![\"One](\"http:\/\/stories.kera.org\/price-of-prison\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/22\/2019\/10\/card.jpg\")
<\/p>\nOne of the cards India sent to her father in prison, when she was 22. \/ Photo: Thorne Anderson for KERA<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
“All of our letters that we’d write back and forth to each other, we’d always sign it ‘in this together,'” Marc said.<\/p>\n
India said they signed that way to remind each other of their father-daughter bond, like, “I’m still going to be there, and he’s still going to be there for me.”<\/p>\n
Marc and his wife divorced when India was 3. She lived with her dad after the split.<\/p>\n
India is 26 now. She’s married and has two daughters of her own. When Marc was released from prison in March, he and India picked up their relationship right where they left off, spending weekends together and sharing meals.<\/p>\n
“I knew he would be a great grandparent, like the way he was with me. Always supportive, loving,” India said. “I knew he would be that 10 times more, [not having] to worry about the discipline side. Like, that goes to me and my husband.<\/p>\n
“I just knew it was going to be awesome.”<\/p>\n
At a late August visit to India and Jose’s home in Garland, Marc was playing backyard soccer with 8-year-old Brayden. At one point he gave 2-year-old Meilani a boost up an oak tree. It was clear he was trying to make up for lost time.<\/p>\n
“There’s no wrong that they can do,” he said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give them, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”<\/p>\n
![\"Left](\"http:\/\/stories.kera.org\/price-of-prison\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/22\/2019\/09\/OCAPrison_MarcWilson_family-683x1024.jpg\")
<\/p>\nLeft to right: India Wilson; her father, Marc Wilson; her daughters Meilani Alcendra, 2, and Brayden Wilson, 8; and her husband, Jose Alcendra; at India and Jose’s home in Garland. \/ Photo: Allison V. Smith for KERA<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
One thing he won’t be able to do, though: pass down an inheritance.<\/p>\n
The GENERATIONAL COSTS OF INCARCERATION<\/h3>\n
When Marc went to prison, he couldn’t pay his mortgage, so he lost eight years of equity in his home. His $20,000 in savings were drained by legal fees. Those assets would have one day gone to his kids and grandkids.<\/p>\n
“It’s kind of a depressing feeling to be honest with you,” Marc said. “Just knowing everything that I’m supposed to do for them, and the things that I should be doing for them.”<\/p>\n
Before his conviction, when he was making close to $90,000 as a nurse, Marc would also have been able to help India with day-to-day expenses. That’s something he thinks about a lot, especially as India plans to attend nursing school, herself.<\/p>\n
“There are certain things that she struggles with financially,” Marc said. “I can’t help her as much as I would like to. But I still try.”<\/p>\n
He certainly can’t help as much as he used to, back before he had a criminal record.<\/p>\n
That’s why prison doesn’t just cost the offender. It costs everyone around them.<\/p>\n
“Incarceration does have generational consequences,” said Rashawn Ray, a sociologist who studies race and criminal justice at the Brookings Institution. “Part of what parents give to their children are wealth-building opportunities.”<\/p>\n
Like passing down a house, or helping with a down payment. Paying college tuition can be a game changer, too.<\/p>\n
Marc Wilson was in a position to help his daughter with all of that, before his arrest.<\/p>\n
\u00bb RELATED |<\/strong> Read our story about how much Marc Wilson’s financial life changed<\/a> because of prison and how it put him thousands of dollars in debt<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n Ray says Marc’s story, and those of other black men and women, illustrates wealth inequality in America.<\/p>\n The racial wealth gap exists “not necessarily because of personal decisions, but instead due to systemic ways that racism has operated throughout American history,” Ray said.<\/p>\n A famous example of this is redlining, the practice of marking maps by race to measure the risk of extending loans and providing insurance. Lenders excluded entire communities of color, making it nearly impossible for residents there to build wealth by owning a home.<\/p>\n A home that could be sold or passed down. An asset.<\/p>\n That opportunity hasn’t been available to everyone in equal measure.<\/p>\n The home ownership rate among all Texans is 62%. Among just North Texans, it’s 60%. Here’s how home ownership rates stack up when broken down by race\/ethnicity.<\/p>\n (Tap or hover your cursor over the icons to see the percentage of each group who are homeowners. Go here<\/a> to see the data sources.)<\/em><\/p>\nA COMPOUNDING FACTOR: RACISM<\/h3>\n
Percentages of Texans who are homeowners<\/h6>\n