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counseling

Art Therapy

The Desert of Self: Starvation of Identity in the Prison Setting

Posted on July 17, 2021
Myself Masking

A Desert Stroll

On a first walk through the gated compound, there’s no shaking the starkness of nothingness, a blank prison canvas. Marked by concrete and wire, there is no color, no personality. Numerous cinder block buildings are connected by concrete “roads.” Most days are idle and left to one’s imagination. The typical day revolves around the 3 chow times, several lock downs for count and limited programs.

Starved of Their Identities

The prison environment for inmates coupled with a history of trauma, losses and mental health crises becomes a breeding ground for decompensation. From Misluk-Gervase’s (2020) article about art therapy and the malnourished brain in individuals with anorexia nervosa, this art therapist realized I witness mental health malnourishment every day as male inmates are starved of their identities.

Focus of Clinical Attention

From the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders Fifth Edition (DSM-5), a list of “other conditions” are provided that may be a “focus of clinical attention.” These additional issues are beyond mental health disorders and “may affect patient care.” The DSM-5 lists code Z65.1 as “Imprisonment or other incarceration” (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). Thus, the desert of incarceration is recognized as problematic to patient wellness.

Malnourished Redefined

So, what does malnourishment look like? Marked by the effects of physical malnourishment, individuals with anorexia nervosa (AN) often are rigid in viewpoints, resistant to treatment, lacking in emotion, have increased suicide risk, strained connection with others and trauma histories (Misluk-Gervase, 2020). As expressed in the corrections setting, inmates often have inflexible opinions which culminate in violence with no regard to consequences. Incarcerated persons often refuse treatment convinced they either don’t need help, or no one can help them. Further, to cope in prison, inmates may acquire maladaptive responses to emotion, or rather the lack of emotive expression or identifying emotions. With years behind bars, inmates often cope by “staying to myself” and not sharing with others furthering a decline in prosocial behaviors.

Toxic Stress Consequences

The compassionprisonproject.org (2021, as cited in Merrick, Ford, Ports, & Guinn, 2018) looked at Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) in the inmate male population and found a higher incidence of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, emotional and physical neglect, domestic violence, substance abuse, parents living apart, mental illness and having a family member incarcerated as compared to the U.S. population. These experiences change brain chemistry with the unstable, dangerous prison life contributing to functional decline. For inmates that have been incarcerated several times, the pattern of being “institutionalized,” whereby the engrained structure of prison life makes reintegration into society increasingly difficult. Sadly, many convicts may reoffend to return back to prison, to return to “what they know.” Prison living can be a starvation of self, slowly over time.

Research has determined that physical malnourishment impacts 9 distinct areas of brain functions including: overarousal to perceived threats; compromised access to long-term memory, distorted view of self; inhibited social connection with others; impaired decision-making; the brain cannot order their needs introducing myopic views of self and surroundings; rumination on details and facts to the sacrifice of one’ worldly perspective; perfectionism and compulsory actions; and seeking out pleasure despite negative consequences (Misluk-Gervase, 2020).  

Of course, a diagnosis of anorexia nervosa in not a typical consideration within mental health evaluations in prison. Inmates are not typically affected with significant weight loss as found in AN. However, what is the significant loss of self?

Art Therapist with Conviction

Through my art therapist lens, I witness the need for inmates to reconnect with who they truly are. Inmate Jones* had served 12 years of his 25 year sexual assault crime. In his first session, we completed a mask project. With identity teed up, he indicated looking forward to meeting again and would like to share his story next time. With therapeutic trust in place, the inmate shared his story, a story he never shared with anyone all these years. He realized the night of his crime was not just one night fraught with bad decisions alongside his heavy cocaine use. Rather, he realized he had not been living right for several years. This night has haunted him, especially with the victim and her family extending forgiveness. Hinging on his frustration, I suggested to consider “Who are you now?” and  “What would it be like to accept this gift of forgiveness?” “How might it help the victims and yourself to know that healing can happen and new purpose can be gained?” I plan to have him create and bear his gift in the next session.

Presenting as depressed and downtrodden, Inmate Smith* came into session carrying a folder. A careful eagerness flashed across his face, “Can I show you some artwork?” With delight, we spent the session reflecting on his detailed work. With precision, his favorite image was a diagram of his home with all its dimensions, contents, complete with plants and items in the yard. He yearned for a return to home with his partner, yet was pitted with the idea that he may not have either to return to. For, it has been over a year since he has received any news on either. Tormented with pain, he sensed the worst has happened. Holding the space through images brought order to his thoughts. His ambivalence about living was soothed by feeling heard. Reconnection to who he really is… became the heart of his healing path.

