For thousands of Indiana children with parents in prison, the holidays are hard. These groups are stepping in

Derrick House spent seven years incarcerated in Indiana — nearly his daughter’s entire life. During that time, prison lockdowns often limited visits. He remembers one visit in particular where he was told he couldn’t even hug his daughter.

“She ran up to me like, ‘Daddy!’” he said. “And I turned from her. It hurt me.”

House is now home, reorienting to life outside and spending his first holidays in years with his daughter. But for many, the season is a stark reminder of separation.

In Indiana, an estimated 117,000 children have a parent behind bars. Community groups say the holiday season can intensify the isolation and grief those families feel, and they are stepping in to bridge the gap. Staying connected can also be difficult and costly.

For those still inside — and those recently released — the mental strain is heavy.

“Support is very much needed around the holiday time, because it’s one of the highest times when people commit suicide,” said Michael White, who was incarcerated in Indiana and released in 2016.

White and House still participate in You Yes You!, an Indianapolis-based nonprofit that works with incarcerated and formerly incarcerated fathers to help them build relationships with their children and strengthen their ability to be present parents.

Ericka Sanders founded the group to offer support during difficult times. She said family connections can reduce recidivism, but the emotional benefits are just as critical.

“Dad feels unloved. Kid feels unloved,” Sanders said. “But neither one of them are talking about being unloved. And the truth of the matter is, you guys are enormously loved by each other.”

Research shows that maintaining connection and visitation can reduce recidivism and ease the transition back into the community. Increased communication and bonding can also help repair strained relationships — especially between parents and their children.

At a holiday gathering earlier this month, the group brought volunteers, families and returned fathers together. For White, these moments of connection are vital.

“That physical touch means everything,” White said. “To be able to see your kids run in there and call your name. It takes away everything that’s happening back in the dorm — you forget about it for an hour, two hours.”

The hidden victims 

While Sanders focuses on the relational gap, others are solving the logistical one.

More than 37 years ago, Cecelia Whitfield’s son was sentenced to decades in prison.

The stress, she said, was overwhelming. It became difficult to eat. Visits meant sitting behind glass, unable to touch her son. She found herself asking, "Why me? Why am I going through this?"

As Whitfield traveled to Indiana prisons to see her son, she began noticing how many other families were struggling to do the same — some even hitchhiking to facilities with no clear way home.

For many families, prisons are hours away from where they live. One by one, Whitfield started giving people rides so they could visit their loved ones.

Thirty-seven years later, Whitfield has built Use What You’ve Got Prison Ministry. What began with just Whitfield and her car has grown into a prison shuttle system — with buses, retreats and support for people returning home from prison and for their families, whom she calls the “hidden victims.”

“We’re more than just transportation,” Whitfield said. “We’re healing on the bus. We’re able to talk about our pain together, without anyone making us feel a certain way — people who don’t really understand what this is all about.”

Learning to be a father again

White said visitation with his children was what helped him get through hard times.

He participated in fatherhood programming and now works to help other parents and children navigate the strain incarceration can place on family relationships.

Another father, Terrell Jackson, was released just weeks ago. Jackson, who grew up without his own father, said he’s focused on reconnecting with his daughter this holiday season.

“I’ve been out of her life most of her life,” Jackson said. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
“We’re still complete strangers,” he said. “But we’re here now, and we’re trying to figure it out.”