When Sikora put the idea out there to the world of the internet, she was astonished to find herself with thousands of followers overnight. People were sharing their stories and telling her how much they needed her idea to work. What had begun as a tentative idea now seemed to be something she had to do: “Oh my god, I can’t not do this now,” she thought when she read all of the harrowing stories of teenage pain.

So she began building her online community, working through “trial and error, honestly…I ran everything through Google.” She thought many times, “Forget this, this is taking up too much of my time and money. But the universe kept telling me to keep going. The manager of the Jonas Brothers began following me on Instagram! Now, every time I feel like giving up, I think: ‘they’re watching me!’” And just when she was going to quit once and for all, the Jonas Brothers announced a reunion tour. She told herself it was a sign, and she kept going, promising herself one more year to try. After she went to the Jonas Brothers reunion tour concert in 2019, she felt a renewed sense of purpose.

A new idea hit Sikora after that concert: “I pivoted and didn’t give up on the idea of the online community, but now we want to bring teens and adolescents to concerts so they can have a night to remember when life gets hard and things suck. Then they’ll have these memories to hold onto, just like I had. I decided I wanted to turn it into a sort of ‘make a wish foundation,’ but in a mental health and music way. I’ve dealt with this invisible illness, and I thought: ‘what if we could give them one night away from it all?’”

So, in March of 2020, Superbands officially became a 501c3 nonprofit organization, and Sikora began doing the hard work of making that dream a reality. Then the unexpected happened: the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and concerts everywhere were cancelled. Sikora was disappointed, but she is ever-resilient in face of challenges: “Life is really what you make of it,” she said. “Rather than sitting around and being sad, this means that music execs are sitting home with time on their hands, too…So I started reaching out to them, putting all of my time into that, using this time to build connections, and they have been very receptive. So now I’m getting things into place to start making wishes come true.”

“I’ve Just Figured Out Who I Am”

Even with the setback of the pandemic, Superbands isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The online community is still thriving, and Sikora is thrilled that everyday she can see the reach that her group has, as members interact with each other and repost content. And now, there are over 700 people on the Superband’s waiting list, hoping to have their dreams of seeing a concert or meeting their favorite band a reality, and Sikora has ideas for how to make that happen as quickly as possible. “Maybe the first event will be a virtual one,” she suggested. “Then we won’t just be changing one person’s life, but we could be throwing 3, 4, 5 people on a Zoom chat and quickly and easily changing all their lives. If we could partner with a large donor, they could easily pay the fees for meeting the person, and change someone’s life.”

Sikora is impressively dedicated to making this all happen, and excited about the prospect – it’s easy to see that she genuinely wants to make a difference, no matter how big or small. “If we can make one person’s wish come true, and then it falls apart, at least we can say we changed one person’s life,” she said. But what about her life? How has it changed as her story has progressed from that of a troubled teen to the head of a nonprofit?

“I’ve learned to pull myself out of my comfort zone – you have to just go after what you want, if you want to connect with someone, reach out to them. I’ve also learned to pick myself up when I fall down and have changed the mentality of being afraid – I’ve gotten better at giving myself a little bit of grace. I’m still trying to figure life out, but that’s ok, more than anything I’ve just figured out who I am.” We could all use a little bit of that “grace,” and use it, like Sikora, to try to make a difference in the lives of others.

If you’d like to help, you can donate to Superbands here. For mental health resources, check out Superband’s excellent list here. Most importantly, never forget what it felt like to be a young person, and lend an ear and assistance whenever you see instances of bullying or recognize the signs of mental health issues.

Who Do You Run 4?: How One Facebook Group Is Inspiring Thousands

It’s easy to take what you have for granted, it’s easy to opt out of putting in the work to take care of ourselves, it’s easy to look at other people and not see them for everything that they are. Tim Boyle, founder of I Run 4, has been pushing against all of these instincts for the last 7 years – and his nearly 40,000-strong group on Facebook is proof that he’s making a difference. I Run 4 matches runners looking for inspiration with “buddies” who are unable to run themselves due to disabilities, and the result is often life-changing friendships.