Art Therapy Reflection

In my reflection, I created an image and poem, “Myself Masking.”

Cracked and barren
Lay the same old, same old
Gasping and dried
Knees sunk in the hot sand
Hunched and aching
My eyes tracking forlorn
Chained and uniformed.

Thirsty and starved
Crawl the same old, same old
Ain’t no way back
With cracks so wide and deep
Secrets hidden
Body, mind, soul revealed
Would get me killed.

Held and straining
Pushing down all the pain
Seeing myself
As I am now today
Only fleeting
A moment, a flashing
Myself masking.

References

American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed.). Arlington, VA: American Psychiatric Publishing.

Compassion Prison Project. (2021). How common are adverse childhood experiences (ACEs)? Retreived from https://compassionprisonproject.org/childhood-trauma-statistics/

Merrick, M. T., Ford, D. C., Ports, K. A., & Guinn, A. S. (2018). Prevalence of adverse childhood experiences from the 2011-2014 behavioral risk factor surveillance system in 23 states. JAMA pediatrics, 172(11), 1038–1044. https://doi.org/10.1001/jamapediatrics.2018.2537

Misluk-Gervase, E. (2020). Art therapy and the malnourished brain: The development of the nourishment framework. Art Therapy: Journal of the American Art Therapy Association, 38(2), pp. 87-97.

Art Therapy

Devil Show: Manipulation in Art Therapy Prison Work

Posted on May 17, 2021
Devil Show

What Happens in Vegas

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, so the tagline goes. In no time, prison can rear up its dark side harkening things no one asks about. From a bet gone wrong, gang activity, conflicts with security and so on, violence is a by-product of prison life. After conviction, criminal activity doesn’t necessarily end once an inmate starts doing time. When laws are broken behind bars, inmates are sent to confinement.

In Your Tiny Little Cell

Confinement is essentially the jail for prison. Inmates are housed in confinement as they go through a hearing process for the rule violation and if found guilty, receive a disciplinary report (DR) and sentencing. DR’s can reduce gain time for eligible inmates and can extend their EOS (end of sentence). In confinement, inmates lose the privilege of living in an open bay or 2-man cell living quarters with open areas to walk about. In contrast, confinement entails small cells with restricted movement such as only getting phone privileges once per week. If inmates continue to break rules, an inmate could be transferred to an institution with Close Management (CM) for tighter control.

The Game

On this Friday, mental health was contacted by confinement to see an inmate claiming “psychological emergency,” that is, the inmate is stating he is suicidal or homicidal. On the walk down, I am granted permission to enter. Taking my first breath of the putrid confinement air, I begin to cough and tear up. Walking into the entrance, the seemingly normal air is not clear at all. Uncontrollably, I begin coughing and tearing. In the space, many officers are coughing with puffy eyes but walking at a normal pace with the look of “just another day in the office.” Looking up into the face of this inmate, he looks unphased. Earlier this day, this inmate was inappropriate and uncooperative when mental health checks were completed. Post-pepper spray, he was able to wash up. He stood tall, angry and matter-of-fact, awaiting his opportunity to stick-it-to security by getting a ticketed move out of confinement from his mental health visit.

Idol-ness of Prison Life

In the song “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” the devil offers a bet to a boy named Johnny for the best fiddle playin’. To kick off this soul quest, the devil says, “I’ll start this show” (Hayward et al., 1979, May 21). In prison, manipulation is the name of the game. From the idleness of living, inmates often find maladaptive ways to spend their time. This idleness can become “idol-ness,” pointing inmates into this revered path to exploit other inmates, staff or prison services. With nothing to do, serving time can become the devil’s time.

Art Therapist with Conviction

Nothing wakes you up like the unknowing whiff of pepper spray in the morning. If you haven’t already questioned why you’re working there, an existential crisis could definitely ensue. Reflecting upon this peppery show, I created a poem and image called “Devil Show.”

“Devil Show”

Hidden to the eye
Nose finds flames – oh my!
Throat’s closing & binding
Doubling over
Eyes water
Coughing ensues
There’s a job to do.

Looking up at pain
From the burning rain
So sad to see such effort
Require the need of pepper.

Pains behind these bars
Spread to make more scars
Cycle over and over repeats
Boredom from these streets.

