Meet Dione
I had never been arrested before. The first time it happened, my children were standing right there, watching me being taken away in handcuffs. I can still see the fear on their faces. It was traumatizing for them and for me.
All of this started with a falling out with my mother. I was living with her and my four children while I was on leave from Temple University. I was just one year away from finishing my degree and becoming a college art professor, my dream. However, because I owed the school money, I couldn’t return right away. My mother and I argued, and instead of helping me, she filed criminal trespassing charges and got a stay-away order.
With nowhere to go, I was stuck between shelters and the streets. One night, I told my kids I had nowhere to sleep. They let me stay in the basement. The next morning, my brother called the police. That was it, I was trespassing. I was arrested, even though it was the same house I had been living in for two years.
The jail I was held in was filthy, old, and unforgiving. Some of the staff were kind, but most weren’t. I only needed bail money, but I had no way to call anyone for help. They wouldn’t let me access phone numbers. My family wasn’t speaking to me. My oldest son was in the military, and my next oldest was only 17, too young to help. I was completely alone.
At first, my bail was set at $5,000. Later, it was reduced to $500, but even that was like $50,000 for me at the time. I sat in that cell for a month, waiting, not knowing when or if I’d ever get out.
Then the Philadelphia Community Bail Fund came along. They didn’t just pay my bail; they showed up with food, transportation, and even an Uber to take me to my year-old daughter. I have never experienced care like that in my life. The relief I felt walking out of those doors, knowing I could hold my children again, was indescribable.
I was released the day before Mother’s Day. Seeing my children’s faces again was the best gift I could ever receive. And just a week later, my grandson was born. Because of the Philadelphia Community Bail Fund, I got to be there at the hospital, to hold him in my arms and to witness that moment with my son.
But coming home was not easy. My food stamps and health insurance had expired while I was locked up, so I came back to nothing. The Philadelphia Community Bail Fund helped fill the gaps by providing school clothes for my kids, food, shoes, and even bus fare so I could visit my children when we were still separated.
The hardest part was housing. I was determined to keep my six-year-old daughter with me, but we had nowhere stable to live. Eventually, we secured a permanent shelter, but initially, it meant showing up at the shelter every day to prove we were homeless enough to be eligible for a spot. It was exhausting.
Being separated from my kids broke me. I’m a hands-on mom; I have never been away from them more than a night or two. My 17-year-old had to step up and take care of the younger ones while I was gone. When I came back, I could see how much they had struggled. My daughter had health issues that had been overlooked. That crushed me the most, knowing they had suffered because I wasn’t there.
Dione (left) with her daughter (left).
Through it all, my dreams haven’t changed. I am still an artist. I’m still creating. I still want to return to Temple, complete my degree, and teach art as a professor. For 15 years, I worked as a model in art schools. I have a whole collection of paintings of myself. My art, my teaching, and my love for my kids, that’s how I want to be remembered.
But this experience opened my eyes. Judges and the legal system often fail to see people as whole human beings. They don’t see the families who are destroyed when a parent is locked away, even for a month. They didn’t see my children, who had to carry the weight of my absence.
Without the Philadelphia Community Bail Fund, I don’t know how long I would have been in jail. They gave me my freedom back. They gave my children their mother back. They gave me a chance to start rebuilding my life.