“I Run Because I Can”

Sometimes we just run out of sources of inspiration. That’s exactly what happened to Tim Boyle in 2012. He was going through a divorce, struggling with his weight and a long-time smoking habit, and at a low point in his life. He’d also been battling depression for some time. He figured running could be a one-stop shop for everything: weight loss, cardiovascular health, and mental clarity. So, after he finally quit smoking in August of that year, he took the money he would normally spend on cigarettes and put it towards some new running gear.

Boyle quickly found that sometimes good intentions just aren’t enough; you need something to keep you going. That’s when a chance encounter on the internet changed everything. One day, while aimlessly scrolling, Boyle stumbled on a page run by a man named Michael Wasserman. Wasserman was auctioning off his paintings, but not to make money for himself – winning bidders were requested to send the money to an organization that focused on developmental disabilities. Boyle was intrigued and sent him a friend request, not knowing that he was starting a relationship that would make a huge difference in his life and the lives of many others.

It was Wasserman who would finally give Boyle the boost he needed to get moving, and keep moving. On a particularly low day, Boyle was looking for inspirational quotes and found this one: “I run because I can. When I get tired, I remember those who can’t run, what they would give to have this simple gift I take for granted and I run harder for them. I know they would do the same for me.” He posted it to Facebook and Wasserman was the first to comment: “You can run for me anytime.”

“When I Get Tired, I Remember Those Who Can’t Run”

Michael Wasserman was born with Down Syndrome in 1961. At that time, there was no genetic screening for the disorder, and parents were encouraged to give up their newborns and send them to live in institutions. Mary Wasserman, Michael’s mother, would do nothing of the sort. Said Boyle, “when she gave birth, they pressured her hard to put him in a home and let him sit there and rot. She is one of the true pioneers in the Down Syndrome community. She has fought for more rights for parents and children, and for more of a say in what happens to them.”

Michael, who was only expected to live to see his late 20s, is now in his late 50s, and doing well, according to Boyle. He is mostly nonverbal, and confined to a wheelchair due to hip dysplasia. When he told Boyle to run because he, Michael, couldn’t, Boyle took that very seriously. He wrote back to Michael and Mary (who helps Michael to communicate), “I want to be your legs. I am going to dedicate all of my training miles and my next race to you.”

Mary was wary at first; according to Boyle, “the special needs community can be very careful and closed off. I needed people to vouch for me.” But Boyle won them over, and began sending regular updates on his progress to the Wassermans. Michael, with Mary’s help, sent Boyle regular updates on his painting and his pain management.

Eventually, as he struggled to stay inspired while running during the bitter North Dakota winter of 2013, he asked a close friend, “If I’m doing it [running for someone who can’t], do you think other people would want to do it?” That’s when he created the Facebook page I Run 4 Michael. Boyle and Mary Wasserman began reaching out to those in the running and special needs communities, matching each interested runner with a “buddy” living with a disability, and the group expanded. Eventually, the Facebook page and accompanying nonprofit organization, I Run 4, was born.

“It Doesn’t Mean That They Are Entitled to Less of a Life Than We Are”

It’s easy to see how a large portion of our population could feel left out of things. According to the CDC, approximately 1 in 4 people in the United States is living with a disability, and, of those, nearly 14% have serious mobility issues and nearly 11% have serious cognition issues. Many of the buddies that participate in I Run 4 are children, and Boyle has seen how these children’s disabilities can affect – and even isolate – families. According to Boyle, “families of children with special needs tend to feel like they’re trapped in a cocoon, even family members tend to separate themselves, parents feel trapped like they’re in a tiny little shell. I Run 4 helps families feel like there’s people out there that care, that’s what makes it so successful.”

And I Run 4 has been just that – extremely successful. More than 500 people joined in the first month, and more than 15,000 in the first year. At its peak, it boasted around 45,000 people and today its membership hovers around 39,000. According to Boyle, the only reason for the drop in membership is that they simply couldn’t keep up with the demands to find buddies.

