The green room at the Alberta Rose Theatre sits stage right, down the steps and through a short, dark hallway. Ornately framed mirrors cover the walls. There’s a makeup counter and a changing room. Plush sofas. A single-person loft bed sits atop a bank of open cubbies and shelving. It’s a place for bands to prepare for their shows and take a quick nap after a long journey to Portland.
But on Monday, March 9, a different crowd fills the space: mothers, teenagers, babies and helpers. They’re members of the Family Preservation Project, a nonprofit based in Coffee Creek Correctional Facility in Wilsonville. Coffee Creek is the only women’s prison in the state. Most of the mothers in FPP were once incarcerated there. Their mission is to help other mothers stay connected with their children while incarcerated. It’s not easy. Moms inside sometimes have to choose between paying for phone calls to their kids and personal hygiene products or snacks.
The mothers and children of FPP are celebrating the annual Day of Empathy, a day of activism for criminal justice reform nationally organized by Dream.org. This is the sixth year that the women and children of FPP will bring Day of Empathy to Oregon.
The show’s lineup is stacked: musical acts, a film screening, speeches and a youth panel discussion. This year’s celebration has a theme: The Bill of Rights for Children of Incarcerated Parents. Oregon passed the Bill of Rights for Children of Incarcerated Parents in 2017 as Senate Bill 241. Then-Gov. Kate Brown signed it into law.
The legislation was landmark: Oregon was the first state in the country to codify protections for children during their parents’ incarceration. It declares that “each child of an incarcerated parent have certain essential rights.” Nine total rights are listed, including: “to speak with, see, and touch the incarcerated parent,” and “to have a lifelong relationship with the incarcerated parent.”
Today, the young people of FPP are rewriting the law. Or, rather, advocating for more protections for kids who are going through what they went through when their mothers were arrested. They will walk the stage in twos and stand together while recordings play over theater loudspeakers, willing forward new, tangible visions of a justice system that protects families and children who don’t understand what’s going on when their parents are taken away.
But right now, back in the green room, someone brought in boxes of cupcakes. There’s a lot of laughter. Stephanie Schneiderman of the Oregon Symphony sits on a stool and strums an acoustic guitar. Lacey, who was released from Coffee Creek three weeks prior, sings next to her. It’s a lullaby written to her daughter, who is just old enough to walk:
“No matter where you are/ I just pray you learn what love is/ Wherever and how far/ I just pray you know where home is/ Mom and dad will love you ‘til the end of time.”
Later, Lacey wrote to Street Roots. She said the lullaby “is a reminder that even though I was unable to be there physically, I was there and am always able to be there in heart and by continuing to push forward and be the best woman and mom I can be. It is something that my children can look at and hear and be reassured that through it all, they are always so loved and thought of.”
FPP works with mothers with minimum security status at Coffee Creek. One FPP mother, Kendra Wright, told Street Roots that moms in minimum meet with their children in a cafeteria decorated with a mural and other things on the walls to make the space look more kid-friendly.
“They really spruce it up for the kids,” she said.
Wright says FPP used to be in a different building at Coffee Creek, the “programs” building.
“It was like a giant classroom or library,” Wright said. “There were books everywhere, carpet, really secluded and private. There were tables that we sat at and games. It was awesome.”
Children could have a closer, more comfortable experience with their parents.
Wright is now the director of an outpatient service for mental health and substance use. She’s also a doula and works with another FPP member, Alicia Roach, who leads the doula program and was instrumental in passing the legislation that created it at Coffee Creek. Both Wright and Roach were formerly incarcerated at Coffee Creek, where they worked with FPP to maintain contact with their children.
After Wright’s arrest, she was not permitted to see her daughter for nearly two years. Wright’s parental rights were revoked. She said her assigned worker with the Oregon Department of Human Services denied Wright phone calls with her daughter, Selene. She talked about her experience in the short documentary “Like a Shield,” directed by Brian Lindstrom. The film played at the event.
Once Wright could see Selene, prison visitation rules limited physical contact. Children aged seven and older were not permitted to sit on their parents’ laps.
“Here was my child who was seven, who just wanted to snuggle with me and curl up, and put her little face on my shoulder and, and my neck,” Wright told Street Roots. “That just wasn’t allowed at the time.”
Later, Wright says she and Selene advocated to change these visitation rules.
