Guest Blog: Annie Buckley – Oasis in the Desert

By Annie Buckley

This is the first in a series of four blog posts for the Justice Arts Coalition, excerpted from the series, “Art Inside,” published by Los Angeles Review of Books. The full series is available here. Stay tuned for the second blog in Buckley’s JAC series, which will be posted on Friday, October 2nd.

For this series of posts, I am focusing on our Arts Facilitator Training (AFT) program with Prison Arts Collective (PAC). This is a program that is close to my heart as I developed it with the goal of empowering and giving agency to the hundreds of men and women that we are privileged to work with in prisons across California to develop and teach their own art classes. Initially, I fused elements of my art education classes at the university with skills to support leadership in cultivating creative communities in prisons. Since then, the AFT has evolved with input from peer facilitators in the prisons, my colleagues in PAC, and faculty and students in the four California State University campuses where we have PAC chapters. I am thrilled that the students in our first AFT program have been teaching weekly classes to their peers for the past four years. In addition, at least three have been released and two of them are working full time as teachers of rehabilitative programs in prisons.

photo by Peter Merts

Oasis in the Desert

Excerpted from Art Inside #5: Facilitator Training, 10/16/2017

It is 120 degrees out and yet the locals continue to insist that this is a cool July. I stopped noticing the constant sheen of sweat shortly after arriving here with team of student teachers to help lead a new class on the fundamentals of teaching art.

Our participants — and future teachers — are men that are incarcerated in two local prisons. They will eventually develop their own arts courses and teach their peers while cultivating creative community in the prison. On this day, we are midway through the 60-hour training designed to empower them to teach what they have learned, many while locked up, about painting, drawing, music, and poetry.

photo by Peter Merts

At this particular prison, our class was placed in an area designed for vocational training. Because of this, and the high security level of the institution, the students were strip searched before each class. They could tell this saddened us and offered the kindness of shrugging off the indignity to save our feelings. Being in that room also meant that they couldn’t bring any of their art or writing. So, until this day, we had nearly completed the 60-hour training without seeing any of their artwork.

On this special day, we were given access to another space where the men were allowed to bring their art: paintings, poems, cardboard sculptures, ink drawings, songs. We oohed and aaahed over detailed pencil drawings, paintings made of coffee, cardboard helicopters to rival model ones, and colorful animated characters. After a moving performance by the band, it was time for readings. We heard the most ingenious rhyming fairy tale, a moving apology letter that left many misty-eyed, poems that our musicians wanted to set to song, stories that opened up a window into someone’s life, and reflections on art and imagination and life.

photo by Peter Merts, courtesy of the California Arts Council
photo by Peter Merts

The last reader was the youngest in our class. He was tall but baby faced. His piece was about expectations and implored listeners to find their voice: “Let it be your answer. Let it be your truth.” When he was done, an older student said with admiration, “You’re a philosopher, man!” Another mentioned that it was really hard to write in the second person and that he had done it so well. “What’s that?” The young philosopher asked with genuine curiosity. Later, I saw them talking. The youngster wanted to know more, saying, “I want to sign up for your class.”

photo by Peter Merts

This is what I love about this program. We provide tools but they build the house. In a few months, these men who may not have spoken to one another on the yard before this, begin to see one another as artists and mentors. Over time, this is reflected back at them through their peers, and they begin to see that in themselves.


About the Author:

Annie Buckley is a professor and the director of the School of Art + Design at San Diego State University and the founding director of Prison Arts Collective (PAC), a project of Arts in Corrections, a partnership between the California Arts Council and California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. PAC provides multidisciplinary arts programming and peer facilitator trainings in 12 prisons across California through an innovative partnership between California State Universities and state prisons. Buckley’s writing on contemporary art is published in Artforum, Art in America, The Huffington Post, and she is a contributing editor to the Los Angeles Review of Books, where you can find the full series of “Art Inside.”

See JAC’s recent Teaching Artist Spotlight for more about Annie Buckley and her work with the Prison Arts Collective.

About the Photographer: 

Peter Merts has been photographing California’s prison art programs for 15 years; his images have appeared in the New York Times, The Economist, and the Huffington Post. He co-published, with Dr. Larry Brewster, a book on the topic—Paths of Discovery: Art Practice and Its Impact in California Prisons (2nd ed)—and is on the advisory board of the Prison Arts Collective.

Teaching Artist Spotlight: Annie Buckley

We recently talked with Annie Buckley, our newest addition to the Teaching Artist Spotlight series. Annie Buckley is a professor and the director of the School of Art + Design at San Diego State University and the founding director of Prison Arts Collective (PAC), a project of Arts in Corrections, a partnership between the California Arts Council and California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. PAC provides multidisciplinary arts programming and peer facilitator trainings in 12 prisons across California through an innovative partnership between California State Universities and state prisons. Buckley’s writing on contemporary art is published in Artforum, Art in America, The Huffington Post, and she is a contributing editor to the Los Angeles Review of Books.

Buckley has written a series of  four blog posts for The Justice Arts Coalition excerpted from the series, “Art Inside,” published by Los Angeles Review of Books. The four blogs will be posted every other Friday starting September 18th.  

photo by Peter Merts

JAC: How did you become involved in this work? What was your path to where you are today?

AB: I have always loved art and had a passion for social justice so I have worked at the intersections of these in various ways for most of my life. In bringing art to prisons, specifically, I am inspired by my mother, who was a volunteer in juvenile detention for nearly 20 years, and by her friend and mentor, Gregory Boyle, S.J., the founder of Homeboy Industries.

JAC: In considering the work of your own organization, what is unique about the programming you have been creating?

AB: I think what is most unique about Prison Arts Collective is that we have a comprehensive arts facilitator training in the prisons to empower and support those with arts experience to teach others. We started this program in 2015 and our first graduates have been leading weekly classes in the prisons since then, cultivating creative community within the institution. We visit monthly to offer mentorship and support. I remember on one of those visits, I happened to be in the hallway when a student arrived late. He looked flustered so I asked him if I could help and his reply made me smile, “Oh no,” he said, rushing past, ‘I’m looking for my teacher.” It didn’t matter that I came from outside, or taught at a university, or any of the other markers we might assume grant authority to help or answer questions. He was looking for his teacher, the person that guided him and had formed a bond for him to grow as a musician. I loved that moment.

