One Story Among Many: Navigating Parental Incarceration as a Native Daughter
Meet Karinne,
Project Avary Outreach Specialist
My journey growing up with an incarcerated parent...
To put it simply, growing up with an incarcerated parent is hard. It strips you of a “normal” childhood, heightens your chances of mental health challenges, and isolates you. For me, it also interrupted my ability to fully learn about and embrace my family’s culture. I’ve never been able to fully put into words what it felt like to have the carceral system take my dad away but the impact is palpable in how I identify, process, and move through the world.
My dad, who is a Yurok tribal member, was in and out of jail and prison for much of my life. I share this not just to tell my story, but to highlight the disproportionate number of Native people who are incarcerated, many of whom are parents. Incarceration doesn’t just remove someone from their family. For Native people, it also separates them from their land, their culture, and everything that makes them whole. And the children left behind often struggle silently, confused about how to navigate their new reality.
For me, not having my dad around meant I stopped going to our family’s allotment in Wehlkwew, our traditional village, as often. It meant he never got to teach me how to bead or mend, how to fish, how to dance. It also meant that I had to grow up at a young age. I was lucky though, I had a wonderful mother, grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins who helped raise me. That kind of communal care and love was a game changer. It’s a strength often found in Native and working-class communities, even when we’re navigating loss or injustice. Still, nothing could replace my dad’s presence. I was robbed of knowing what it meant to have a father. He was gone a lot, and I was angry, sad, scared, and confused.
Little did I know that was just the beginning of a long journey for me. One filled with healing, reconnecting to my identity as a Yurok descendant, navigating self-love and self-hate, abandonment wounds, joy, and ultimately a deep desire to support others with similar experiences.
When I found Project Avary, I was just beginning to realize that my negative experiences with parental incarceration could become something positive; not just for me, but for others too. I started as an adult participant, which eventually led me to become a counselor, and now, an Outreach Specialist. Project Avary didn’t just hire me, they truly heard my story, saw my potential, and created space for me to grow. I’d never experienced that in a workplace before.
At the same time, I was interning with the Yurok Tribe Reentry Program and working with Save California Salmon. I began to see a pattern: I was drawn to supporting incarcerated Native people and their children, while deepening my connection to my own community and culture. When I told Project Avary about my internship, they didn’t just support it, they helped me build on it. They gave me the opportunity to combine my lived experiences with my skills and passions, and that’s how I came into my current role as an Outreach Specialist focused on supporting Native youth and families.
The reality is, Native youth are disproportionately impacted by parental incarceration and often lack relevant resources. Over 20% of Native youth in California alone have experienced parental incarceration. Even with staggering statistics like this, there are not many resources for Native youth with this specific impact. And because of the ongoing systemic harm caused by settler colonialism, there’s often distrust toward outside organizations entering Native communities. It is my hope as an Outreach Specialist at Project Avary to build long lasting and trusting relationships within the Native communities that I am serving. Sustaining these relationships and honoring each youth and their families is my priority.
As I continue to grow in this role, I want to be clear that my outreach extends to all youth—regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or class. While I do specific outreach to Native youth due to the urgent need and my own lived experience, I care deeply about all of our youth, and I want everyone to feel welcome and seen in this work.
My experiences are personal, but they’re also shaped by my positionality. I'm White and Native, and although my family and I have experienced financial hardship, emotional challenges, and intergenerational trauma, I’ve also benefited from privileges and access to resources that others may not have had. I move through this work with humility and a commitment to ensure Native youth and their communities are included in the support we offer.
Project Avary is bridging a critical gap by offering support that’s often overlooked or underfunded. And now, this support is nationwide. That means I get to connect Native youth from different Nations, building intertribal community and healing spaces across geographic lines.
This support doesn’t just destigmatize parental incarceration and improve mental health, it leads to real, tangible outcomes:
Higher graduation and college acceptance rates
Disruption of intergenerational incarceration cycles
Resume-building experiences and community service hours
Equity-building through leadership development and paid youth roles starting at age 16
And most importantly: lifelong, supportive relationships rooted in trust and shared experience
This is the kind of support I yearned for as a child. That’s why it’s a dream come true to introduce our program to more Native youth who deserve this kind of resource, this kind of community, and this kind of care.