Not all children with mothers incarcerated at Coffee Creek have the same visitation access, Wright explained to Street Roots. Moms and children with medium security status cannot access FPP services, which enable more frequent contact between children and parents and provide weekly support for moms. Wright said she would like to see the creation of a children and family center at the prison, a place that would allow children to spend more quality time with their mothers.
The right of children to be able to physically touch and talk to their incarcerated parent is one of the rights that the youth of FPP would like to reimagine in their recordings. Young adults and teens make up the Youth Advisory Council. They meet to plan events, talk on panels, lobby lawmakers, connect with other kids — and just hang out.
The recordings make recommended amendments to the Bill of Rights for Children of Incarcerated Parents.
“Immediately after a parent becomes incarcerated,” one recording begins, “there is a system in place where the child is informed as soon as possible, and given a chance to speak to their parent right away, with phone calls that are always free and accessible. The child is able to visit their parent in a warm, barrier-free environment that supports real connection through touch, conversation and closeness.”
In the green room, YAC member Roxanna Frias sits high up on the loft bed. The show is starting soon. People are coming and going. Makeup brushes and hair products are scattered about.
Frias says she has been a part of FPP since she was 9 years old. She’s 19 now. She’s one of the founding members of YAC.
“It’s something we chose to build to empower children to speak up about the rights of children with incarcerated parents,” Frias said. “It’s just a space where we can really choose to fight for what we really believe in.”
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Frias recorded an amendment to the Bill of Rights that asks authorities to allow children and parents to participate in a family conference as soon as possible after their arrest, where they can plan for the future, including plans for addressing the trauma of the separation.
“We know prosecutors and judges act according to laws that we have on the books in Oregon,” Frias said. “How do you think we can make sure they consider the impact of their decisions on children?”
Selene Taylor, Kendra Wright’s daughter, now 20, also hopes the Bill of Rights for Children of Incarcerated Parents will influence those in the legal system. She’s recently married.
“The Bill of Rights allows us to be heard,” she told Street Roots. “That’s the biggest thing. And also so that our lawyers, case managers, DHS workers, families, court systems and police all have us in mind when making changes or policies. (To ensure that) no child falls beneath the cracks of the system and gets forgotten, and to ensure that children with incarcerated parents feel supported and seen in their darkest days.”
But the way the Bill of Rights is written into law faces some challenges. Chesa Boudin, former District Attorney of San Francisco and child of incarcerated parents, spoke at the Day of Empathy.
He said that the problem with the Children’s Bill of Rights “is that on paper the rights sound and are well-intentioned, well-meaning, important — in some cases, critically important. But the way the laws are passed, there’s no remedy when they’re violated, and there’s no funding to prevent them from being violated.”
Families can’t sue anyone if these rights are violated.
“If I was going to try to change something, I would ensure funding mandates so that the rights are being respected,” he said.
He told the audience that he would add a “cause of action” to the current laws, “so that if the rights were violated, there’s some kind of remedy that can be sought from the courts.”
Nova Sweet was in FPP’s class of 2015. “The Bill of Rights gives professionals a framework to pause and ask important questions,” she wrote in an email to Street Roots. “Are there children involved? Who is caring for them right now? How will this moment impact them?”
Taking that pause can result in small but meaningful actions, she explained. Actions like: “Officers taking an extra moment to handle an arrest in a way that reduces trauma when children are present; corrections staff recognizing the importance of maintaining safe family connections; system partners coordinating with community services, so children aren’t left without support.”
Taylor said that the hope is always to grow.
“The hope is always to bring this work into law, so that it’s more enforced and practiced and so that hopefully this can reach the right audience of people in power to see the change that is needed, the change we are crying out for,” Taylor said.
Taylor said she hopes this is a call to growth for justice system professionals, not a condemnation.
Street Roots asked Frias what she would say to kids who are struggling with understanding their parents’ incarceration right now.
“It gets easier,” she said. “This feeling that you’re feeling is not permanent. There are always emotions that are going to come, but remain strong. And just don’t forget there’s a brighter side. And so, just remain true to yourself and don’t let other people’s opinions change your opinion on anything else.”
At the end of the show, Lacey’s lullaby to her daughter brought tears to the eyes of the emcee.
“Against all odds, you came to this world/ We will teach you to know your power/ We’re always connected/ We’re always one.”
Conflict of Interest Disclosure: Anna Wilcox is a filmmaker and multimedia journalist from Oregon. She volunteers as a camera operator for FPP. She was paid once in May of 2025 for camera work at an FPP event, under the direction of Brian Lindstrom.
This article appears in March 18, 2026.