I think the second thing that is unique to our program is that our teaching teams are collaborative and include university students as well as alumni, interns, staff, and faculty. Rather than one expert or master teacher, we are community-based and our model integrates a variety of experiences and voices. Each term, we try to offer at least two different courses per site so that we always give our participants the opportunity to make a choice. We want to encourage them to have a voice and to have agency in the process as much as possible within the many restrictions.

JAC: How have your students impacted your teaching practices and even your own art? What has been the most rewarding part of your experience working with incarcerated artists? 

AB: It is really hard to say what is most rewarding about teaching in prisons and growing a program to support others to do this incredibly rewarding work. I feel strongly that it is a gift to be able to teach and build community with individuals that are so largely forgotten. I have met so many amazing people in the prisons that inspire me and help me to be a better person and teacher.

Another thing I have gained is a reconnection to the real meaning and purpose of art. I have two degrees in art and have written for international art publications so I am very familiar with the contemporary art world. What drew me to this work is my passion to expand access to the arts for all yet what I gained is a renewed connection to art as a transformative human experience.

JAC: As you know, the Justice Arts Coalition is focused on ways in which art can connect those in the prison system with those on the outside. How has this relationship been jeopardized by COVID-19? How have you been keeping connections active during this time?

AB: Prison Arts Collective is a project of Arts in Corrections, a partnership between the California Arts Council and California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. We are fortunate that AIC allowed its programs to continue in alternative formats. The last day we went inside the prisons was March 12, which was a couple weeks before the institutions stopped programs from going inside. But we felt it was important to protect our team and our participants so we paused in-person programming. Right away, we started planning what we could do instead.

Collectively, our teaching team has made and sent in over 1,200 packets to participants in 11 prisons and we are currently creating new packets for the fall term. In addition, we collaborated with faculty and outside artists as well as our teaching team to create a new video series called Outside:Inside Productions. We have already created nine videos in this series and are working on two more. Finally, one of our newest volunteers, Sabrina, a student at CSU Los Angeles, developed a partnership with a local radio station so that we could create radio content, both for those in the prisons to listen to as well as for people on the outside to connect with this work.

JAC: As we navigate this unprecedented time across our national landscape, both concerning Covid-19 and anti-racism protests, what challenges have emerged in your work with artists, specifically those who are impacted by the criminal justice system?

It probably sounds like a corny soundbite but I think what stands out most to me now is not the many obstacles we face but the opportunities for evolution. Systemic racism is not new but the new national dialogue is powerful. How can we leverage this to create real and lasting change? The pandemic is tragic on so many levels and for so many people all across the globe, including being a nightmare for those in captivity, so there is no way to put a positive spin on it. My hope is that we use this experience to evolve as a society. In my own life, I have learned and grown more in my darkest moments of grief and illness. I hope we do the same as a world today.

JAC: As our art networks look to the future, how do you hope the pandemic, as well as this period of protest, will alter the public’s understanding of the justice system?

AB: I hope that people awaken to the reality that we are interconnected. There is no us and them, just us. The sooner people recognize the depth of that truth and we develop systems — including education, justice, healthcare, and more — based on that idea, the better off we will be as a society. The justice system is one of many interconnected systems that have led to mass incarceration. We need to address the poverty and wealth gap and give all people a living wage. We need to ensure that no one in this incredibly wealthy nation is without access to a home. I would like to see what our country could be if we re-designed our systems with an ‘us’ not ‘us and them’ mentality, with the sense that when we lift up one, we lift us all up.

JAC: The Justice Arts Coalition, as it grows, will continue to seek out and implement a vision of how to better support teaching artists. In your view, what does a supportive network need to include?

AB: The idea of a national coalition is exciting and powerful. I like how we can learn from one another. When I teach socially-engaged art at the University, I always ask students if they believe that art can change the world. Many say yes, but not all. When I teach art in the prisons and ask if art can change the world, there is never any question; literally every single incarcerated person I have asked this to has said yes. This is power. And I believe that we are more powerful when we work together. I am excited to see what we might grow from these shared conversations and how we might evolve our practices to educate and empower not only those behind bars, but those outside, too, to imagine and ultimately build a more just world.

photo by Peter Merts

Teaching Artist Spotlight: William Head on Stage (WHoS)

We recently talked with Kathleen Greenfield (they/them, she/her), Kate Rubin (she/her), and Emma Zabloski (she/her), our newest additions to the Teaching Artist Spotlight series. In addition to their work with the Justice Arts Coalition, they are also teaching artists and theatrical collaborators with William Head on Stage (WHoS) at William Head Institution in Victoria, BC.


William Head on Stage Theatre Society (WHoS): 

WHoS is the only prisoner-run prison theatre company in all of North America that invites the public into a federal institution to experience their shows.  WHoS has been creating shows for the public for the last 39 years at William Head Institution, which you will find tucked away on the windy coast in the forests of Metchosin, a 35-minute drive from Victoria, BC.   Members of the public may buy a ticket, enter through prison security to the prison gymnasium theatre and watch the fall play performed by the prisoners.

SNAFU Society of Unexpected Spectacles:

SNAFU has been collaborating with WHoS since 2010 and has co-produced 5 productions in the past decade.  SNAFU artists create live theatre, puppet theatre, and dance theatre, based in Victoria, BC and touring across Canada to theatres and festivals.  SNAFU is led by artists Kathleen Greenfield and Ingrid Hansen, who also teach speciality workshops in theatre, puppetry, playbuilding, viewpoints, and physical comedy.


JAC: How did you become involved in this work? What was your path to where you are today?

Kate Rubin: I had been working in the Greater Victoria area as a professional teaching theatre artist and always was interested in social justice issues and had worked on numerous projects over the years with other populations. I had heard about the work at WHoS from my colleagues and was curious and interested to be involved in some way. I was cast along with 2 other women for Macbeth in 2006 and have been involved with WHoS for the past 15 years in capacity as a performer, director, writer, facilitator, mentor and have helped launch initiatives within the prison like the Q & A, the first WHoS symposium, building a larger network of teaching artists, a screening and interview process for teaching artists wanting to work with WHoS, and general support of the men and the company in various ways that present themselves. I have spoken at a couple of conferences now about WHoS and am passionate about sharing the 40 year legacy of WHoS. 

