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Boston Daily
Prisoner Blogs
New post on Prisoner Blogs at Boston Daily. What they're saying might surprise you. This is the first of a three-part series.
Prisoners Giving Back
In this time of giving I’ve been thinking about the ways prisoners show their loved ones how much their care about them. Cards are common and prisoners often spend time creating art and whatever small gifts they can muster for family. When I taught at Framingham, Dolly used to knit for her grandkids; I knew women who sold art to make money to afford to send a present beyond the bars. I have cards; I sent cards. I relish every effort someone makes who lives behind bars.
What people don’t often realize is that there are some innovative programs around the country that specialize in the very real need that prisoners have to make a difference, i.e. giving to others helps make their lives meaningful. A program I came across in Washington state offers prisoners the opportunity to repair bicycles for kids. As reported by the Associated Press on Oregon Live , they use formerly loved (used) and abandoned bikes
photo by AP/in The Seattle Times/Mike SiegeI
One of the most appealing parts of the program is that men who were convicted of heinous crimes against children want desperately to make up for their crimes through this program. While some need training to fix bikes, others come in with experience. As one man involved said, “I’m here trying to help other people. I believe in karma.”
Another well-known program where prisoners get to give back is the Prisoner Pup program at over thirteen prisons in Massachusetts. Prisoners train dogs to help people who are blind or deaf or have disabilities. They make a 12-18 month commitment ,according to the National Education for Assistance Dog Services website: The purpose is to give prisoners a real and important responsibility and to allow them to help others. According to NEADS, “Puppies spend most of their time with the primary handler going to classes, recreation areas, and dining halls.” Each puppy sleeps in his or her primary handler’s cell. Prisoners learn how to teach their puppy tasks, groom them and give them exceptional obedience skills. “Whether going to a medical appointment, the TV lounge, or the family and friends visiting room, the puppy is usually right by the handler’s side.”
Saving Lives with Shakespeare
Can you imagine teaching Shakespeare to men in solitary confinement? And by that I mean men who are actually locked in 23 out of 24 hours a day behind metal doors with only a slit to see through into the hallway? And along with that, try picturing a woman who sits in that hallway, coaching those men as they speak Shakespeare’s lines aloud talking to other men who they cannot see?
This is the mission of Laura Bates, an amazing woman who is an associate professor at Indiana University and in 2003 began teaching in Wabash Correctional in Indiana. In an article for an Indiana State U publication, Bates says “We are the only Shakespeare program in the segregated unit in solitary confinement anywhere in the world….Never before attempted….never duplicated either.”
The process according to the article: “Two officers escort each man into an individual cell in a separate unit inside segregated housing. Bates, as shown above, sits in the small hallway between eight individual cells with the imprisoned men sitting behind metal doors peering, talking and listening through open rectangular cuff ports.”
I met Laura Bates when we presented together along with others who had used Shakespeare behind bars and I was knocked out by her work. She has a book coming out in April: Shakespeare Saved My Life: Ten Years in Solitary With the Bard , so hopefully we’ll all be able to read more about her and understand this work. She focuses on one particular prisoner and hence the title. Larry felt Shakespeare saved his life.
The men Laura encounters have committed violent offenses behind bars, and thus they are sent to solitary; some have committed horrible crimes. But no prisoner is only their crime. Laura’s work points up the idea that to label people us un-redeemable belies their humanity. They are not “the worst of the worst” as often referred to in article after article. They are men who are also human beings indebted to the chance to turn their pain, loss, rage and deprivation into words. Bravo Laura.
Thanksgiving in Prison
“I’ve been thinking about all the 2.2 million people in this country who will spend this Thanksgiving behind bars. Yes, some of them have done pretty horrible things. And some of them have been away from their family for years for very good reasons. But many prisoners, the people we sentence to our darkest places — in fact, over one quarter of them according to The National Review online — are incarcerated for non-violent drug offenses. And many of them will be saying their thanks for what they are grateful for; most of it has to do with love.
I have written much and often about how prisoners are not merely their crimes, and that their humanity is what often allows them to transform themselves behind bars whether it be through reading, programs, art, deep epiphanies about themselves and/or remorse. While on the day of Thanksgiving, no prisoner gets the benefit of home, even the dysfunctional home, many prisons provide a turkey dinner with the usual trimmings. Maybe not mom’s home-made pumpkin pie, but nonetheless, pie.
Thanksgiving is rough on the families who are visiting their loved ones behind bars. Mary Gautier, Louisiana born and Nashville now, kicking around with over five albums, has a song that really hits me when I think of how hard it is for everyone in this constellation, the families and the prisoners. It’s called “Thanksgiving.” You can listen to it here.
“We stood in a long line waiting for the doors to be unlocked
Out in the cold wind, ‘round the razor wire fenced in cellblock
Young mamas with babies, sisters and other kinds of kin
At Tallulah State Prison on Thanksgiving Day, we’re waiting to get in
You gotta get here early, it don’t matter how many miles you drove
They make you wait for hours, jailers always move slow
They run names, check numbers, gravel faced guards they don’t smile
Grammy and me in line, silently waiting single file
Thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families
Road weary pilgrims who show up faithfully
Sometimes love ain’t easy, sometimes love ain’t free
My grammy looks so old now, her hair is soft and white like the snow
Her hands tremble when they frisk her from head to her toes
They make her take her winter coat off then they frisk her again
When they’re done she wipes their touch off her dress, stands tall and heads in
Thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families
Road weary pilgrims who show up faithfully
Even though it ain’t easy, even though it ain’t free
Sometimes love ain’t easy, I guess love ain’t free”
Mary isn’t alone in thinking about prisoners on Thanksgiving. A lot of us who have worked behind bars turn our thoughts to those who can’t go home. Jack Cashill, an Emmy-award winning filmmaker and producer, shared a letter online from a prisoner. It doesn’t surprise me one bit — the gratefulness expressed. But I’d say it’s a lesson for many of us who complain about the minutia of life (me), and even those of us (me) who are sad on Thanksgiving without our parents to share our joy and sorrow. Most of us need to stop and see how much being in the moment and appreciating what we have is a way to heal our hurts. Of course, prisoners learn this too. Here’s a snippet of the part of the letter that I like best. So thanks to Steven Nary who wrote it in Avenal State Prison in California:
“For everyone who has ever come into my life, no matter how long our interaction was or whether it was inside or outside of prison, I am grateful for each moment, which is a gift in itself and a blessing…”
On a day where we think both about what we’ve lost and what we’ve found, let’s remember those behind bars.