When a loved one is convicted of a horrific crime, families are thrust into an agonizing emotional minefield. For columnist M. Gessen, this dilemma is not just theoretical—it is deeply personal. In a new Serial podcast titled "The Idiot," Gessen explores the chilling reality of their first cousin, Allen, who was sentenced to 10 years in federal prison in 2024 for orchestrating a hit on his ex-wife, the mother of his two children.
Now, Allen is desperate to re-establish a connection with his kids from behind bars. To understand how—and whether—such a relationship can or should exist after such an unforgivable betrayal, Gessen turned to writer Harriet Clark. Clark’s upcoming novel, "The Hill," draws heavily from her own unconventional upbringing: her mother, Judy Clark, served 37 years in prison for driving the getaway car in a notorious robbery that claimed three lives.
Despite the severity of her mother's actions, Clark maintains a close, loving relationship with her today. She credits her family and an accommodating prison infrastructure for keeping that bond alive during her childhood. Rather than isolating her from her incarcerated mother, Clark's caretakers fostered their connection through weekly visits to the prison's Children's Center, reading letters aloud, and tracking the birds her mother spotted from her cell window.
"Many people made many efforts to really enable my mother to remain my mother," Clark noted, calling it a rare stroke of luck in a justice system that often fractures families permanently.
For Gessen, whose cousin targeted his own children's mother, finding empathy is a staggering hurdle. The natural impulse for many guardians is to completely shield children from parents who commit severe harm. Society often assumes that a violent parent has forfeited their right to be involved, or that prison environments are inherently too traumatic for young visitors.
However, Clark argues that psychological insights and lived experiences suggest otherwise. When a parent is sent to prison, a child often internalizes a devastating, unspoken fear: they are abandonable. To counteract that trauma, children need to see consistent, tangible efforts from the incarcerated parent to stay involved and supportive.
Severing ties doesn't protect the child; it creates a psychological void. When communication is cut off, the absent parent transforms into an emotional "black hole," taking on a terrifying, mythic dimension in the child's mind. Children need a real, flawed human being to whom they can direct their confusion, grief, and rage.
Furthermore, treating the incarcerated parent as an unspoken taboo forces children to absorb the awkwardness and hostility of the adults around them. Clark warns against families adopting "carceral logic"—the false belief that simply erasing a problematic individual from the picture miraculously heals the remaining family. Ultimately, facilitating a relationship with a convicted parent, no matter how difficult, may be the crucial tether a child needs to navigate their own trauma.