Kathleen Greenfield: I went to see my first WHoS play when I was still a student at the University of Victoria in 2004. Over the years, many of my colleagues were hired to either direct, perform or design shows with WHoS and I would attend but my focus is on creating new work, and WHoS was working with classic published plays.

In 2010, I went to see CHALK which was devised and directed by my (new at the time) creative partner, Ingrid Hansen. This show blew my mind for all of its creativity. The entire show was non-verbal, movement-based and created from the stories of the incarcerated participants, but I wanted to make sure that I was confident enough with my boundaries and wise enough to share some skills before I stepped into the Justice Arts world.

In 2013, I was at the point in my career where I finally felt ready to devote my  time to a WHoS production. I was really inspired by the creation and storytelling work that the company was starting to produce with CHALK and Fractured Fables: A Prison Puppet Project. In 2014, after participating in some skills-building workshops to get my feet wet, I collaborated with Kate Rubin to write (and perform in) Time Waits for No One in 2014. I have since Directed two new plays, performed in three and collaborated in writing the five new scripts. SNAFU Society of Unexpected Spectacles has co-produced 5 plays with the WHOS board of directors since 2010. 

Emma Zabloski: I have always been interested in art-making that is rooted in community building and co-creation of experience.  My first experience with WHoS was going to see the production CHALK in 2010.  This was my first encounter with the prison system and it was an incredibly humanizing and humbling experience.  I was invited to join the artist team as a performer and facilitator by Kathleen Greenfield for the 2016 show, Sleeping Giants.  The experience was transformative and opened my heart to the power of art in carceral contexts.  Although I now live in Toronto, I have travelled back to facilitate movement and choreography sessions with the program and was slated to direct this year’s fall production, but… you know, Covid.  Since being in Toronto, I have also facilitated theatre workshops at a new drama program at Grand Valley Institution for Women.  These experiences inspired me to pursue social work studies, and I now have an MSW degree.  Moving forward, I am excited to continue exploring the intersections between art, social justice, and healing.

WHoS, Prison Puppet Project, 2013 - Photo By Jam Hamidi
WHoS, Prison Puppet Project, 2013 – Photo By Jam Hamidi

JAC: In considering the work of your own organization, what is unique about the programming you have been creating?

KG: I feel that one of the most unique characteristics of WHoS is the fact that it is not a program that is regulated by Correctional Service Canada (CSC). It is a not-for-profit society run by a board of directors that are all incarcerated at William Head.  The WHoS board of incarcerated participants get a chance to develop or practice skills in production and project management and liaise with the outside artists, hiring us directly. It is also unique because we get to bring outside audiences  inside the institution to experience the performance.  And these are FULL PRODUCTIONS with sound, lights, costumes, and a set all built by incarcerated folks. 

KR: WHoS has been an organic creation, initiated and led by many people inside and out for the past 40 years and has had a very unique and varied life of its own. It is valued highly by the men involved (past and present), the larger community, and by many people in both the arts and corrections and social justice worlds. It has remained alive through different political and social upheavals and challenges, and every warden so far has seen the value in the men continuing to run and keep this company going. In the past 10 years, we have been mostly devising original work with the men and building the capacity of the company,  in the hope of providing more opportunity for the men inside to engage in all the aspects of building a show.  We are also building the capacity of those of us working in this field through trainings, workshops, discussions, forums, and building our own form of creative activism within the institutional systems that we work. 

WHoS Rehearsal Photo 1- The Crossroads, 2018 - Photo by Ingrid Hansen
WHoS Rehearsal Photo – The Crossroads, 2018 – Photo by Ingrid Hansen

JAC: What has been the most rewarding part of your experience working with incarcerated artists?

EZ: I am grateful for the openings.  Where I get to witness residents take creative risks and step into their vulnerability.  Where unlikely connections and relationships are made.  Where I am constantly being surprised and having my assumptions challenged.  And where we get to collectively resist an oppressive system through the power of making art.

KG: I like the parts where I get to listen and then accept stories that I hear as little gifts. I like to collect these gifts and mush them all together into a collective story, puzzling the pieces  into one cohesive performance. I love discovering participants’  secret talents that maybe someone told them they weren’t good at as a kid. I like to keep an eye out when we are playing drama games, freewriting, singing songs or dancing  to see what gifts people don’t even know they have, and then push them just hard enough to feel confident to share it with each other and eventually an audience. I find this process to be very organic and something hard to teach to other facilitators … like it is my own special skill. 

KR:

  •  Seeing the effects this work has on an individual, be it a momentary delight or release, a small behavioral change, or a complete lifestyle change where an individual may never reoffend
  • Watching the delight and freedom of expression that comes in the moment to moment creative work and seeing the confidence of everyone involved grow as we build the play and then perform in front of many audiences over 5 weeks
  • Witnessing the moments of discovery and mutual understanding that can develop between the men and audience members in the 20-minute Q & A period after the show
  • Experiencing and learning about different cultures represented by the men in jail, including a large Indigenous population. In Canada, there is a high proportion of  Indigneous peoples in federal and provincial institutions representing the racial intolerance, inequity and racist beginnings of our county .  We have felt inspired to help create a dialogue about tolerance and inclusivity within the WHoS cohort.
  • Helping to build understanding and tolerance within the institution (staff and security) about the work we do with the men

JAC: As you know, the JAC is focused on ways in which art can connect those in the prison system with those on the outside. How has this relationship been jeopardized by COVID-19? How have you been keeping connections active during this time?

KG: For almost 40 years, we have produced a large-scale production of with up to 30 incarcerated cast members and roughly 2000 public audience members over 5 weeks  in a converted gymnasium.  This will be the first time in 39 years where we will not present a play in the fall. We spend almost half the year writing, improvising, workshopping, choreographing and supporting the incarcerated men. This year, we will not be allowed into William Head until maybe November (but most likely January) and so we will not be able to develop the  bond that theatre inevitably creates.