Creativity finds its path
But this way causes wrath
How may we implore
A way to pay debts
To be so much more.

Watching the “Devil Show,” this scheme often gets stuck in reruns: new inmate, new day but same show. From the song “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” Johnny stated, “Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again, ‘Cause I’ve told you once–you son of a bitch–I’m the best there’s ever been” (Hayward et al., 1979, May 21). Like pepper spray filling a room, confinement is infused again with these droplets of deceit. Drawing the image allowed me to see the sadness of the situation. Plus, I could step back and recognize the inherent manipulation of therapeutic work in prison. Looking up into the eyes of this anger, most inmates are masking a felt idleness and depression. Gussak (2020) stated there’s a need to “rehumanize the dehumanized;” pointing out the need for inmates to regain their identity which is often stripped in this controlled setting. At the end of the day, this art therapist with conviction now knows, “Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no.”

References

Gussak, D. E. (2020). Art and art therapy with the imprisoned: Re-creating identity. New York: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group.

Hayward, C. F., Daniels, C., Edwards, F., Marshall, J. W., Crain, J. & Digregorio, W. J. (1979, May 21). The Devil Went Down to Georgia. [Recorded by Charlie Daniels Band]. On Million Mile Reflections. New York City, NY: Epic Records.

Art Therapy

On the Road Again: Change in the Corrections Setting

Posted on April 11, 2021
"How Are You?"

“On the road again, goin’ places that I’ve never been. Seein’ things that I may never see again,” sang country singer Willie Nelson (1980, August). In fact, inmates live this transient life. Many inmates start out “couch surfing,” and become homeless, living in tents. At the point of incarceration, most have more than worn out the welcome mat with family and friends. Doing time means “getting 3 hots and a cot,” that is 3 meals and a bed which is more consistent than when living free.

In a Blink of an Eye

With no schedule living “on the streets,” inmates come into incarceration and experience the same bouncing around, with constant dorm or facility reassignments. Some may get released; some are retained for a lengthy court trial and many go to prison. Inconsistency is the consistency. As a result, planning art therapy services becomes challenging with all the movement.

Re·​cid·​i·​vism

Over time, it’s easy for facility staff to become hardened and jaded. Especially when witnessing the reoffend cycles. These cycles are measured by recidivism, which is basically a measure of the time before relapse and reconviction. Generally, an inmate with a long rap sheet may recidivate more quickly or younger inmates may recidivate more quickly than older inmates (National Institute of Justice, n.d.). When starting therapy groups, I was doubtful about establishing regular patients. To my surprise, I maintained a steady group of inmates awaiting sentencing. Also, I witnessed many group members voluntarily return to therapy sessions months later upon rearrest.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

One inmate had a history of heavy drug use and domestic violence. While in jail he gained back a healthy weight, but returned months later and 40 pounds lighter after a return to his usual lifestyle. Another inmate had a college degree but maintained an extensive history of arrests. Seeing the pain of pattern and witnessing the cycle on repeat can be exhausting. The fog of extensive drug use, toxic relationships, complicated lives and trauma appears as perfunctory as a morning shower, just lather, rinse, repeat.

Emotions Made Tangible

The emotional toil is heavy especially when made tangible through physical signs. Bloody eyes, cuts, bruises, busted lips, poor skin tone, missing or broken teeth, tremors, the list goes on. Further, suicidal gestures often come into this mix and must be evaluated for valid attempts or manipulation for other services. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, suicide is the leading cause of death in jail, with jail rates superseding that of prison and the general population (2020).

Art Therapist with Conviction

So, how do you cope in the corrections environment? As an art therapist, reflective artmaking helps by enabling painful feelings to become tangible and eventually manageable.

How Are You?

Helpless in a hopeless system
Staring into the pain of shock
How can this happen on this block?
Justice is distanced to the powerless
Caught in process & brokenness
Sea of red pooling
Encircling the soul
Shock, horror and why bestow —
None are blameless, you know.

But some lines should never be crossed
Otherwise humanity is tossed
An innocent “how are you”
Now becomes misconstrued
For stories shared in close proximity
Reveal this needless calamity
Egos and power struck down
Edging God out of this town.

Those left in the wake of wrath
Must now pick up pieces for a path
To take them out of bodily pain
In hopes to erase the mental strain
Of another complication
Too difficult a situation.

Breathe in breath of life…
Help lessen this strife…
May blood tears dry up this grime
So wrongdoings can fit their crime.

