The Empty Chair: Incarcerated Fathers and the Holidays

By Kenneth Braswell, CEO, Fathers Incorporated

The holidays have a way of magnifying everything—joy, connection, and even loss. For families with an incarcerated father, it’s not just another empty chair at the table. It’s a silence that echoes through the laughter of children, a void that doesn’t need to be explained because everyone feels it.

Picture this: A father sitting alone in a dimly lit prison cell, staring at a wrinkled photograph of his kids. He hasn’t seen them in months. Maybe years. He’s done wrong, sure, but that doesn’t erase the ache. His child, at home, doesn’t understand why Daddy isn’t there to see the Christmas tree light up or watch them unwrap their favorite toy. “Where is Daddy?” becomes a question met with half-answers, uncomfortable pauses, and deflections.

This is the untold story of the holidays for millions of families. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, 92% of incarcerated parents are fathers. That’s not just a statistic; it’s countless kids staring at presents under the tree, wondering why their dad isn’t the one handing them out. For Black families, the impact is even more stark. One in nine Black children has a parent in prison, a reality so common it risks becoming invisible.

These are not just numbers. These are lives: the confused and angry child who acts out in school, the mother who is stretched too thin and trying to keep things normal when nothing feels normal, and the father who wrestles with guilt in his cell, wondering if his child will remember him when he’s finally free.

The length of a father’s incarceration only deepens the wound. Ten years. Fifteen. More. Entire childhoods pass by. First steps, first words, birthdays, graduations — all experienced secondhand through stories or not at all. And during the holidays, the pain of that absence grows sharper.

I’ve heard it too many times: “Well, they shouldn’t have done the crime.” But let me ask you this: What about the child? What about the family left behind, navigating the shame, the questions, the brokenness? This isn’t just about personal accountability. This is about generational impact. Children of incarcerated parents are more likely to struggle with anxiety, depression, and even incarceration themselves. The holidays, a time meant for hope, can instead feel like an annual reminder of what’s been lost.

And it’s not just the absence. It’s also the stigma. Families of incarcerated fathers often feel isolated, as if society sees them as guilty by association. They carry the weight of the shame, the whispered judgments, the side-eyes in the grocery store. And the fathers? They’re not just locked away physically; they’re emotionally walled off, too, stripped of their role in their children’s lives.

Here’s what we forget: These men are still fathers. Yes, they made mistakes. Some mistakes are so big they can’t escape the consequences. But their love for their children? A sentence does not erase that. Programs like Prison Fellowship’s Angel Tree remind us that even from behind bars, fathers can find ways to reach out, show love, and remind their kids they’re still there in spirit. It’s not everything, but it’s something. And sometimes, something is all a child needs to hold on to hope.

“The impact of incarceration during the holidays goes far beyond the prison walls,” I often say. “It touches the hearts of children, the strength of families, and the fabric of our communities. We cannot afford to let these families feel forgotten. Healing starts with recognition and compassion.”

This isn’t just a call to society. It’s a call for families, human service agencies, and communities to do better, to see these families, and to support them. Agencies serving fathers and families need to prioritize incarcerated fathers, especially during the holidays. It’s about more than sending holiday cards or facilitating video calls, though those are important. It’s about creating systems that keep these fathers connected to their children year-round, building relationships that outlast prison walls.

Families have a role to play, too. Write that letter. Make that call. Visit if you can. For a father in prison, knowing he hasn’t been forgotten can mean the difference between despair and hope. And for the child left behind, even a simple connection — a drawing sent to Dad or a phone call where they can say “Merry Christmas” — can be everything.

The holidays are a time for compassion, a time for grace. We don’t have to justify someone’s mistakes to recognize their humanity. This season, let’s not forget the fathers who are trying, even from behind bars, to stay present in their children’s lives. Let’s not forget the children who deserve to feel loved, supported, and connected, no matter where their dad is.

There’s an empty chair at far too many tables this year. But it doesn’t have to stay empty in our hearts. Let’s fill it with hope, effort, and the belief that connection is the greatest gift we can give.