BUT…we are working on the logistics of an Audio Project that we can share with a larger network of Prison Artists and Teaching Artists. We are also keeping Inside Artists engaged with the WHoS Great Creative Exchange.

When Covid [COVID-19] hit and theaters closed, SNAFU was offered an opportunity to be part of a socially-distanced live-theatre festival called SKAMpede. With a bit of funding, we were able to pay two returned citizens to perform alongside two teaching artists. It has been part of our mission for a while now to form an outside performance troupe to support Returned Citizens in the community. Now we have concentrated time to envision what an outside performance troupe would look like, and how we can carry out projects that might provide some financial support when jobs are hard to find. Our first performance was a success and we are so excited to see where these small performances in the community will take us.

EZ: Through Covid, we have been working hard to stay connected and offer SOMETHING to residents to help shake the Covid blues.  We have heard from residents that morale is low and tensions are high inside the institution right now.  Residents’ lives are even more restricted than normal with less contact and access to programs.

As artists, we  would normally be at William Head offering weekly creative workshops.  In lieu of this, we  have been developing a Creative Exchange program over the past couple of months,  which  finally launched mid-August!  We are hoping this project will help us stay connected while providing a creative outlet for residents.  Creative prompts (writing and visual art exercises) will be sent to inside and outside artists every two weeks.  We will then swap our artwork with each other and share our thoughts through writing.  We are incredibly lucky to have a program officer and WHoS board members at the institution to help facilitate the process.  We have been able to stay connected through email and phone meetings once or twice a month and collaborate on adapting  our workshops and theatre production this year.

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WHoS 2019 The Emerald City Project – Promo Project – Photo by Sam Redmond

JAC: As we navigate this unprecedented time across our national landscape, both concerning Covid-19 and anti-racism protests, what challenges have emerged in your work with artists, specifically those who are impacted by the criminal justice system?

KR:

  • We have not been able to get inside the prison since the beginning of March.
  • We have had very minimal connection with the men we know through some phone calls and no connection to any potential new residents interested in joining WHoS.
  • The institution staff have had hours cut back and the men at William Head Institution are also very limited in having any extracurricular activity.
  • Our production work with the men this year would have had us in the prison once a week through the spring and then starting in mid June, we would normally be going in 2-3 times a week to devise the fall play.  By mid August,  we would be inside 4x a week, have a script drafted, and would be rehearsing and building sets, costumes, lighting,etc. 
  • Not being able to work with the men and develop a team means that we are relying on one WHoS board member and a staff member to convey anything we want to impart about possible creative ventures during Covid. 
  • The chances for exclusion are high because we can’t guarantee that all communities within the institution are being reached and we have no real way of addressing that from the outside.
  • Any networking with colleagues is mainly done by Zoom calls and these can be challenging, especially in large groups, although they at least provide some connection and support

KG: It’s challenging to not have a chance to communicate with our WHoS participants face- to-face. To try to organize and  facilitate drama workshops without direct contact with participants makes you realize how important body language, facial expressions, and inflection are when we are creating theatre. A lot of anxieties come up when we encourage participants to be vulnerable with us and with each other. When we are not present to respond to vulnerable moments and realizations, it can be discouraging. We have an “everyone welcome” policy in our workshop spaces, but it is difficult to ensure that the group is not being divided by race, faith, class or status within the prison when we are not in the space.  It is challenging to not be inside, actively ensuring that everyone is being welcomed to participate in our Creative Exchange Project.  So much of our work is “lead by example.”

WHoS Rehearsal Photo 2 - The Crossroads, 2018 - Photo by Ingrid Hansen
WHoS Rehearsal Photo – The Crossroads, 2018 – Photo by Ingrid Hansen

JAC: What action do you feel is necessary to alleviate the safety concerns that incarcerated people face, in light of the Coronavirus crisis?

EZ: Luckily, there has not been a Covid outbreak at William Head.  The institution is starting to talk about what opening up to volunteers and teaching artists again might look like.  We don’t anticipate being able to enter the institution until October or November at the earliest.  There will no doubt  be strict institutional procedures in place when this does happen, but I think it is also  important to keep having the conversation as a team and consider what the risks are for residents.  We have also heard from the institution that they are exploring the idea of video conferencing as a teaching platform, which is new (and exciting!) territory.   

KR:

  • Strong checks and balances allowing people into the institution 
  • Temperatures taken
  • Covid testing 
  • Masks worn 
  • Hand washing 
  • 2 metre distancing. *We would normally go into the prison with as many as 12 outside artists at a time when we are working on a production.  Now, we will most likely begin with  2 teaching artists at a time. I say two because I think we still need to support each other in the work as teaching artists, and it is also important that the men have the option to creatively connect with different teaching artists.  The population at William Head is currently divided up into three bubbles.  So one idea would be to work with men that are already in a bubble together, meaning that teaching artists would just need to keep the 2 meter distance and participants can be freed up in their theatre work with each other. 
  • Not work with any immune compromised or extremely vulnerable men * Some kind of screening potentially to make that decision

JAC: The Justice Arts Coalition, as it grows, will continue to seek out and implement a vision of how to better support teaching artists. In your view, what does a supportive network need to include?

KG: I really like the hands-on workshops with smaller groups that connect Teaching Artists in a practical way. I learn so much more from others through working than I do with talking.

KR: It needs to include:

  • Dialogue and exchange amongst people working with incarcerated individuals,  like the Wednesday JAC meetings
  • Linking people to different programs and institutions through the database and JAC email stream 
  • Support with creating and building sustainable funding for the different work we all do
  • Online conferences and hopefully live conferences once there is a vaccine
  • Podcast 
  • Workshops 
  • Linking mentors with emerging teaching artists.

EZ: I really appreciate the opportunity to share curriculum and program ideas and successes with each other!

WHoS 2019 The Emerald City Project - Promo Project 1 - Photo by Sam Redmond birds 0
WHoS 2019 The Emerald City Project – Promo Project – Photo by Sam Redmond

JAC: As our art networks look to the future, how do you hope the pandemic, as well as this period of protest, will alter the public’s understanding of the justice system?

