Aline Monroe, 24, presses the black button on the face of the long, black recorder on the table, letting the tape roll, as she opens the brightly colored children's book before her. It is “A Day in the Life of Farmer,” one that her 2-year-old son, Shayne, will get in the mail days later. She begins with a personal message, her voice barely breaking the quiet of the library.
“Hi, Shayne,” she says into the microphone. “It's Mommy. I hope you're being a good boy. I haven't seen you since Christmas, but I hope you're minding your manners. Make sure you brush your teeth. I love you, and I can't wait to see you.”
With that, she begins the book, pausing every few sentences to point out the pictures for him.
“Do you see the cows, Shayne?” she asks him. “That's where your milk comes from for your nutrition. Farmers start their days very, very early. And do you see the farmhouse? That's the farmer's home, and when I come back, we'll live together, and that'll be your home.”
SHE KNOWS THAT reading to a child is an important part of parenthood, a nightly ritual in many families. But for Monroe, now serving the remainder of a seven month sentence in the Arlington County Detention Center for violating her probation, it is one that she cannot do in person. Once a month, Monroe and other female inmates have a chance to record a reading for their children, children who rarely hear their mother's voices. Monroe picks out educational books for Shayne.
”They're like sponges at that age,” she said. “I want to make sure he picks up on good stuff. He'll want to watch cartoons all day, but I want to reinforce the information he learns in school.”
She also has an infant daughter, Sinaia. Born in the jail, Sinaia is too young to understand even the simple sentences of Shayne's book, so Monroe selects books featuring shapes and colors, books on counting and the alphabet. The books will help Sinaia's development, but the real incentive, she said, is maintaining a connection with her children.
“I just read so Sinaia can hear my voice,” she said. “I'd rather be there, of course, but this is all I can do right now.”
Monroe's tape and the book will be sent to Shayne at his father's house through the Books on Tape Program, initiated four years ago by Robbie Braxton-Mintz, the jail's inmate service coordinator. A small grant from the Arlington County Sheriff's Office helped to launch the program, and it has since become a joint project in conjunction with the county's Department of Libraries. Department staff oversees much of the program, such as helping inmates to select appropriate books and coaching them on reading skills if they are not fully literate. Along with keeping mothers in touch with children during one of the most formative parts of their youth, the program, she said, has changed the atmosphere among female inmates.
“The women who participate, continue to,” she said. “They come back every month. It keeps their spirits up.”
THE DETENTION CENTER currently houses 620 inmates including 94 women, about 40 percent of whom are part of the program. The average stay, Braxton-Mintz said, is about 30 days. Donna Harrington, 45, is serving 14 months. Her daughter Lindsay Anderson, 11, hasn't seen Harrington since a special Christmas visiting day Dec. 14. Through the program, Harrington has sent her daughter readings of “Mary Poppins” and “The Secret Garden,” along with other titles. Harrington said she never misses her monthly visit to the jail's library, where the recordings are done.
“She's my strength in here because I know that she's looking forward to seeing me,” Harrington said.
Jailed for stealing to support her addiction to crack cocaine, Harrington and many of the other mothers in the detention center are also engaged in a substance abuse treatment program. Completion of the therapy is a condition of her release. Lindsay's father is also incarcerated. Her tapes are mailed to her step-mother's home in Lorton, where she will live until she and Harrington can be reunited.
Prisoners pay $4 to make the recording and have them mailed. But if they don't have the money, Braxton-Mintz said, the jail will cover the cost.
“The charge goes toward the overhead costs of the program, and it's a lesson in responsibility,” Braxton-Mintz said. “We want them to learn to be held accountable.”
Sandra Reid, 38, pays the fee to read to her 9-year-old daughter, Olivia.
“I tell her to stay strong, that I miss her, that she needs to keep her room clean,” said Reid, who has served more than a year for crack possession. “This has really been hard on both of us. It's really important to me to make it out of here. She always asks me how many more days it will be. I just want my life back.”
In the story of an Olympic gold medalist who battled polio as a child, Reid found “Wilma's Race” had an important lesson for her daughter.
“It taught that no matter what it is you want in life, you can succeed,” she said. “It was really inspiring. I just want to push my daughter to never give up.”
Books like “Why Do Mosquitoes Buzz in People's Ears?” and “Wilma's Race” are among the titles Reid has sent to Olivia. When Reid and her husband divorced, she read her a book explaining what was happening, titled “Mommy and Daddy Are Getting Divorced.”
REID IS SCHEDULED for release in February. Monroe is due to be release in March, but she never tells Shayne that.
“It's just that in case something happens and it ends up taking longer, I don't want him to disappointed,” she said. “I don't tell him when I'll be home, just that I'll be home soon.”
Turning the tape back on, Monroe tells Shayne just that.
“Sooner or later, I'll be there,” she said. “I'll come home, and we can sit down to dinner like we used to, OK?”