Father’s Day in an era of mass incarceration, deportation and criminalization is always emotional for me for a few reasons. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to be with my two daughters and seeing their faces light up when they say, “Happy Father’s Day!” I enjoy seeing my wife and calling my family and friends and wishing them happy Father’s day as well. Overall, I cherish the fact that I have the opportunity to be free and with family. But underneath that, I can’t forget that there are millions of fathers, children and families who will look at Father’s Day not as a joyous occasion, but as a day that callously rips open a wound regardless of its healing stage.
Currently, the U.S. is the world’s largest jailer accounting for 25% of the world’s prison population and only 5% of the world’s populous. Additionally, there are 5 million more people on some form of community supervision. Furthermore, there are over 65 million Americans with a criminal record. Lastly, since 2008 President Obama’s administration has deported over 2 million men and women.
In the U.S. there are approximately 2.7 million minor children with an incarcerated parent — millions more who have a deported parent and these numbers are not counting the immeasurable trauma that is associated with the familial experience of criminal justice involvement and/or separation due to deportation. The fact is that the current systems of justice that we hold up as reflective of our shared values of family, strength and prosperity are indeed quite the opposite.
Separating families, particularly fathers from a household negatively impacts a family’s economic strength, social mobility, emotional and psychological health, and even morale to name a few on a long list. Particularly damaging is the generational impact that separation can cause or even exacerbate other forms of trauma that children or other family members could be experiencing.
I know this from my personal experience — my time spent in immigration detention in 2014, facing almost inevitable deportation to Guyana, a country that I left when I was only four years of age is something that my family and I still grapple with. My children have an ever-present fear of me not returning when I leave in the morning for work, or return home late from a long day of advocacy. These emotions may fade, but the trauma is present.
I enjoy Father’s day. It helps to keep my perspective grounded in gratitude, humbleness and persistence. I enjoy Father’s day because it reminds me that I have what is most important in my life. I enjoy Father’s day because it gives me the strength to continue to advocate against flawed policies that have or will negatively impact families who have been marginalized and silenced. In an era of mass incarceration and deportation Father’s day is just not the same.
Also published by the Good Men Project