When asked how he finds so many people that want to be a part of I Run 4, Boyle said the whole process has been “organic. We’ve built up relationships with people, and it’s spread like wildfire.” As for pairing up the participants, he said that runners and buddies are randomly matched on purpose, so that people can step outside of their bubbles, and they are discouraged from bringing up their politics or religion – “We need to view others as people, not who they support,” Boyle explained. His whole worldview seems to be based on seeing people as whole beings, not just the sum of their parts.

Ultimately for Boyle, creating the group was “about fighting for inclusion. Just because someone has been given a diagnosis or doesn’t have the same brain function, doesn’t mean they are entitled to less of a life than we are.” He wants people to see beyond diagnoses and differences, and he wants to bridge divides and create meaningful relationships.

“The Catalyst”

I Run 4 has become more than Tim Boyle could have imagined. In fact, he seems slightly in awe of it. “It’s pretty surreal to be the catalyst for bringing these people together,” he said, and spoke of runners and buddies from around the world not only sending each other daily or weekly updates on each others’ lives, but also traveling across the globe just to meet up. One runner was randomly matched with a buddy with kidney failure, and was later found to be a donor match for her buddy; as of about a year ago, she was scheduled to donate her kidney to her buddy.

But Boyle wanted to emphasize that he knows he couldn’t do all of this alone. He still posts about once a week in the group, but he has stepped back from matchmaking in order to let others “get that amazing feeling.” He has a team of volunteers that he specifically wanted to mention, because, according to him, “they work their butts off, and the organization wouldn’t be anywhere without them.”

And Boyle and Wasserman’s relationship? They’re still in contact as often as they can be, and although Boyle is on a hiatus from running, he now plays softball and even mows his lawn “for Michael.” Boyle said he has been lucky enough to meet up with Wasserman in person twice. “It was surreal,” said Boyle, “it was kind of like meeting my Batman.”

How You Can Help

The runners who participate in I Run 4 do not run to raise money; in fact, there is no fundraising allowed. All Tim Boyle wants runners to raise is awareness, and they do this in all sorts of ways when they run, from wearing DIY “I Run 4” shirts and hats to sporting tattoos of their buddies. I Run 4 does, however, accept donations on their website; you can also head there to sign up to be a runner or a buddy. In addition, in honor of Michael, who participated in the Special Olympics as a child, you might want to consider getting involved in that worthwhile organization. There are also numerous organizations that support families and people with disabilities, including The Arc, Easter Seals, and Parents Helping Parents.

We Got Us Now: Giving a Voice to the Silent 10 Million

According to Ebony Underwood, founder and CEO of the organization We Got Us Now, there is an “invisible population” that is being traumatized by the prison system in the United States. She’s not referring to the nearly 2.3 million people who are currently incarcerated, she’s talking about their children, and the children of formerly incarcerated people. These children suffer from a confusing mix of sadness, shame, and anger, which Underwood understands all too well – her father is imprisoned for life and it has taken her years to be able to speak about it.

black and white picture of a little boy that is sad — *The children of incarcerated parents suffer from a confusing mix of sadness, shame, and anger.*

Her organization aims to give these children a voice and put them at the center of discussions about criminal justice reform. We Got Us Now is built and led by children of incarcerated parents, and its mission is to “engage, educate, elevate, and empower through the use of digital narratives, safe-spaces and advocacy-led campaigns” that highlight and push for more humane policies surrounding the treatment of families in the prison population.

“Our stories are often unknown and untold,” says the organization’s website, “our experiences are unheard.” We Got Us Now is trying to change that.

