Tag: memories

manifest respect

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respectThursday last we held our twice-yearly Read Around inside Chittenden Regional Correctional Facility – the evening our writing women share their words with invited guests, some from outside the facility and many from other units within.

Each time we do this, a predictable sequence of emotion shudders through the group. It starts with nervous jitters, morphs into relief after each woman has read, and by the end, coalesces into a sense of shared community, a deep connected unity. Women’s underlying support for one another, their silent cheer leading, all come together in this shared celebration of vulnerability and strength, of loss and hope.

This past week’s event was no exception. What WAS exceptional, however, was the mutual respect in the room.

Throughout the entire event – from introductory remarks by Co-Director Marybeth Redmond announcing the finalization of the cover art for our forthcoming book of these very women’s writings and welcoming special guests including our eagerly involved funders; to the final moments of sharing a gratitude for the evening from each person in the room – the respect within and for the circle was manifest.

In particular, inmates from other units were attentively engaged; quietly participatory; enthusiastic in offering feedback; and pleasantly social post-reading as they mingled with cookies, lemonade and conversation. More than one reader was moved to comment and thank them. And, as evidenced by the cards collected at the end of the reading, guests and readers were of one mind.

What this telling does NOT reveal is that previous readings have emitted a very different vibe. So what has changed? The coalescing of our core group of writers into a true community, one that takes pride in its shared practices of deep listening and mutual respect. We receive what we give. And on this particular evening, the women of the writinginsidevt circle experienced that reciprocity with their guests. THIS was an evening of manifest respect.

What follow are but a sampling of the 35 comments in response to the prompt, what are you taking with you from tonight’s read-around, and what are you leaving behind?

“The peace and happiness and thoughts I put into this group every week.”

“I’ll take the memory of the strong, honest and painful words I heard today, and will leave behind respect.” Continue reading →

i am waiting for me

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Marilyn Kalish

One of the most anticipated moments in each inside writing circle comes near the end, just before the final chime signals the close. It is the moment when one of the 14-plus women around the circle hopes to be the one to read the week’s ‘found’ poem – a weaving of words written, spoken and recorded the previous week by the women in the circle. These words find their way into a poem that is in the truest sense a community creation.

The resulting piece is wholly new and different from any one of the previous week’s writings, at the same time as it contains the seed and memory of each woman’s individual writing. It is a gift to us all, both anticipated and cherished around the circle. In fact, last night one of our long-time writers emphatically declared that these poems are so powerful in their own right, they deserve to become an independent publication. Duly noted!

Some days I am emotionless
my heart waiting for me
to get rid of being scared
to be carefree;

waiting for the months to pass
to embrace life in a new context
bring truth from my past forward.
It’s OK through my actions to change,

for love’s gravity to pull me close to center
plant her foot firmly in my life.
My past may creep up on me –
always felt like I was in a cocoon,
a prisoner to my addiction –

my truth is, it’s time to let loose. Continue reading →

‘the golden road’

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One of our writers, who has been a regular member of our writinginside group since February of this year, left prison just prior to this week’s circle. We are so proud of her ongoing hard work to heal herself through treatment before she returns to her home community. As a parting gift, she left the following poem asking us to share it with the group:

One last poem
as I prepare to go:
your words like gems
mean more than you’ll ever know.

So goodbye to you, my trusted friends,
people I’m lucky to have met;
my time is at an end
but you, I won’t forget.

From you I’ve learned so much
with all your sweet and funny ways –
you girls have got the touch;
in my heart you will stay. Continue reading →

the high road

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From time to time, one of the women in our writinginsidevt circles hands us a poem, letter or essay she has written outside of class time. The following poem is one such piece that landed in my lap after last week’s circle. Its powerful language and imagery need no introduction.

 

 

I see them lie there sleeping
lost in peaceful dreams;
they don’t know my temper’s steeping,
or hear my silent screams.

For now we share a room,
we even share our lives;
but do they know my gloom,
or the emptiness that thrives

calculating and cold,
hard as steel or stone?
My memories grow old
and in my head, I’m all alone.

No one can tame me now.
I’ll run roughshod over you,
tell you when, why and how;
you know that it’s true.

Too hard and tough to cry,
but a tear slides down my cheek
watching time pass by –
just another heartless freak.

Insane thoughts run through my head,
memories flood through me.
At times I wish that I was dead
swinging from an old oak tree.

Locked up in a cell,
a creature in a cage
living through this hell
trying to sublimate my rage.

I know that I must soldier on,
take with me this heavy load;
even though my hope is gone,
I must travel on the high road.

ED