Mass incarceration is an issue that touches many people of color in America. There are far too many of us who have had or have loved ones behind bars. If that description doesn’t fit you, you probably know someone who does.
Regardless of the circumstances that brought them there, the experience of a loved one becoming a number is heartbreaking for those left here in the free world, especially children. Whether they are confined near the car or detained across state lines, they are so close and yet so far away. They dream of their face or fantasize about their voice, only to be able to experience them at overpriced, 15-minute, often very irregular intervals.
I have observed Daughters on Netflix when it came out on August 14, and I can’t get it out of my head. Before its debut on the streaming platform, I had heard a lot of praise for this award-winning documentary about four young girls growing up with incarcerated fathers. Before I pressed play, I already knew that this documentary would hit home for me and touch on a certain part of my personal history. In fact, my own daughter, now 17, has spent a large part of her life as the child of an incarcerated parent.
The way co-directors Natalie Rae and Angela Patton present the documentary from the point of view of Aubrey, Santana, Ja’Ana and Raziah, four girls who attend a father-daughter dance at a DC facility, is absolutely genius. Viewers get a glimpse into the world of children who didn’t choose these burdens, but still cope with them as best as they can. Although each girl’s relationship with her father is different from the next, the way each father’s choices have affected them is the same. As the film crew follows the girls over the years, one can see the ups and downs they experience in their young lives.
I knew my own daughter was affected by her father’s absence, but this documentary made me look at a lot of memories from her childhood from a different perspective. For 90% of her life, her father was either a number in the prison system or couldn’t be the father he could have been because of these experiences. Through DaughtersI felt like I was seeing different parts of my semen on the screen and knew I would never fully understand her pain.
For my entire 38 years, my father has always been in my life – even though my parents were never together, so to speak. I’ve never known what it feels like not to have my father around. And yet here I am, the mother of a child who knows who her father is, but doesn’t really know him. A child who has to watch friends or even strangers grow up and spend time with their fathers, but can never know what that feels like. We’ve always talked openly with each other, but no matter how open you are with your mother, there will always be things you keep to yourself. I can only imagine her thoughts and feelings.
Although Aubrey, Santana, Ja’Ana and Raziah are of different ages and walk of life, their stories are representative of the experiences of millions of children and young people across the country. Their stories reminded me of my young daughter’s journey with her own father.
Their relationship was a little complicated before his death in 2022. They weren’t as close as Raziah and Alonzo, nor as estranged as Ja’Ana and Frank, but she loved her father. He had been in and out of the system before, but it had never been a serious relationship. That all changed when my daughter was three years old.
In the early years of her father’s imprisonment, when she was still young – about Aubrey’s age Daughters –– My daughter was so happy when her father sent her a letter. He expressed his love for her, how much he missed her, and how much he hoped she was a good girl for mommy. Her excitement for his release was even as optimistic as Aubrey’s. To my baby, it was as if everything in the world would be fine if her father would just come home. As she grew older, she became angrier and eventually indifferent, a parallel to Santana’s behavior in the movie.
When Santana was first introduced to the audience, I had to pause for a moment because the tears were flowing. This beautiful, smart, articulate little girl was filled with anger at a man she loved so much. She couldn’t understand why her father couldn’t just do the right thing.
People are quick to say that children don’t understand, but that’s not true. Don’t you remember your childhood? You may not have always known everything in detail, but you knew when something unfair was happening. Daughters reminds us that although children are small, their pain is often much greater.