“The Collateral Consequences of Mass Incarceration”

To understand why Ebony Underwood does what she does, it’s important to know about the population she’s fighting for. 1 in every 28 children in the U.S. has an incarcerated parent, and approximately 10 million children have had an incarcerated parent at some point in their lives. “But,” said Ebony Underwood, “these children often do not share this part of their lives because of the shame, stigma, and trauma attached to the experience.” For Underwood, living without her father and the uncertainty of when and if he would return meant that she “just stuffed the emotional turmoil of his physical absence deep down inside of me to avoid the pain.”

feet of a child with chains on it — *“These children often do not share this part of their lives because of the shame, stigma, and trauma attached to the experience.”*

Children often experience these feelings and have trouble expressing them, just as Underwood did. In “Collateral Damage,” an exhibition on children with incarcerated parents by the NGO group for the Committee on the Rights of the Child, the children of incarcerated parents often describe themselves as both “sad” and “angry.” One girl said, “I hated my mom…I thought she didn’t love us. But I also missed her.” Some said they’d rather not talk about it at school because they’re scared of what their friends will say, or that they want to keep it a secret from everybody.

Children of incarcerated parents are not only dealing with emotional pain, they also often live in poverty and destabilized family situations. Because of this, they are 6 times more likely to become incarcerated themselves. “But it’s not that parental incarceration causes children to end up incarcerated. It really is about economics,” said Underwood. “People think because your parent is incarcerated, you’re going to end up there — but no, poverty is at the basis of why you might end up incarcerated.”

“There Is a Name for What I’ve Experienced”

Ebony Underwood grew up in that reality of confusing emotions, silent suffering, and scary statistics. In 1988, when she was just 13, her father, William, was arrested on drug-related charges and given life without parole. It was his first offense, but he was sentenced based on controversial mandatory minimum laws. “He’s been incarcerated for 30 years and it feels so heavy — like we’re literally attached to him [with a] ball and chain,” said Underwood.

Despite his imprisonment, Underwood’s father has been very present in her life. She said: “My father has never once stopped being a father. He has been a very consistent parent, and he’s been fighting, fighting for so long to just come back into our lives: not just phone calls once a week, I mean every day. Whether we answered the phone or not, he kept calling. Graduation cards every year, holiday cards every year… My passion, my love for my dad and my family [brought me into this effort].”

barbed wire over a fence and building in the background — *“Mass incarceration is a tsunami that has ripped across the country and destroyed communities and ripped apart families.”*

When the Obama administration began granting clemency to some prisoners, Underwood began campaigning for the release of her father. Her efforts were not successful, but something good still came out of her contact with the Obama administration. In 2014, she learned of a White House initiative for “children of incarcerated parents.” Said Underwood: “I was shocked because not only had I never heard this term before, but I also did not know anyone actually cared about the children of people behind bars. That moment led me to create We Got Us Now.”

At that moment, her efforts became about more than just her love for her family and her desire for her son to have a relationship with his grandfather. “I realized that the story was way greater than my own,” she said. “Mass incarceration is a tsunami that has ripped across the country and destroyed communities and ripped apart families.”

“We Will No Longer Be Silenced by our Pain”

Ultimately, Ebony Underwood doesn’t believe that children of incarcerated parents are destined to be incarcerated themselves. “And that’s why I say: We got us now,” she explained. “Ultimately we have to tell people, and show people who we are, instead of people telling us who we are. We are survivors, not victims of this experience.”

She has been working hard to tell these stories since 2014, when she began speaking publicly and sharing her story through film, television, writing, and social media advocacy. In 2016, she formally started We Got Us Now, and continued conducting campaigns to advocate for children of incarcerated parents. For example the group’s “Love Letters” campaign allows children to send YouTube messages to their parents for Mother’s or Father’s Day.

We Got Us Now is about storytelling, but also about building a community of people impacted by parental incarceration, and about action. The organization brings together and trains actionists – who are children of incarcerated parents – to become advocates for others like them. They fight for legislation that would make it easier for families to stay connected, like proposed laws in New York that would mandate free transportation to correctional facilities for families on a bi-montly basis and would require that parents be incarcerated in the facility closest to their families. We Got Us Now is also pushing for legislation that would ban facilities charging exorbitant rates for phone calls. According to studies, all of these policies would help reduce trauma on children, and even reduce recidivism rates in incarcerated parents.

