Keisha Hudson

Galen College of Nursing in San Antonio, Texas

Hi, I’m Keisha and thanks to my scholarship from Stand a Chance, I start Galen College of Nursing in the Fall. I can still stay home at my grandma’s house just a few miles from the school. I always wanted to be a nurse like my grandma growing up but I just didn’t see it working out.

Growing up hasn’t been easy—both my parents are in prison. I don’t talk about it much. In school I act like everything’s normal so people don’t treat me differently. I keep my grades up and focus on nursing because it’s something I can control and it feels right.

Some days I am sad. I wish my parents were around to see me go to prom and graduation, but I’ve learned to handle things on my own. My grandma is the one who taught me to care, to be patient, and to stay steady when everything else feels unstable. She’s the reason I chose this path.

I don’t want anyone’s pity, and I don’t want my past to define me. I just want to move forward, become a nurse, and build a life where I’m proud of what I’ve done. That’s enough for me. 

I was five when police raided our house and arrested my parents. I had to care for my brother and sister. My dad has been in and out of prison most of my life. My mom has been jailed several times and is in now.

When we visited my dad as kids, the visit room was a cold, grey hall with a few toys in a corner. My brother would get bored and cry, I’d complain, my dad would get angry and say we didn’t visit enough, guards would tell us to be quiet, and I’d shout back until we left. I didn’t see him again for years.

Prison visits felt invasive—you’re treated like a criminal and questioned. On each visit we argued and I left feeling the day was wasted. He only contacted us from prison when he wanted something.

My mom wrote to us every week in prison and sent extra cards for birthdays, Christmas, and Easter. I never answered because I was angry. In the last few years I started talking to her again until she went back to prison. Then I said I was done, but my sister wanted to visit. I had to hide my anger so my brother and sister wouldn't hurt like I did.

I often found myself scolding my mom or talking with my grandma about plans for when she gets out. I think it helps that she's in a better prison now. It's open and helps people find work. This is the first job she's had in about 15 years, and when she got it I felt proud—like I was proud when my sister got her first job.

I never told anyone my parents were in prison when I was younger, and I still avoid it. I felt ashamed and worried about what people would think. Once I told a few teachers because I fell behind after my mom’s release. They were shocked I hadn’t asked for help sooner. I avoided telling others because I didn’t want to seem different, and I didn’t realize how much it would matter to people who hadn’t experienced it.

If your parent is in prison, find someone to talk to — even one trusted person helps. Let yourself feel what you need to feel and take time to process it. That doesn’t make you weak or unable to cope.