KR: Given a global pause unlike anything before, I hope we can take the time to reevaluate and make the beginning changes necessary to shift how incarcerated people are treated, and in particular to validate the transformative power of the arts to help build esteem, understanding, tolerance and many basic skills sets.

EZ: I am really hoping that the cracks in our systems have been revealed to the point where it will be unacceptable to “return to normal”.   It is hard to ignore racial injustices right now because protests and calls to action are happening on such a large scale.  We are seeing it in the momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement, in calls to defund the police, in conversations about abolishing prisons.  Structural changes of this amplitude take time.  But I do hope that folks are taking this opportunity to at least imagine what an alternative landscape might look like.

As for our artist team, I hope that we can continue to grapple with the injustices of structural racism and systemic oppression, and critically examine what our roles are in the carceral space.  Art can be an incredibly powerful tool for collectively and critically exploring issues, and for bridging divides between different groups.

KG: I really do believe that WHoS (and the structure of how WHoS operates) will weather this storm and produce a wonderful new project for their 40th Anniversary. I already have members of the public emailing to find out more about what WHoS has planning for this year and the next. It is very difficult, at this time, to see how the recent period of protest has affected the population of William Head, but it has been on my mind in every short phone conversation I have had with our staff liaison and with the leader of the WHoS group. 

Racist behaviours and power imbalances that I have witnessed working inside of William Head have always been subtle. When I have no way to engage with the marginalized groups inside, it becomes very difficult to shed light on microaggressions that are, for sure, happening. When we are finally able to meet again, I would like to start off with creating a contract with the men, identifying some of the micro-aggressions that take place and challenging us all to “be better”, instead of reporting micro-aggressions to the Prison Administration as I think this would just lead to a cycle of policy, punishment and defensive responses from WHoS’ leadership. 

WHoS, Prison Gym turned Theatre,Time Waits for No One 2014, Photo By Jam Hamidijpg
WHoS, Prison Gym turned Theatre, Time Waits for No One 2014 – Photo by Jam Hamidi

JAC: What led you to JAC, and how has your experience with JAC served your own work?

KR: I had heard of JAC through some colleagues and had seen its acronym through the California Corrections conference, and had been curious about it.  A colleague told me she had just joined the Wednesday group in early April and I joined up given a need for connection to others doing this work.  We are in the midst of planning a second conference symposium and it seemed like a great thing to do at this time of Covid to connect up with others who do similar work. I told other members in the WHoS team and a number have joined up including Kathleen and Emma.

KG: Right before COVID struck in March, I had reached out to a small collective of WHoS facilitators to discuss the idea of organizing a networking event to commemorate the 40th anniversary of WHoS and also host a convergence of Justice Arts practitioners from all over the world to share skills, practices and experiences. Come on, don’t you all want to come visit us in the most beautiful place on earth?

We started weekly meetings to discuss what this event would look like and what networks already existed to help make this event a reality. It still might be a huge risk to plan a large-scale in-person conference for November of 2021 based on what governments are saying about travel restrictions, but maybe in 2022? We are still doing all sorts of fun work archiving 40 years of history, collecting stories of WHoS alumni and past teaching artists.  BUT, one of the most exciting outcomes of our collective meetings has been connecting with the JAC network and learning about all of the work that Teaching Artists are doing to ensure that justice arts folks remain connected

EZ: I was invited to join JAC by other members of WHoS.  It has been exciting and inspiring to tap into such a large network of prison artists. I had no idea this existed!  Since JAC is mostly U.S. based, there are some contextual differences for us as Canadians.  But it has nonetheless been an incredible resource.   I have joined the JAC Podcast team as a core organizer.  Through this, I am learning so much about conceptualizing and planning digital projects, including receiving mentorship from a podcast producer.  These are all skills I plan to take back to William Head this fall/winter as we develop our own digital project with participants.

WHoS, Time Waits for No One, 2014 dance PHOTO by Jam Hamidi
WHoS, Time Waits for No One 2014, Dance – Photo by Jam Hamidi

Kathleen Greenfield (they/them, she/her)

Kathleen  lives and collaborates on the territories of the WSÁNEĆ, Lkwungen & Wyomilth people. As Co-Artistic Director of SNAFU, Kathleen has directed the premiere productions of Little Orange Man, Kitt & Jane and Interstellar Elder. In 2013, Kathleen joined the artistic team of William Head on Stage Prison Theatre as a performer, facilitator and writer. In 2019, Kathleen devised and directed The Emerald City Project, co-produced by SNAFU and WHOS.

Kate Rubin (sher/her)

Kate Rubin is an independent teaching theatre artist in Victoria, British Columbia and has worked over the past 30 years with many theatre companies and organizations as a performer, director, facilitator and coach. She initiated and ran her own theatre studio for 23 years and in the past 15 years has also worked in the capacity as a performer, director and teacher/mentor with William Head on Stage Theatre Company at William Head Federal Institution. 

Emma Zabloski (she/her)

Emma is a theatre creator, arts educator, and youth worker.  With her company Zopyra Theatre, she specializes in playful, site-specific, and interactive performance.  Emma is a facilitator and performer with prison theatre project William Head on Stage, and has delivered workshops with Theatre of the Beat at Grand Valley Institution for Women.  She recently completed her MSW degree from the University of Toronto.  Emma loves sewing clothes, dancing flamenco, and soaking up nature time!


For more information on WHoS and SNAFU, please visit:

William Head on Stage: https://whonstage.weebly.com

SNAFU Society of Unexpected Spectacles: https://www.snafudance.com

 

 

 

Teaching Artist Spotlight: Anderson Smith

We recently talked with Anderson Smith, our newest addition to the Teaching Artist Spotlight series, and one of the newest members of the Justice Arts Coalition Board of Directors. Dr. Smith has a strong commitment to social justice, equity, and inclusion while supporting ways to question and change inequitable societal norms. Working with adults in and out of prison has been personal for him, since he has directly felt the impacts of incarceration on his own sister and father. Anderson speaks on the current effects of protest and pandemic on carceral settings, the role of creativity and reflection during this time period, and the ways in which he believes the intersection of art and justice might help to both foster change and usher in light to our communities.