“We’re going to ensure that our voices are at the forefront of practices and policies that continue to impact us,” said Ebony Underwood. “We want to keep families connected and ultimately we would love to be able to end mass incarceration because we do not need another generation experiencing that.”

How You Can Help

If you want to help We Got Us Now, you can donate via their website. You can offer your skills to the organization by signing up to “join the movement” – you do not need to be the child of an incarcerated person to support them! They also highlight petitions you can sign – again, check out their website for information. You can also read up on what policy proposals there are in your area and sign any petitions supporting them. And, of course, you can call your senator and representative to push for reforms that would benefit children of incarcerated parents. Mass incarceration is not someone else’s problem, it affects all of our society. And, as Ebony Underwood points out, “children are innocent bystanders of this experience.”

The Kids Are Alright: How Two Teenagers Are Rocking the Nonprofit World

They’re focused and driven; they’ve been featured on the news and they’ve won the President’s Volunteer Service Award. And they’re not even old enough to vote.

Twins That Did Good

Large red santa claus bag filled with wrapped presents. — *At the age of four, they used the money in their piggy banks to buy Christmas presents for children in need.*

Max and Jake Klein, twin teenagers from Edgewater, NJ, have been philanthropists for as long as they can remember. As toddlers, they began asking for charitable donations in lieu of birthday presents. Because of their generosity, their beloved local library got some much-needed new computers.

At the age of four, they asked their parents if they could use the money in their piggy banks to buy Christmas presents for children in need. When they were six, they raised birthday money for some new tech for their local fire department. By age eight, they were selling cookies to support pediatric cancer research: they had learned that children get cancer, too, and they wanted to do something to help.

But it was also around the age of eight that Max and Jake began to get tired of being told they were too young. They weren’t asking to stay up later or be allowed more screen time; they were becoming frustrated by the lack of volunteer opportunities for children their age. “People kept telling us, ‘You’re such nice boys, but you’re too young,’”the Kleins said. When they were told that they couldn’t help with cooking and serving at a local soup kitchen, they “decided we’d have to come up with a way to take things into our own hands. We thought, ‘What can we do to show that kids are capable of making a difference and doing more than we’re given credit for?”

The Big Idea

man sitting in front of a computer in a room filled with computers. — *Their website as “an online resource for kids, and their families, to get involved, and a lesson-ready section to help kids learn.*

Realizing that they weren’t the only young people looking for ways to volunteer, Max and Jake eventually decided to start “Kids That Do Good,” a 501(c)3 charity. Their organization, launched when they were just fourteen years old, is described on their website as “an online resource for kids, and their families, to get involved with existing charities as well as create their own ways to give back.” The site is basically a search engine for charitable causes: kids can refine by their age, location, and area of interest to find causes looking for help. Users can also post their own ideas of ways to volunteer, and ask for others to join in with their cause.

Max and Jake still try to get out into the community at least once a month to do direct volunteer work. They put in about 20 hours a week researching new volunteer opportunities, and working on the website. And their work has paid off! The site brings in tens of thousands of unique viewers and has connected kids to 16,000 organizations. Users can currently browse over 130 pages of organizations to give their time to. They have also added a “teacher resource” section to the site, which includes ready-made lesson plans to help “teach kids to make a positive impact.”

The “Kids’” Workforce

But even these seemingly tireless twins can’t do all of this work alone. In addition to the five “Big Kids That Do Good” advising them, they also have two teenage board members, Jordan and Steven. Jordan has been busy getting professional sports teams to donate to his pet causes, while Steven has recently completed a project sending 1.400 books to developing nations. Say the Kleins, “It’s so simple to ask your friends, people in your school and around your town to donate books they have already read. That’s what we’re talking about. Make an impact. Make someone else’s life better. It’s easy!”

