‘The most devastating secret.’ How mothers cope with sons behind bars
Keyna Herron is especially joyful this Mother’s Day — after nearly five years of on-and-off separation through various juvenile detention facilities, her now-17-year-old son has returned to her home on Freedom Drive.
Herron said she endured a lot of sleepless nights while her son was on the streets and in the juvenile justice system. But now, he recently graduated from TarHeel ChalleNGe Academy, a military school and intervention program for teens in New London, and will be joining the Navy in August.
She said her son had been in and out of trouble since he was 11, and the dozens of court dates and a lack of support took a toll on her mental health.
The Charlotte Observer recently spoke with Herron and other Charlotte-area mothers who have sons involved with the criminal justice system. They spoke of how when one of their kids goes to jail, it feels as if they go with them.
Taking time off from work to accompany their child to court, attempting to communicate with them behind bars and questioning whether this could be their fault led to a stigma few could understand, they said.
Worried for her son
Herron works in Atrium Health’s Emergency Department. She said she worked a lot, and it was especially difficult to be a single parent going through this process with her son.
“I started having trouble with him at the age of 11,” Herron said. “He started running away... He would stay gone two or three days. And it was very much a hurting process for me because I was a troubled teen as well. So I kind of experienced the pain that I put my mother through.”
At 14, her son went into the juvenile justice system for stealing cars, she said. “I just didn’t understand it because I didn’t raise him that way,” Herron said.
There were many nights where Herron stayed awake, unable to sleep or eat, because she was too worried about her son to do anything but pray.
“With everything that’s going on in the world, and knowing that he’s a troubled child, to be out in the streets at 4 and 5 o’clock in the morning not knowing where you are, what you’re doing, it’s hurting,” she said.
One of the things that impacted Herron was having to take days off from work to attend court dates for her son alone. It was painful, she said, and she was angry with herself throughout the process.
Something that helped was going through counseling, connecting with networks that help moms like her and communicating with others what she is going through.
Now that her son is home, their relationship has improved. They are communicating, and planning a trip together before he ships out.
“It was worth all the pain and all the hurt that I’ve been through,” Herron said. “Now I can’t do anything but rejoice, and smile, and give my praise … to God that I’m thankful.
A strained relationship
Shikila Mason said her son has been in and out of the criminal justice system since he was 14. Now, she said, he is 18 and in Mecklenburg County Jail on an armed robbery charge.
Mason said her son usually called or sent a card on Mother’s Day if he was in juvenile detention or jail at the time. However, this year, she may not get a call or card.
Having a child in the system is rough, Mason said, and she worries that because of her son’s race, as a young Black man, the system will be harder on him. “The court system will always be not for you, but always be against you,” Mason said.
While Mason said she and her son used to be close, at this point, they don’t have a relationship. He has been in and out of the court system around 15 times.
Mason said she doesn’t talk about what she is going through with her son.
Other moms whom the Observer spoke with say there’s a stigma that surrounds those who have a child in the criminal justice system.
Those who have been through the system with their children, and who have lived this experience, are trying to form a network of support for other moms.
Providing a safe space
Because of her son, Camille Stephens formed an organization to help youths involved in the juvenile justice system and their families.
When Stephens’ son was 21, he was arrested for alleged involvement with the Hidden Valley Kings, a gang based in Charlotte. He was incarcerated for 12 1/2 years, and shortly after his release in 2020, he was shot and killed.
Stephens said she was blindsided when her son was arrested and had no idea who the Hidden Valley Kings were, let alone that her son had any involvement with them. At that point in her son’s life, at 21, he had two children, was taking college classes and had a home of his own.
Her son was brought up on federal charges related to the gang. Stephens was heartbroken, asking herself where she might have gone wrong.
“I wish no parent in this situation at all,” Stephens said. “And that’s why it’s so important for me to help the youth that I deal with see what it feels like from a parent’s standpoint.
Based on her son’s experiences while he was incarcerated, Stephens started Locked Out Love, a nonprofit that works with youths in the criminal justice system and their families.
Stephens leads a Parent Talk Therapy group every Thursday from 6 to 7 p.m. at 1000 Anderson St. at the Plaza Road Academy.
Stephens started the therapy group because, through her work with Locked Out Love in the juvenile justice system, she frequently worked with parents who lacked support and didn’t know who to turn to.
“They say other people don’t understand, even family members don’t understand what they’re going through,” Stephens said. “So to have... a support group that somebody can come to and speak about whatever it is that they’re feeling or speak about what’s going on, whether it be the loved one or whether it be your child, you have a safe space.”
’The most devastating secret’
Terry Stokes, who participates in the therapy group, was inspired by her own experiences to teach anger management classes as part of the Mecklenburg Council of Elders Juvenile Court Intervention Program.
The Council of Elders is a nonprofit made up of 15 grassroots organizations that works within the community.
Stokes hopes to prevent other kids and teens from entering the system like her son did.
She still remembers the feeling of panic she experienced when she first received the phone call almost 30 years ago from Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police that her son was in trouble. The call came in the middle of the night, and she panicked, thinking her child might be dead.
Stokes said her son was 12 when he faced a charge related to fighting in public within Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools. “It’s the court process where all your emotions, all your feelings, everything is bound up within that court system,” she said.
What most people don’t understand about the judicial system, Stokes said, is that when you receive a court date, it is just a “court date to get a court date.”
There can be several hearings in the process. And as a parent of a child under 18, you have to take off work for all of them. And they usually take all day, Stokes said.
“If you have a friend, you are lucky that you can tell. But it’s the most devastating secret that we normally keep to ourselves,” Stokes said. “Some families, they pretty much separate from you as well. Because either they are thinking you want to borrow money from them. Or they really don’t want to deal or help you deal with your child that has gone to jail.”
Stokes’ son went to a wilderness diversion program for troubled teens. This program didn’t allow phone calls so instead she would write letters to her son. She visited on the weekends she could get off work.
There’s a stigma and lack of support that surrounds moms who have a child in the juvenile justice system, Stokes said. She went through the process feeling isolated, embarrassed and blaming herself.
“There is no support team for a mother that has a child in the juvenile justice system,” Stokes said.
Her son first entered the system around age 12 or 13 some 30 years ago, she said. Stokes is still healing, learning not to blame herself, and teaching other mothers not to do the same and that the actions of their children isn’t their fault.
She encourages those with children in the juvenile justice or adult system to find a group like Parent Talk Therapy, where they can speak with others who are going through the same struggles they are.
To her, joining a community of moms who went through what she did, and being able to talk about it, has meant freedom.
“It means that I belong, it means that I have found my voice. Because I never talked about this, I never discussed that,” Stokes said.
“I never thought about talk Parent Talk Therapy before this year, and that it will free me from some repressed things inside of me. Because my child is in his 40s … and we still cry.”
This story was originally published May 6, 2022 at 6:00 AM.