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Dr. Anderson P. Smith, Ph.D.

JAC: As we navigate this unprecedented time across our national landscape, both concerning Covid-19 and anti-racism protests, what challenges have emerged in your work with artists, specifically those who are impacted by the criminal justice system?

AS: It has been extremely challenging for me because I have been a Teaching Artist with Rehabilitation Through the Arts since 2015; however, I had to take a break from facilitating while I was working on my dissertation. This summer would have been my first time back from a year-long hiatus. So, of course when the word got out that no one would be allow in, I was disappointed, but also optimistic. This pandemic has provided a stillness to where we are able to take a step back from our craft to figure out new and exciting ways to be impactful. Now I have shifted the focus from teaching in prison to teaching other facilitators on creative ways to teach by incorporating spoken word poetry into their lesson plans.

JAC: What action do you feel is necessary to alleviate the safety concerns that incarcerated people face, in light of the Coronavirus crisis?

AS: I think that people should practice social distancing as best as they could, but that is obviously difficult for people living in close quarter with each other. If possible, get as much air and sunlight as you can. This is just one layer of the issue, in my opinion. A much deeper layer that many are not talking about is: mental health. This is a period where I feel people should write, and share with each other the most because everyone is experiencing and coping with the pandemic differently. We should use this moment in time to slow down and see in what ways we can learn from each other.

JAC: As you know, the JAC is focused on ways in which art can connect those in the prison system with those on the outside. How has this relationship been jeopardized by COVID-19? How have you been keeping connections active during this time?

AS: This question I feel is similar to the first in that the most immediate relationship that has been jeopardized is that in-person, I could see the white in your eyes, connection; however, through program such as Zoom, I’m able to speak with other facilitators and use this time for us to pool our skills and resources to be most impactful when we are allowed to return to in-person facilitation.

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JAC: The JAC, as it grows, will continue to seek out and implement a vision of how to better support teaching artists. In your view, what does a supportive network need to include?

ASA supportive network should have the following (in no particular order):

1) Tangible resources for TA’s to reference. These resources should include everything from tips on engaging participants, to sample lesson plans, to book recommendations by other TA’s such as Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed and Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow, to name a few…
2) Town Hall meetings is another big one for me. TA’s need to be able to speak with one another organically so that the free flow of ideas could occur. This is also a great way to problem solve and debrief.
3) Support could also come in the form of recognition. How are we celebrating those that
volunteer their time, body and emotion? This is certainly a labor of love and at times could be very draining work.

I’m sure I could think of a lot more, but these are my top three.

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JAC: What has been the most rewarding part of your experience working with incarcerated artists?

AS: I get to see first-hand raw talent and it is nothing short of amazing. I am almost envious of the time that they have to perfect their craft. What is perhaps most rewarding is to see a writing prompt develop into a full-blown poem or story. I get to see thoughts become tangible things.

JAC: As our art networks look to the future, how do you hope the pandemic, as well as this period of protest, will alter the public’s understanding of the justice system?

AS: I am hopeful that this period in history would remind people simply of humanity and the value of life.

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JAC: How did you become involved in this work? What was your path to where you are today?

AS: The topic of mass incarceration is clearly a personal one for me, since I’ve directly felt its impacts on my family. Not only was my father incarcerated in the late 1980s, ripping his presence from my life at five years old, but he was also deported back to Jamaica after serving an 18- to 25-year sentence. I met my father for the first time since his incarceration in 2013. Moreover, many of my siblings on my father’s side chose a path of crime, which led to my sister, in 2002, eventually becoming the youngest in the family with a convicted felon label. She served time as an adult while she was still a minor. I provide these details to highlight my role as an insider, aware of the effects that incarceration has on a family and on the mind; I know their pain, because I’ve lived with it. I have also seen how the system can break a spirit and make someone feel less than human. Had it not been for my mother’s constant reminders of the importance of my identity and my responsibility to society, I, too, might have shared my relatives’ fate.

JAC: What led you to JAC, and how has your experience with JAC served your own work?

AS: I’ll tell you a true story… I received my call to further action in the spring of 2018. I was taking a cab to a training session for work, and the driver asked if I was a student or a teacher. During our small talk, I revealed to the driver that I taught English in prison. That was when the conversation seemed to shift. He wanted to understand why I would waste my time teaching people that would never be able to contribute to society. He said, with a thick Middle Eastern accent, “Don’t give them hope, because you don’t create policy, and they will be angry with you, and they will say that you gave them these tools
that they could do nothing with.” Before I got out of the cab, the driver turned and said, “Don’t try to help unless you can go all the way.” That conversation was a defining moment for me, and served as a call to action. So in many ways I see JAC as a way for me to go all the way and offer all of the talent and skill I have to help do this work.

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People can learn more about Anderson’s work at:
Facebook: Anderson Smith

 

Born and raised in the Bronx, New York, Dr. Anderson P. Smith received his Ph.D. in English Education from Columbia University. He has taught creative writing in both medium and maximum-security prisons in New York, as well as New York City’s main jail complex, Rikers Island. He holds a Master’s in Philosophy and Master’s in Education for the Teaching of English, and a Master’s in Fine Arts for Creative Writing, with a Bachelor’s degree in Communications. As an insider, aware of the effects that incarceration has on a family and on the mind, he understands their pain, because he’s lived with it. His research agenda explores ways in which literature can be in service to people with criminal conviction histories. Anderson was a 2018-2019 Beyond the Bars Fellow, and serves as a Teaching Artist with Rehabilitation Through The Arts (RTA). He can be reached via email at  aps2180@tc.columbia.edu.

Teaching Artist Spotlight: Elia Enid Cadilla

We recently talked with Elia Cadilla, our newest addition to the Teaching Artist Spotlight series. Elia has done research for the FILIUS Institute, part of the School of Medicine of the University of Puerto Rico (among other projects, a study about the effect of theater in the rehabilitation process of female convicts.) Cadilla teaches Acting for Film and TV at the University of Sacred Heart, and directs the Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation Theater Program since late 2001. Elia speaks on the current effects of pandemic on carceral settings, the role of the arts and radical empathy during this time period, and the ways in which she believes the intersection of creation and justice might help to improve our collective societies.