In my reflective poem and image “How Are You?,” I drew the pain that I witnessed. Bloody red paint was applied with a layered, dense wash. With the defined bulging eyeball and purplish-yellow bruising, the image is painful to look at. Art provided me some distance. More important, the image and poem provided me a voice; yet I never uttered a word.

References

Department of Justice. Office of Justice Programs. Bureau of Justice Statistics. (2020, February). Mortality in Local Jails, 2000-2016 –Statistical Tables by E. A. Carson and M. P. Cowhig. Washington DC: Bureau of Justice Statistics. Retrieved from the Bureau of Justice Statistics Web site: https://www.bjs.gov/content/pub/pdf/mlj0016st.pdf?utm_content=mci&utm_medium=email&utm_source=govdelivery

National Institute of Justice. (n.d.). Recidivism. https://nij.ojp.gov/topics/corrections/recidivism

Nelson, W. (1980, August). On the road again. Honeysuckle Rose. [Vinyl record]. New York City, NY: Columbia Records.

Art Therapy

Shoot the Breeze: Holding Space for Artmaking

Posted on March 30, 2021

“Shoot the Breeze”

Follow the rules
So you’re not missed
Amongst those on the list.
Line up against the wall
Follow the leader

With security in tow.
One hour a week
To take the walk
Down the halls
Through lots of locks
To find a break from the dorm
A silence begins to form
What’s that you say
“I’m good”
Ain’t that enough for the day?
Then this crew began
To reminisce about a can
A barrel precisely
For burning refuse wisely.

Then with a turn of the head
You can’t understand
Our musings said.
Silence broken
Then laughter rolled
So follow the rules
Humanity restored.

Make a Walk

This morning, I dropped off my patient list at the security tower in the jail. I stopped in a few minutes early to remind the deputy the therapy group was about to begin. He walked down the iron steps from the tower. The heavy green painted dorm door was popped and a boisterous yell ensued calling the names off my group list. Patiently, I waited with all my belongings in tow. Then, inmates began to exit the dorm and line the walls. Security performed a pat search and then escorted them in a line much like the days of elementary school. To make the walk, I followed behind the deputy to the last cinder block room. It was a painfully slow walk for me, but the inmates seemed to enjoy the stroll. They looked at new sights, sometimes seeing friends at other dorm doors shouting “what’s up.”

Cinder Block Classroom

At the end of the hall, the classroom opened to a sea of bland block walls, folding tables and green plastic chairs. To my delight, I found a room of nothingness; because some days, this room doubles as a barber shop with “fresh clippings” unswept. Today, quiet cheerfulness seems to be the mood. Inmates know they have to “turn off” dorm life and now come to “civil life.” One wrong move and they might lose the freedom to get out of the dorm, catch a disciplinary action or worse, get reassigned to confinement for their misdeeds.

No Politics or Religion

In group, inmates are directed to create a scribble with their nondominant hand. As the scratching of colored pencils begins to subside, silence fills the room. Today, there seems to be a reluctance to participate. Inmates are glad to be there but don’t want to “put themselves out there.” A lone voice speaks up. “I’d like to talk but I can’t because it’s about religion.” One of the group rules is not to discuss politics or religion. Usually when I review this rule, a sigh of relief fills the room. Many inmates have shared about the how these hot topics implode in the battleground dorm.

A Scribbled Mess

Considering the group contract, I realized this rule may be impending a freedom to share. So, I explained we are not here to banter the ‘should’s’ or ‘should nots’ about religion or politics. However, spiritual or religious ideas are important to each individual and should not be discounted. The inmate felt relieved, “so I can talk about how my image relates to my faith?” “Yes,” I replied. He stayed on topic and spoke freely about how he realized he needs to mature in his faith. Looking at his scribble, he could see what a mess he has made of his life. He is saddened about taking another trip to prison. Other group members begin to open up. Many in the room have either been to prison, are fighting a legal battle to keep from going to prison, or already sentenced and waiting on the “bluebird” (prison bus) to show.

Humanity over a Burn Barrel

As the leader, I noticed that I am beginning to shrink into the background. The discussion gets heavy. Then one inmate, who wears sunglasses (all the time) speaks up. He reminisces about how they (on the outside) hung out many a’ night by the burn barrel. Inmates began to laugh and speak lovingly about sitting and watching their trash fire. The group evolved from coldness to warm laughter. They forgot I was there. Then, out of the side of the first inmate’s eye, he turned to me and laughed, “she doesn’t even know what a burn barrel is.” He meant it with all sincerity and I responded in the moment by laughing out loud. Nothing had to be said. We all laughed. Holding the space, the art therapy hour moved a group of inmates away from their manipulative ways, a myriad of feelings were expressed and many thoughts were heard, “humanity restored.”

