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The following is an article by one of our
teachers orignially published in the Zen
Peacemaker's Newsletter for February,
2010
http://www.zenpeacemakers.org/soc_eng_bud/articles/feb_2010/pat_coffey.htm
Prison Practice
by Pat Coffey
I vividly remember my first night of teaching. I
drove alone into the prison parking lot with
trepidation and excitement. The drizzling damp
November evening gave the lights of the facility
an especially eerie glow and the shimmering
concertina wire and block house architecture
conjured images of death camps. Experiencing some
fear and nervousness as the guards searched me
for the first time, I wound my way through the
labyrinth of buildings and six locked gates
eventually settling into my assigned room to
await my first class of 25 women. Thus began my
most rewarding experience of my fourteen years of
teaching meditation. The Blue Ridge Prison
Project began seven years ago, when the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women
invited our local
sangha, the Insight Meditation Community of
Charlottesville, to teach meditation to the
inmates of Virginia’s maximum security prison.
Several psychotherapists who worked in the mental
health wing of the prison initiated the
invitation after attending an Introductory
Meditation class offered by our sangha and
concluding that these teachings would be perfect
for the inmates. The prison houses 1200 women.
Many serve long or life terms. Getting cleared to
teach in the post 9-11 atmosphere of suspicion
took several months. The orientation session
included finger-printing and launched the
thorough background check with state and federal
authorities. During the orientation, the zealous
officer in charge explained the rules of conduct
with inmates in detail. The rules included
prohibitions against letter writing or phone
calls with current or past inmates. They forbade
prison rights or advocacy involvement and favors
for present or past inmates or their families
including passing letters, giving gifts or
offering any support. The rules extended to a
dress code standard for volunteers, a no hugging
policy and a requirement to use last names only.
More rules populated the list on the clipboard of
our orientation officer but you get the sense of
it. It was clear that any violation would spell
the end of the program. Since that first
immersion into that concrete world of America’s
correctional system, I have learned a lot. I have
received far more than I've given, inspired
by the indefatigable spirits and compassionate
hearts of these remarkable and heroic women. We
now have a “faculty” of a half dozen teachers who
staff the classes. We enjoy great fun carpooling
to the prison and teaching together…kind of a
rolling party that includes the women once we get
there. We enjoy plenty of laughter and shed a
good measure of tears as we listen, talk with and
sit with the women. Everyone who participates in
teaching comments, “I always feel better by the
end of the group.” No matter what has befallen
our meditation instructors that day, teaching at
the prison brightens their mood. The women shower
the instructors with palpable honest appreciation
and affection. Virtually every woman has a severe
trauma history. Therefore, we've discovered
that small groups work best. The smaller groups
allow for more personal attention and
opportunities for relational activities. Each
session generally begins with checking-in, a time
where everyone can express what is up for them
and the others listen and respond in support. We
offer the women many dyadic exercises that
promote mindfulness, joy and healthy supportive
relationships. Trust and a sense of safety grows
over time. Blue Ridge Prison Project teachers
learn some basic trauma theory so they better
understand the women. The teachers often offer
creative adaptations to traditional meditation
practices that mitigate against the likelihood of
triggering the intrusive symptoms associated with
PTSD. One popular adaption includes having
prisoners stand and sway in a soothing motion as
they pay attention to shifting their weight from
side to side. This swaying meditation works well
for prisoners who “can’t sit still because all
the feelings get too big.” Nowadays we run two
groups, an “old-timers group” for inmates who
graduated from the basic mindfulness program and
want to continue indefinitely and a beginners’
group. Each has about 12-15 attendees. We have
come to believe that groups over 15 are too
large. The sessions run for two hours and
generally include a mindful movement period often
led by the women, each offering their favorite
stretch or exercise to the group. We also have an
active pen-pal program with the “pals” of the
inmates coming mostly from our local sangha of
practitioners. Some wonderful relationships
between sangha members and the women have formed.
Over 200 women’s names sit on the waiting list to
enter the program. As staff, time and space
allow, we plan to add more groups. In the long
run, we hope to offer day long retreats and
establish a meditators’ residential wing where
like minded practitioners can support one
another. There are many heartwarming stories to
share. Many personal transformations take place
before our eyes. One woman, having served 15
years of a life sentence for killing her
violently abusive husband has been coming to
group since the inception of the program. She
literally has dissolved her anger, broadened her
perspective to include a deep understanding of
the nature of suffering, impermanence, and the
selfless nature of it all. Her heart
automatically and ceaselessly responds to the
suffering of others. She lives the dharma. With
her big kind heart and jovial perspective, she is
a total joy to be around. Another young woman,
unable to control her reactions, which resulted
in being repeatedly put in segregation, aka “the
hole”, learned she had choices. Through
developing some rudimentary mindfulness, she
could pause and then choose what she would say or
do. Her comportment so improved she was
transferred to a minimum security facility. We
watched another woman serving a long term for a
drug related murder transform from a threatening,
steely eyed persona with a history of bad
behavior at the facility to an energetic yet
soft, warm, compassionate being. Her change was
seen by the prison administration and she too was
transferred to a less secure facility and now has
a realistic hope for parole. Each week the women
recount ways their practice has helped them cope
with their harsh reality, from being better able
to manage difficult and disturbed cellmates, or
skillfully negotiating their way around abusive
correction officers to finding ways to relax and
keep their sense of humor and dignity through the
loud, chaotic, demeaning and arbitrary ways of
prison life. Leaving the prison each Wednesday
night is bittersweet. Energized and feeling
bathed in love and appreciation, I look back at
the stark buildings, harsh lights, barbed wire
and fences and wonder how have we done this? How
have we locked all these women in cages? What
craziness is this? My direct experience over
these 7 years tells me that the vast majority of
these people only need a skilled therapist, a
good friend or two and a job... and they'd be
fine.
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