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APRIL 15, 2022
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ect was ‘ a game changer ’
without it, she isn’t sure her rela-
tionship with her mother would
have remained strong.
“People on the outside, they don’t
see how much it changed relation-
ships,” Bradshaw says. “That kept
those moms going, knowing ‘I get
to see my kids and give them a hug
and hang out with them Saturday.’
It really helped the moms want
to be better and not have to come
back.”
Female incarceration rates
skyrocket after 1980
Women are one of the fastest
growing segments of the prison pop-
ulation, according to data from The
Sentencing Project. Between 1980
and 2019, the number of women who
were incarcerated rose by more than
700 percent, increasing from just
over 26,000 to more than 222,000.
Various research studies concur
that this is mostly due to the war
on drugs, which resulted in tough-
er drug-sentencing laws, even for
nonviolent or possession charges.
Plummer says she experienced
this: Despite having her drugs
locked up in her bedroom, when
she refused to reveal the identity
of her suppliers, she was hit with
additional child endangerment
charges as well as delivery of a
controlled substance within 1,000
feet of a school.
“That one still baffles me because
I didn’t deliver anything,” she says.
Even without a violent offense on
her record, Plummer faced signif-
icant societal barriers after being
released from prison as a convicted
felon.
“Life after prison didn’t come
easy. … I had to fight for my chil-
dren, my housing and my educa-
tion,” she says. “I never really had
to fight for my job though. Unlike so
many others, I got support because
our Tribe believes in second and
third and however many chances
you need. I don’t even know what I
would be doing for a job otherwise.”
She adds that the Family Pres-
ervation Project helped those who
participate prepare for both posi-
tive and negative situations after
leaving prison.
“I didn’t know if my kids would
be returned to me,” Plummer says.
“I was pretty sure they were not.
Some moms aren’t able to see their
kids when they are released or have
difficulty finding housing, so they
go back to what they know, bad sit-
uations. The program helps prepare
you for many different outcomes.”
In the spring of 2021, Senate Bill
720 was introduced in the Oregon
Legislature. If passed, the bill
would have allocated permanent
annual funding to the program, but
it stalled in committee. This means
program funding remains in limbo.
Plummer wishes that legislators
would take into account the larger
societal costs of mass incarceration.
“I wish that costs to the whole
family had more of a focus,” she
says. “It’s a pyramid, a ripple effect.
I think it is a lot less for prevention.
If they could see the bigger picture,
it’s much more expensive to house
Tribal member Michele Plummer, second from the right, sits in a matching dress on her mother’s lap, alongside the
rest of her family in a photo displayed in Plummer’s office. Plummer was adopted by a white family when she was 2
years old before the Indian Child Welfare Act was enacted in 1978.
Female incarceration statistics
Oregon ranks in the middle of U.S. states for its imprisonment of
women with 57 per 100,000, slightly above the national average of 54.
Women in state prisons are far more likely than their male counter-
parts to be incarcerated for a drug or property crime offense: Twen-
ty-six percent have been convicted of a drug offense, compared to 13
percent of men. Property crimes, which are often interwoven with drug
addiction, are 24 percent for women compared with 16 percent for
men, according to The Sentencing Project.
The female incarcerated population is eight times higher than it was
in 1980. Between then and 2019, when the most recent national data
was compiled, the number of incarcerated women increased by more
than 700 percent, from 26,378 in 1980 to 222,455 in 2019. Of those, 60
percent had a child under 18 for whom they were the primary or sole
caregiver.
Additionally, under war on drugs laws, any drug use is equivalent to
child abuse, regardless if the drugs were locked up and kept away from
the children, or if there was no actual physical harm or neglect to the
child.
Racial disparities are also telling: Native American women have the
highest incarceration rate per capita of any other racial group, with 349
per 100,000. The second highest rate is Black women, with 285 per
100,000.
Children with a parent in prison are several times more likely than
others to end up in the foster care system, drop out of school and go to
prison themselves, according to the Drug Policy Alliance.
According to 2018 estimates, the minimum cost to have a child in the
Oregon foster care system is $26,000 annually. According to the Vera
Institute’s “The Price of Prisons” survey in 2015, it costs an average of
$44,000 per year to house an inmate in Oregon.
an inmate than it is to run this
program. Look at how much it costs
to put a child in foster care. There
needs to be treatment of the whole
family unit.”
Day of Empathy focuses
on raising awareness
Mothers served by the Family
Preservation Project, including
Plummer, gathered at Abundant
Life Church in Portland on Wednes-
day, March 30, for the second an-
nual Day of Empathy event. The
purpose was to “raise awareness in
pursuit of a shared vision to keep
communities safe, families whole
and economies strong.”
This year’s focus was for attendees
to imagine what the world would
be like if it “centered care and not
punishment in addressing harm.”
Plummer joined project alumni
Alicia Roach, owner of Birthing
With Dignity Doula Services, while
award-winning documentary film-
maker Brian Lindstrom served as
discussion moderator.
Plummer says no matter how
many times she tells her story, it
still feels like it just happened.
She talked about her struggle
post-prison to obtain a college ed-
ucation while working full-time,
including earning a law degree.
“It was a struggle and I have tried
to give back for the harm I caused in
whatever capacity I can,” she says.
“My struggle began when I was
born and was in 12 different homes
before turning 2. That abandonment
stayed with me. My adoptive family
was wonderful, but didn’t under-
stand the trauma and healing that
I needed. … That cultural compo-
nent was missing from my life and I
didn’t have that to give my children
when we were hurting.”
Plummer adds that the entire
Day of Empathy experience had
been enlightening for her, even
though she’d already had firsthand
experience with the criminal jus-
tice system.
“I thought that prison saved my
life, but that is not the truth,” she
says. “I saved my life. I got out
of there to never go back. Sitting
in prison was a waste of time for
everything and everybody. The
healing didn’t start until I left that
place. I’m so glad I wasn’t in there
for a long time.”
