My name is Veronica Lockett. I am a 37-year-old native of Austin, Texas and the mother of a happy, healthy, beautiful fourteen-year-old daughter, Raney, and seven-year-old son, Ryan. I have acquired both positive and negative experiences from my childhood in the Texas foster care system. I continue to overcome the effects of past abuse and neglect as I aspire to achieve a higher level of self-sufficiency. I hold a Bachelor and Master’s in Social Work from Texas State University. While my license is expired, I practiced as licensed social worker with child victims of human trafficking. Most recently, I graduated from UNT Dallas College of Law in Dallas, Texas.

From his wife and the mother of his little girl: “Miss and love ya! Greg was a good friend, a loving father, a talented surfer, painter, and had a heart of gold. My husband battled mental health issues and as we all know Texas cut the budget for mental health a huge amount…”

From Amy’s mother, Vicki: “Her favorite flower was tropicana roses. She loved cats alot and she loved family memoriablia—always holding onto anything to do with the family. She had a thing with goodie bracelets and bows in her hair always.
Her favorite drink was Dr. Pepper as her father worked at the Dr. Pepper plant that was in Mt. Pleasant and Mt. Vernon for like 25 years, until he passed away in 2005.
Her favorite color was purple, and one year she decorated a Christmas tree all in purple. That is why at her funeral last month, we did a purple Christmas tree—since she missed this Christmas and died right afterwards.”

Nathan D. King was part of the Livingston, Texas community when he died at the age of 37 in 2015. He was also part of a close family, and his mother, Mrs. Timmie King, has plenty of memories, such as how much he loved her cooking, animals, football, and , of course, his three children.

When Brenda Martin recalls how her only child’s life came to an end at the age of 37, she knows there was not one isolated event that caused his early demise. But she’s convinced that although he didn’t die in custody, the 73 days he spent in Caldwell County jail directly contributed to his death.

At Texas Jail Project, we’ve always been disheartened by jail staff and officials who automatically assume that all complaints coming from a pregnant woman—or from any prisoner for that matter—are lies. As the authors of this interesting series state: "This notion—that prisoners, and especially women prisoners, are liars—permeates the dozens of cases we reviewed where prisoners suffered miscarriages, still-births, and even deaths."

They take a clear-eyed look at this negative attitude that shapes so much of the treatment of women. The stories are moving, the research solid, and their reporting reveals previously unknown forms of abuse, such as the Chicago jail’s practice of forcing women who are close to term to have induced labor.

In the course of their five-month investigation, RH Reality Check authors spoke with TJP’s director several times, and we are pleased to see their references to Texas Jail Project’s efforts on behalf of Texas women.

Finally! Houston Chronicle reporter James Pinkerton brings attention to an often overlooked subject that is so important to prisoners and their families: visitation at the Baker Street jail. Texas Jail Project has long wanted to shine a light on what one older father called 19th century conditions when he came to visit his son week after week, and couldn’t hear anything he said.
This excerpt is from our interview (see Inmate Stories) of an observant woman held 13 months there: “At Harris County Jail, the visitation rooms do not provide telephones; they have plexiglass windows with holes in them through which inmates and visitors have to shout at one another to be heard. It is extremely stressful to receive a visitor because it is so difficult to hear anything over all the shouting that is going on [around you]. I finally worked out a system with my uncles, who came to see me regularly, to bring paper and pen and we communicated by writing messages to one another, instead of trying to yell through the plexiglass…. Thus, even visitation was an unpleasant and stressful event ….” Despite her loneliness and despair during her long pretrial detention, when she saw how hard visitation was on family members, she told them to stop coming.

I have been fighting for justice for my younger brother since he passed away in 2012 [in the Bexar County Jail]. Tommy was a shy, but friendly, outgoing person, filled with more love and kindness than anyone I have ever met. Oh, how his smile was infectious and his laugh was always sincere and contagious! Tommy worked as an electrician for over 8 years, as well as helping out friends and family with anything they might need. His daughter was 3 years old when he passed away—she has his smile and his personality and that keeps his memory alive.

In North Carolina, the Ban the Box campaign—removing questions about conviction history from initial job applications– is producing good results, both for the counties and for people who have served their time and want to work. We need to see more of this in Texas! Reported by a great newsletter produced by California advocates at Legal Services for Prisoners with Children.

TJP says it’s about time! Thanks to Razor Wire Women for this posting.
A coalition of prison family members and representatives of secular and faith based organizations serving prison families from across the United States in attendance at the 2012 National Prisoner’s Family Conference affirmed the following