Art Therapist with Conviction

In my painting, “Shoot the Breeze,” I imagined our group sitting around the burn barrel. I tried on the fingerless gloves. With hands outstretched warming over the fire, I sat in the dark and witnessed the fire growing. I’m reminded of Shaun McNiff’s (2015) ‘principle of simultaneity.’ The idea is we have the choice of witnessing everything in the moment while also sacrificing some things because so much is happening at the same time. With so much going on, I knew some things could be missed and also felt honored to hold the space. When I heard, “she doesn’t even know what a burn barrel is,” I reacted to the space created by this group of incarcerated inmates. For, I laughed with them.  In a place of so much meaninglessness and emptiness, a group making art tapped into their free choice to create. Opening up about their ultimate concerns, this group discovered meaning and purpose from a little scribble this day.

References

McNiff, S. (2015). Imagination in action: Secrets for unleashing creative expression. Boston, MA: Shambhala Publications, Inc.

Art Therapy

Prison From an Art Therapist View

Posted on March 13, 2021
prison art therapist view

“Well-Come Mat”

Drifting tendrils of smoke
Fold upon one another
Suspended and held softly
Like that of a mother

Mind drifting upward
Opening to vast space
Shifting thoughts emerge as
Love seats its new place

Heaviness sitting above 
Thoughts burden this crown
With bulging waves of matter
What was up, is now down.

Seeing from a curious view
Putting this matter in its seat
Heart begins to fill
Connecting with all complete.

Ah, but just the beginning
Shift provided from the spirit
New perspective enlightens
So we as witness can bear it.

For love can dispel doubt
When all is welcome at the mat
Turns things around
So fears will fall flat. 

The Daily Prison Commute

Welcome to prison from an Art Therapist view. You’re invited! Enter through the heavy iron doors with me. Make sure you’re wearing your surgical mask upon entry. Once the covid-19 screening is complete, security check-in will commence. Honoring the 3-people maximum, patiently wait your turn to place shoes, jacket and all possessions into a tub.

Overheard are officer announcements reminding all of the forbidden entry items. With your belongings in a tote, place your stuff on the conveyor for an airport-like screening and then contents are tossed like a salad in search of contraband. With a wave from security, you are motioned to walk through the metal detector which often signals a bonus pat-down search. Grab your tossed tub o’ stuff and put yourself back together.

In a tight shared space, waiting lines emerge for keys, body alarms, radios and more. Some days you hear of training on the range and witness Kevlar vests, rifles and the like spiraling through. This rough sea of security, medical, programs, administration and support staff converge in this one spot with buzzing, slamming iron doors.

Artmaking begins with a Prison Walk

Beyond this space begins your walk onto the compound lined with spiraling razor wire and massive fencing. Facing east, the morning walk through the fencing always gives way to witness the warm, stunning glow of many ‘a rising sun.

You can count on both hands the number of locked doors and gates to my place of practice. With trepidation, press the button to signal security that “I’m here or we’re here” and “ready to go there, “ unlocking each door through each point. In some institutions, pressing the button is viewed as sacrilege and one is reminded that patience is a virtue. Sometimes you get locked in a vestibule between two doors. You wonder, what if no one is there? How long might I hang out? But then, common sense reminds you of the humanness of this place–in due time. 

Now, walk to the internal compound where inmates may be moving food carts or cleaning the fresh droppings from feathered friends that have found the perfect nesting ground. Approach the entry to your wing of the facility, your Shangri-la for the day. Now clocked in, what might this day have in store?

Art as a Visual Language 

In the image “Well-Come Mat,” the warm glow of day is captured as it breaks against the cold gray concrete and steel. With watercolor, I painted in the sky. Then, I used colored pencil for details. How may security or staff see the morning? Are inmates afforded this view from their dorms? From my vantage, the beauty of the sky fills less than half the image. Stepping back, the chain link creates a gridded barrier like when trying to focus an image through a camera. Looking straight up the fencing, the feeling is oppressive saying, “you ain’t gettin’ out of here.” As I squint my eyes, the image falls flat, but the sky gently warms. Inviting boredom, horizontal lines flatten, begging a peek over the other side. Up close, there are scuffs on the sidewalk and rusty stains on the building.

