Love Letters to Boys in Jail

Dear ____,

Their stories do not define you and your current circumstance is a result of a world that hasn’t given you the softness you deserve. I hope you know you are deserving of unconditional love.

I hope you stay soft.

AR

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One of the simplest yet greatest gifts I can give to my kids is the opportunity to just be. To be a kid. To fuck it up. To be silly and strange and curious and whimsical. I see where most of my childhood was rooted in scarcity and fear. A seventeen year old mother has much to be afraid of and regardless of intention that same fear alters your blood stream and therefore your bloodline until someone comes along and places a tourniquet. This doesn’t mean I’m not scared- I am all the time. There’s a difference between fear and discernment.

Don’t let them tell you otherwise.

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Dear ____,

You deserve to be curious. To ask questions, to be silly, to laugh so hard you can hardly catch your breath.

Do you know that you are good?

Do you know that someone is loving you every moment of every day?

With love,

AR

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The current age of prosecution in the state of Colorado is 10.

4th and 5th graders. Children who can barely tie their shoes (well) by themselves. Kids that haven’t lost all their baby teeth. A 16 year old can be arrested and tried as an adult for Class 1 and 2 felonies such as murder or sexual assault. A child as young as 12 can be tried the same for what they call a particularly heinous crime.

I had my first kiss on my twelfth birthday, DJ- he tasted like Twix, and started my menstrual cycle two weeks later at the bible camp my aunt paid for. I still wanted to sleep with my mom and often settled for a stuffed dog. I sometimes stayed home from school to care for my mother. I cried over long division and rode my bike to the gas station to buy gummy dinosaur eggs.

Moonie will be 10 in a year and a half.

They ask, “what if it was your kid that was hurt or killed?” and my answer is always the same, no matter the age or the crime-

I am an abolitionist and I do not support the carceral system.

No, not even for that.

Not even for that.

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Dear ____,

Despite what you may have been told or taught, you belong to nobody except you and the earth. Mistakes do not define a person just like love is an action. I hope love is placed upon you today.

Biggest love,

AR

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A couple weeks ago Moonie came into our bedroom just as Little had begun to stir from his afternoon nap.

Me, Little, Anaya, in that order. All of us sleepy and I’m cold because for whatever reason my body temperature is unable to regulate during Saturday afternoon naps. I’ve always been this way.

Moonie enters the room and approaches my side of the bed-

“If I tell you something do you promise not to be mad?”

Me, without skipping a beat or remotely hesitating, yes, I promise, because in this house you have already won for coming out with it and trusting me enough to know you can tell me the truth.

Moonie: “so, there’s a little bottle in the cupboard in the bathroom and I didn’t know what it was so I put a little bit on my leg to see what would happen and then it…”

Me, interrupting, but not panicked: are you okay? Does anything hurt? Can I see?

Moonie: “well, it turned color so I…

…

so I got the gold gel pen and I tried to cover it up.”

Me: suppressing laughter

Little, laying down, hands behind head like a very small old man: “lemme see”

Anaya: suppressing laughter