  JACAs we navigate this unprecedented time across our national landscape, what challenges have emerged in your work with artists, specifically those who are impacted by the criminal justice system?

EC: This is a complex question, with a complex answer. The main negative effect is frustration, both for the ones who are still inmates, as for the ones already free. Ironically enough, the situation – in terms of sheer survival – can be more dire for the ones out of prison than for the ones inside. The ones still incarcerated have food, lodging, medical attention. We’ve had to help out several of the women outside through our non profit, which is NGO, because many didn’t have the necessary tools to handle this situation. Many times they have to accept the most menial jobs, which don’t have benefits such as health insurance, for even though unemployment benefits have been extended for people who don’t usually receive them, some don’t have the tools to navigate the system, or lack a proper ID, and so on and so forth. On the other hand, those inside the prison are experiencing a type of incarceration they had left behind when they joined the theater group, mixed with a new restriction, which is the lack of family visits to prevent contagion. They communicate with their loved ones by phones provided by the Department but lack, of course, physical contact. However, in my communications with members of the group, I find there is a general understanding that this affects the whole population, not just them, and that these restrictions have managed to keep them healthy. They have access to information from outside, and are aware that some prisons in other states and countries have horrific stories going on. That doesn’t detract from their desire to go out and do their work, and see their families, but it makes it less hard to bear. The males of the Correctional Theater reside in a correctional institute that houses programs with certain privileges, and they’re concentrated right now in exercising to stay in acting form, and writing new ideas to work on as soon as we can resume our activities. The females reside in an area of the women’s prison, and are not as well organized as the men. This responds to patterns established in their own communities, and is one of the situations we deal with in the Program, but it’s a work in progress. The net result is that it’s easier for the men to manage their frustration at their inability to perform their job as actors and educators, but in general they are all coping, because they have something to look forward to.

JAC: What action do you feel is necessary to alleviate the safety concerns that incarcerated people face, in light of the Coronavirus crisis?

EC: All prisons should have a robust health system, access to prompt medical care, and a crisis management capacity that has been sadly lacking in many prisons, both stateside and in many countries, from what I infer from the different news leaking out of some facilities, and from what transpired in our zoom meeting this past week. As far as what action is needed, I can refer to our own experience here. The minute the magnitude of the covid threat to health was ascertained, on March 13, the Secretary of the PR Department of Correction and Rehabilitation ordered a lockdown eliminating access to all civilians not indispensable for vital operations, with an organized plan that included checking temperatures of any indispensable personnel before allowing access to the institutions, with observation and testing in place, established correctional officers’ shifts rotation, preventive isolation of any possible source of contagion, such as inmates that had to go to hospital, and upon return were quarantined until proven clean. It hasn’t been easy. A lot of people have had to work remote to ensure safe conditions for the inmates, but it has worked. All our inmates are covid-free. The 2 that pop up in statistics are two juveniles who came in already contaminated, were isolated at once and treated. If you have that kind of preventive crisis protocols, all concerns will not go away, of course; families will still want to see their loved ones and send them things, etc., but the bottom line here is we have to protect the lives of incarcerated people and stop the virus spread. A good management plan, such as instituted here in Puerto Rico, will accomplish that. Of course, nothing in the world is foolproof and we might have some cases in the future, but the situation has been managed successfully, so far.

JAC: As you know, the JAC is focused on ways in which art can connect those in the prison system with those on the outside. How has this relationship been jeopardized by COVID-19? How have you been keeping connections active during this time?

EC: It’s very difficult to balance safety with social connectivity in such a dangerous scenario as covid-19 presents for an incarcerated population; heck, it’s very difficult for the rest, non-captive population, with a great deal of stress and psychological damage taking its toll on a lot of people. The theater’s usual chores have literally, been one alleviating factor that has contributed to helping them cope. They have kept on writing, exercising, inventing alternatives to keep on with their acting through virtual strategies, etc. They recently sent me a proposal to perform by some platform through the sergeant, but it was one I had already presented to the administration. Regardless, I’m sending it also, in support of the already proposed tactic, but I’m conscious that getting it implemented will take some time. We’ve kept in touch through several avenues. One, their families. Even though not all inmates have a supporting, caring family, quite a few more than usual do when it comes to the theater group. This is because we foster family relations in different ways: we try to have relatives assist activities at open venues: theaters, for example, where anyone can attend. Usually the Secretary or the Sub Secretary (both very favorable, through the years, to the Theater Program) attends such an activity, and up to the very last one, they have authorized at the end of the performance relatives getting close to the inmates and congratulating them, hugs and expressions of affection included. The pride in families when they see their previously errant relative standing on a theater stage, applauded for their artistic work and their honesty (for the plays often depict the route that led them behind bars, and their reflection and repentance as well), have many times created a new bond of communication and respect between the inmate and his/her family. I try to keep in touch with those families that respond positively, and also with what are called “counseling friends” – people from all walks of life that decide to sponsor an inmate and give them some of emotional support and even sometimes some financial assistance for their more immediate needs, such as depositing money for their phone calls (which are very expensive, as we all know), and other urgent things. Two, our own team – the correctional officers and the penal case worker who see them during their shifts, let me know how they are coping, and advise them while at the same time letting them know what I’m doing to keep the Program going during this time. Three, I keep in touch with the commander of the institution, who is very favorable to the Theater Program (because they have an excellent behavior in and out of the institution, and help out in anything needed, plus keep their living quarters immaculate – part of their theatrical discipline) and with whom I maintain an open communication.

JAC: The JAC, as it grows, will continue to seek out and implement a vision of how to better support teaching artists. In your view, what does a supportive network need to include?