Dawn Break Signals

In reflection, twilight points to the desire for hope; for “it’s a new day.” Yet, the warming light contradicts the looming gray fortress. Is it possible we need the dark to experience the light? Is this the way to bear witness to dehumanization creeping in? The World Health Organization (1948) defined health as “a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity… and the definition has not been amended since 1948.” Within the image, a welcome mat is placed upon exit, signaling a cleansing, a preparation of going back into the “real world.”  How about “well-come?” Another way stated, “Did well-being take place?”

Artmaking as a Conviction

With conviction, I humbly present an image that began as a “felt sense,” a feeling and thought finding its way through artistic media onto paper (Rappaport, 2009). Bypassing verbal defenses, the art product comes direct from the source making the intangible, tangible. Often, images beg more questions than answers. Behind bars, art becomes perfect fodder for trying to make sense of the senseless. Artmaking as catharsis, allows for a state of flow (Csikszentmihalyi, 2008) to see prison from an art therapist’s view. To deepen an art therapy session, the presence of a masters-level Art Therapist can hold the space and guide the conversation for discovery.

Art Therapist and an Honorary Life Member (HLM) of the American Art Therapy Association (AATA) Bruce Moon (2009) coined the term “canvas mirror” or how we dialogue with the image. From my canvas mirror today, I wiped my shoes on the welcome mat and pondered how others choose to do their sole cleansing. 

References

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (2008). Flow: The psychology of optimal experience. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

Moon, B. (2009). Existential art therapy: The canvas mirror. (3rd ed.). Springfield, IL: Charles C Thomas Publisher, Ltd.

Rappaport, L. (2009). Focusing-Oriented art therapy: Accessing the body’s wisdom and creative intelligence. London:
Jessica Kingsley Publishers. World Health Organization. (1948). Constitution of the World Health Organization: Principles. Retrieved from https://www.who.int/about/who-we-are/frequently-asked-questions 

Art Therapy

Singing Concrete & Iron: Counseling Work in Corrections

Posted on February 27, 2021
dark water song

Future in Forensic Studies

After a few years, I completed my masters-level art therapy program. Then, I began the daunting task of finding gainful employment. As I viewed community options, I was astonished to find several correctional facilities. Behind bars, incarcerated persons are largely hidden. That may be the intention; however, I was shocked that I never considered forensic work in my studies.

Time for Count

In this area, I added up the facility populations. An estimated 8,000 people in this community are incarcerated. Surprisingly, the count actually matches the employee count for the area’s largest employer. According to a study from Cornell University, nearly one in two Americans has an immediate family member incarcerated for more than one year (Enns, Youngmin, Comfort, Goldman, Lee, Muller, Wakefield, Wang, Wildeman, 2019). Further, I learned the state of Florida is ranked in the top 10 states having the highest incarceration rates in the United States per the U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics (2019).

Art Reflection with Conviction

With worried looks, family and friends shakily extended their congratulations on my new employment. With this first jump into art therapy practice, I am gaining experience for meeting the unique and challenging needs of incarcerated persons. So, welcome! This blog will chronicle my reflections of working behind bars from the vantage of an art therapist with insights communicated through imagery, poetry and writings.

“Dark Water Song”

Loosen up the reins
Holding back plays a fear
That which is before you
Has so much song to hear.
The medium moves faster
Than the mind can even wrap
By the time you brush the strokes
Weather’s changed in a snap.
So loosen up faster
Then move around the trap
To nature’s depth on tap.
Then forgiveness softens
As a whisper of solidarity
Oh amongst this concrete & iron
Find the song of me.

In the “Dark Water Song” image, a river flows beneath a leaning iron bridge. Life seems to be full of color outside of the structure. Growth and movement appear to ‘move on,’ unaware of the structure. I find this too happens in our community. The prisons and jails are there but set apart from the “busy-ness” of life. Forgotten from an outside view, life also bustles from behind these walls harkening these souls to “find the song of me.”

References

Enns, P. K., Youngmin, Y., Comfort, M., Goldman, A. W., Lee, H. Muller, C., Wakefield, S., Wang, E. A., Wildeman, C. (2019). What percentage of Americans have ever had a family member incarcerated?: Evidence from the family history of incarceration survey (FamHIS). Socius: Sociological Research for a Dynamic World, 5,1-45. doi: 10.1177/2378023119829332

U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics. (2019). State-by-state data. Retrieved from https://www.sentencingproject.org/the-facts/#rankings.