Benedictine Sisters Carol Ann Peterson (left), director of the Keeler Women’s Center in Kansas City, Kan., and Barbara McCracken (right), who visits incarcerated women in the Wyandotte County Detention Center as part of her work with the center, sit with one of their success stories — Carmelita Castaneda.

 

 

Keeler Women’s
Center services

Among other services provided at the Keeler Women’s Center are:

 


The center is located at 2200 Central Ave., Kansas City, Kan. Its phone number is (913) 906-8990. Its Web site can be found at: www.moutosb.org/kwc.

 

A Keeler Success Story:
Carmelita Castaneda

Before her candid conversation with The Leaven at the Keeler Women’s Center in Kansas City, Kan,, Carmelita expressed concern over confidentiality issues. She didn’t want other women to think that if they sought help, they’d end up with their names and pictures in the paper. She asked us to emphasize that it was her choice to be interviewed and photographed, in the hope that she might help someone else.

Where are you from, and where did you go to school?
I grew up in Shawnee and I went to Shawnee Mission Northwest High School.

When were you incarcerated?
I was in and out of the Wyandotte County Jail since 1992. I’ve been a drug addict since I was 16. I’m now a recovering drug addict, clean since October of ’07.

Were you in jail for drug-related offenses?
Which time? Yeah, I was in for possession. Crack pipes. Crack cocaine. I was on the street. I was homeless for seven years. I got my first DUI in ’92 and that’s when the jail thing started going on.  I went to prison for a while, got out, hit the streets again — just kept doing the same thing, same thing. Finally, I just got tired of it.

How did you become aware of the Keeler Women’s Center?
I met Sister Barbara in the Wyandotte County Jail. I met her a couple of times actually and thought, “Hey, I want to do that [go to the center],” but I never did. When I was on my fourth parental termination (Begins to cry) . . .  I’d just had a baby, and they took her from me because of my past. I had to go turn myself in [to the jail], and I wrote a letter to Sister Barbara saying I needed them to go to court for me, and they did. That’s how I wound up here.

Besides going to court for you, how did the center assist you?
Therapy. A lot of therapy. They just helped with everything, actually. Anything and everything I needed, even before I asked for it.

Why do you think you finally decided to get clean?
It was just me, surrendering. It wasn’t because I had to do it, but because I chose to. It was a choice I made. And I had some really good people in my corner to help me out.

Now that you’ve been clean for nearly three years, are you still coming to the center regularly?
If there’s a class I want to take, I come back for that. I just completed a financial class, where they teach you how to get out of trouble with your credit cards and stuff like that. But my therapist told me it was time to cut the strings. I can always call, though, if I need anything.

You’re working full time now for a local store in a national drugstore chain?
Yes, I’m a senior beauty advisor. I run the cosmetics department. I’ve been there for almost three years.

And you get to see your children?
My two youngest are with me now. And I get to see the older two. Everyone’s letting me into their homes now. (Wipes away a tear.) It’s good. It’s really good.

What are your goals for the future?
I want my kids to go to college. I want to go back to school myself, eventually. I want the dog, I want the white picket fence, I want it all!  A few years ago, I never thought any of that was possible. I was angry, and it was everyone else’s fault. Now I know I have to take responsibility for my actions. There’s accountability. There’s a big picture, and I’m a part of it. I wouldn’t go back to the way things were for anything.

‘Serving those who would not otherwise be served’

On the outside, their lives are most often bleak.
Addiction. Poverty. Fear.
On the inside, things aren’t much better.
“It’s all steel and concrete. The chairs are attached to the tables. And it’s loud — very, very noisy in there — because there’s nothing to absorb the sound,” said Sister Barbara McCracken, OSB, who visits incarcerated women in the Wyandotte County Detention Center as part of her work with the Keeler Women’s Center in Kansas City, Kan.
“They can’t see outside. They can’t go outside,” she said. “They have a lot of lockdowns in their cells, sometimes 23 hours a day. It’s not good for mental health.”
And, Sister Barbara added, many of them are going through drug withdrawal — alone, sick and terribly frightened. Some, including those detoxing, are pregnant.
“What we offer them is an outreach,” said Marla Looper, Sister Barbara’s co-worker in Keeler’s ministry to incarcerated women.
“We’re not a governmental agency,” said Looper. “We’re just people who care.
“When they see that, it’s hugely important in getting them to make that first phone call to us.”

No boundaries

Get your life together. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps. Just say no.
Well-intentioned individuals and society as a whole are full of advice for drug addicts, alcoholics and criminals. What they may lack at times is an understanding of the big picture in the lives of those people, particularly women.
Sister Barbara painted a composite picture of a woman being released from jail and struggling to get her life on the right track.
She’s a drug addict. She’s homeless. She’s faced a lifetime of domestic abuse. She lacks support from a spouse, partner or family. She has no money and no job skills. She may not even have any form of identification, like a driver’s license or birth certificate. And she’s quite accustomed to being dismissed — as unworthy, as a bother, as a statistic.
Sister Barbara, Looper and the volunteers at Keeler offer these women an alternative view.
“There’s a strength in these women,” said Looper. “They’re fighters.”
“I sometimes say to them, ‘Many women your age, in your situation, are dead,’” Sister Barbara said. “‘You’re not. There’s obviously something special going on with you. You’ve got something you need to do here in this life.’”
And so the Keeler Women’s Center accepts the struggles the women face and welcomes them with a policy of “no boundaries.”  The ministry for incarcerated women welcomes those from a cross section of society: Although some hail from the suburbs and boast master’s degrees, the majority are single parents living in poverty.
It was out of a desire to serve the poor that the Benedictine Sisters founded Keeler in the first place, in 2003. Originally housed at Donnelly College, the ministry moved to the second floor of the Catholic Charities building on Central Avenue in January 2008.
“I do think we make a difference in women’s lives,” said Sister Carol Ann Peterson, director of the center. “We’re just trying to get the word out, so more of them will come to us.
“All three of us Sisters on staff gave up professional salaries to be here. We’re behind this, 100 percent. Keeler Women’s Center is here for the long haul. And this ministry to incarcerated women is an important part of what we do. Sister Jerome, who founded the Benedictine Sisters, always believed in serving those who would not otherwise be served.  That’s what Sister Barbara, Marla and our volunteers are doing with these women.”