 EC: Knowledge. Powerful networking. Funding. Not necessarily in that order. Funding is probably of the first order. Regardless of our commitment, our reptilian brain commands us to survive – food, lodging, health needs are fundamental. Most artists have never been the most savvy when it comes to making money a priority (first-hand knowledge speaks). But when the urge to survive slaps you in the face, it’s a must needs that has to be addressed immediately. And there the powerful networking and the knowledge comes in. We have to be able to identify possible sources of funding. People with the knowledge of where to find accessible grants, interested philanthropic or high profile personalities that can attract them, people with knowledge to create platforms that attract a lot of traffic and hence, support through the acquisition of high visibility… I can go on, but they are the same rules I have applied as a producer to my own productions in the past, and these are all very connected. You need one to get the other, and so we reach the egg and hen dilemma. If we all pool our resources together, the goals will move forward faster.

JAC: What has been the most rewarding part of your experience working with incarcerated artists?

EC: No contest there: to see how their lives change completely. Even before they are able to go home free, they change. I’ve seen people who came from being drug dealers, prostitutes, addicts, gunners for the punto (the drug dealing business), thieves, car hijackers, you name it, become actors, artisans, writers, preachers even, for even though I do not participate myself in organized religion I do applaud the ones who look for it in order to deal with their past lives, as sometimes they need to feel God has forgiven them, and so they can forgive themselves and start anew. I keep track of many of my ex students. They send me information about their new lives, jobs, mates, homes, etc., and it’s a source of joy that we all share with each member of the support group and with other inmates that look up to the ones that have made it, and see in them that they can make it, too.

JAC: As our art networks look to the future, how do you hope the Coronavirus pandemic, as well as this period of isolation, alters the public’s understanding of the justice system?

EC: One of the jokes (we use humor a lot in the Program, in order to cope) we have shared within the Program has been: well, now a lot of people know how it feels to be trapped in a cell, to not be able to walk down the street when you feel like it. We’ve discussed how this new awareness can maybe change the way some people view incarcerated people, and perhaps influence lawmaking in some way or other. If you ask my personal opinion, I feel we have a long way ahead. The US has less than 5% of the world population and yet it has  22% of the world’s imprisoned population, far ahead of several totalitarian regimens. There is too much feeling of “otherness” towards imprisoned persons, and I firmly believe that we can change that through the arts, for I have seen it happen here in our system. When I began, almost 19 years ago (and I had already had a close look at the system though volunteer work with imprisoned youth), the officers almost uniformly disliked the Theater Program. What helped me in the beginning was that I was a well-known and respected artist, and so the manifestations tended to be polite in general, but there were also quite a few not-so-polite ones. Now (even though there’s still rejection from some quarters), we have no problem getting officers who want to be part of the Program and it’s actually a coveted position. Very soon some people who were skeptical about theater in prison saw the change in attitudes and behavior and recognized it as a positive movement towards rehabilitation and many became advocates of what the arts could do to change lives.

JAC: How did you become involved in this work? What was your path to where you are today?

EC: It’s funny how you manage to ask a question that sounds simple but its answer is anything but. It’s been a long road. I believe free will and fate coexist happily, thank you very much. Early in my career, my looks (then), would get me TV bimbo and femme fatale roles time and again, but I felt a very strong pull towards social theater and the minute a very respected theater director, Victoria Espinosa, cast me in a one-woman show as an aging, run-down prostitute (I was still very young, and so it was a fantastic characterization for me, which are my favorite roles), and got rave reviews for it, someone asked me to do it in a low-income residential project. From then on, somehow, I would get offered opportunities to work with low-income, high risk populations, both in PR and when I moved to NY. There I lived 8 years, and I found myself splitting time between acting in theater, TV and doing some film work, but giving a lot of my time to social theater. I taught at the Human Solidarity Institute (mostly to immigrants), ASPIRA – to disadvantaged youth, and the New Federal Theater, at the Henry St. Settlement Playhouse, almost always with disadvantaged populations. When we returned to PR for family reasons, after several years in high-profile work in TV stations and theaters, I eventually gravitated once again towards teaching high-risk behavior populations, and when the then Secretary of Correction and Rehabilitation looked for someone to teach at the women’s prison, it was almost by default that my name came up. The first year there were 4 teachers – 3 males actors working with the male population and I with the females. One year later I was the only one left, and wound up directing the whole project.

Elia co-authored an article for an arbitrated publication (IRB approved), about a small-scale (3 subjects sample) research study on how and why theater can be a rehabilitation tool. Below is that article.

CORRECTIONAL THEATER PROGRAM 2020

People can learn more about Elia’s work at:
Facebook: Elia Enid Cadilla
Twitter: @EliaEnidCadilla

 

Actress, producer, director and writer, Elia Enid Cadilla has represented Puerto Rico in film and theater festivals. Cadilla was Chairperson of the first Cultures of the Third World Symposium at the United Nations, and has received honors and awards for her work in several fields of endeavors. She was a member of the Board of Directors of the PR Association of Film and Audiovisual Producers for over a decade and hosted the First Puerto Rican Coproduction Forum for Ibero American Films. 

Cadilla produced and directed the TV film “Cal y Arena”, based on a story she co-wrote. She’s producing and codirecting the documentary “Cicatrices” (“Scars”), about formerly incarcerated females who have used theater as a rehabilitation tool. She also wrote the series “De carne y hueso” (Flesh and blood), inspired in the real-life stories of incarcerated men and women. 

She produced, co-wrote and directed the series “Después del Adiós” (Beyond Goodbyes), lauded by the media as the best production of this genre in Puerto Rico. She’s written, produced and directed short film series for the Office of Women Affairs, and has produced and directed films for TV, musical videos, television specials and public service advertising campaigns. She coproduced and wrote the script for “Múltiples Ellas”, breaking the Performing Arts Center’s attendance record, a statistic that remained unequaled for several years. Cadilla produced, among other projects, seven environmental education festivals (with concerts, multimedia exhibitions, recycling, reforestation and beach cleanup drives and educational conferences), and was awarded and recognized both by government agencies and private environmental organizations. 

Cadilla was a leading figure in soap operas. Her roles include costarring in TV films and the Spanish-Puerto Rican film “Agua con sal”. A recent performance was in “The Vessel”, starring Martin Sheen. She produced and starred in Cyrano de Bergerac, receiving the best actress award of the Drama Critics Circle, which also chose the play as the year’s best.