In China, Children of Inmates Face Hard Time Themselves

It is a sad story, but every child at the home has a sad story, Yang said. To bring some brightness to their lives, perhaps, almost every child is given the name "Hai," which means ocean.

Hai Bin, 13, has a patch of skin on the back of his head where another child cut his head open with a rock.

Hai Chun, 13, used to collect garbage with her father to eke out a living.

Hai Xia, 6, the youngest at the home, is the daughter of a mafia boss killed in an accident and a drug-dealing mother imprisoned for life when Hai Xia was 2.

Pan, the executive director, said that Hai Xia had nearly been adopted before she came to the home. But the Chinese couple that was interested in the girl had demanded that she never again see her mother. They thought the mother would be a bad influence.

"Chinese people have some traditional ideas, in that if your father commits crimes, your son will be a criminal, too, or the son will always follow the father's path," Yang said. "I think the discrimination is always there. Chinese people don't want to be associated with bad elements."

Both Yang and Pan earned enough in previous jobs to allow them to work for free at the home in Dalian, for the time being. The home's expenses run about $1,000 a month, with a full-time cook and a part-time accountant. Yang and Pan have just enough to cover that amount.

But there are times when they need more. When two children needed $1,250 worth of hospital surgery recently, Pan had to call local donors for help. She and her husband have sunk more than $8,000 of their own money into the home, after the founder, a family friend, became ill.

The home would have better access to international funding if it were registered with the government as a nongovernmental organization, or NGO, but the government makes the process extremely difficult -- to the point that local civil affairs officials have failed to even explain to Pan whom she must see to register.

The problem is a loophole in the law that fails to address prisoners' children. But adding to the problem is the government's year-old investigation of NGOs, especially U.S.-funded organizations suspected of having ulterior motives. Registration of new groups has come to a virtual standstill.

Nick Young, editor of China Development Brief, a Beijing-based publication that tracks China's NGOs, said state security officials have been questioning and intimidating NGO workers since news reports suggested that recent uprisings in Central Asia were heavily influenced by foreign-funded organizations.

"I think the government is concerned about foreign influence in a rather Cold War sense," Young told reporters at a recent briefing. "I think any rational observer would see that there's no real analogy between China and Kyrgyzstan and Central Asia. It's a no-brainer."

Meanwhile, Pan and Yang focus on teaching the children to withstand society's insults and to appreciate their parents, despite the parents' mistakes. They also try to prepare the children for the day their parents will be released.

It is a tough transition, as some parents struggle to find new homes and jobs. In Dalian, the children have been treated well by neighbors and local schools, but they may not face such a warm reception when they return to their families.

An Aug. 1 letter from the father of the home's newest resident, Hai Chen, 10, reached Pan last month.

"I've been in prison for three years and every moment I think of my crime I'm filled with regret. I know my crime has brought pain and harm to my family, to society and to the country," wrote the man, who is in prison for stealing a car. "I have learned that my son was not abandoned by society, but was adopted by the Children's Village. I can't do anything to thank you except to rebuild my life. Please educate my son strictly so he will never be like his father."

Researcher Jin Ling contributed to this report.