Some Well-Deserved Recognition

Max and Jake’s work is not going unnoticed. For their sixteenth birthdays, they were invited to give a presentation to lawmakers (including New Jersey Senator Cory Booker) in Washington D.C. While there, they gave their annual birthday donation to the National Commission on Military, National, and Public Service. This year, they had asked friends and family to give money towards military care packages. The brothers, in turn, were surprised with a cake, and the honor of a gold level Presidential Volunteer Service Award.

cartoon of a hand putting money into a clear jar. — *Even while being recognized, they gave their annual birthday donation to the National Commission on Military, National, and Public Service.*

The Kleins deserve all of the recognition they are receiving for the work they are doing. Their young lives have been spent, in their words, “showing people how easy it can be to be charitably-minded…and making someone else’s life a little better.” Their efforts may seem extraordinary, but for Max and Jake, giving back doesn’t have to be something you overthink. Just find a way to help.

“Kids That Do Good is all about getting involved when you are young and making that part of who you are,” say the brothers. “There are so many ways to make a difference. Sure, you can participate on a breast cancer walk fundraising team with your family, but did you ever consider removing snow for an elderly person living alone on your block? What about asking if you can walk their dog every day after school? How about visiting a nursing home and asking if you can simply read to the residents?”

Giving back: Partnering With a Nonprofit

Many businesses choose to use their brand and reach to positively impact their community. One way they do this is by forming partnerships with local nonprofits. Partnering with organizations that have a cause in alignment with your values or brand can benefit both the organization AND your business. A 2018 study found that over 50% of Americans report that they would switch to a company that supports a cause they believe in. The adage “vote with your dollar” rings true: consumers want to know that their money and support are going to businesses with whom their values are aligned.

When you’re a new business, it might seem counterintuitive to partner with a charity or non-profit. You’re probably focused on growing your margins and building your brand. Despite these concerns, there are some clear benefits to partnering with a charitable organization, beyond supporting a good cause.

two hands shaking — *By partnering with a nonprofit or charity, you can promote both your business and the partner organization.*

Why partner with a nonprofit?

By partnering with a nonprofit or charity, you can promote both your business and the partner organization. You can make the most of this link by publicizing on social media and your websites, putting up flyers, and asking the partner to publicize your charitable giving. Your name will become more recognizable, and will be associated with doing good.

With brand recognition and partnerships come greater opportunities for networking. By expanding your bandwidth to include a nonprofit’s pre-existing community of supporters, you open the door for new clients. This provides an easy and cost effective way for small businesses to get their name out there.

Picking a partner

Picking the right charity or non-profit to partner with is important. While most people have heard of the Red Cross or Salvation Army, they might not be the best choices. Partnering with a charity whose supporters include your customers is better than simply choosing the largest charity in town. Think of your target audience, and what issues matter to them. If your brand focuses on environmentally friendly products, you might consider hosting a local park clean up, or partnering with an organization that plants trees. Beware of trying to be too many things at once, as appealing to every passing trend can result in a brand with unclear values. If your partnerships don’t make sense, you can become a poorly defined brand who’s partnership confuses the consumer.

How to partner

caucasian woman's hands with bracelets on wrists and a ball of cash in the middle of her open palms. — *You can donate a percentage of profits, offer customers the option to donate with each sale.*

There are some simple ways to partner with a nonprofit organization. You can donate a percentage of profits, offer customers the option to donate with each sale, sell products in your storefront, or sponsor the organization in an event. Brainstorm ways you can benefit your community and the organization and what services you have to offer, and then reach out to the organization to collaborate.

There are some things to pay attention to when considering partnerships and charitable giving. It pays to be honest about your business and its limitations. Don’t pledge to give 5% of net sales if you’re struggling to pay your bills. However, if you are aware of your limits, you can use that knowledge to your advantage. For example, if you are struggling to generate engagement on social media, partnering with an organization that has a social media marketing presence might boost your exposure.

Transparency is key

Finally, transparency is critical when it comes to charitable partnerships. Be as clear as possible with customers about how their purchases will benefit a charity. Always do your best not to make commitments you cannot keep. If you make smart, conscientious choices about partnering with community organizations and charities, the benefits will deliver for both you and your nonprofit partner.