When I first met Peter, he was 27, a lanky young man with a sensitive face, a gentle voice, and a haunted look in his eyes. He was one of 14 incarcerated men who had volunteered to participate in a production of The Tempest at Racine Correctional Institution in Sturtevant, Wisconsin. Peter had chosen to play the role of Ferdinand, the young nobleman who vies for the affections of Miranda.
Peter began serving his time in prison seven years earlier. At the age of 20, he was convicted of robbing a restaurant at knife point, using duct tape to confine the store manager to a chair. He was sentenced to 30 years.
While Peter
participated in every correctional program that he could, two in particular
stand out as especially significant for him. The first was a victim awareness program that he
participated in about three years after he began to serve his time.
The
second program that "made a big difference" was The Shakespeare Project (TSP), which he joined about four years
later. As Peter puts it, he had
already demonstrated to himself (and others) that he was capable of empathy, remorse,
and remediation. Shakespeare, he
says, offered something more.
"Before, I had always been trying to fit into some image of
what I thought people wanted me to be.
The Shakespeare Project was a chance for me to say this is who I am." For nine months, Peter worked closely
with other prisoners, and with several volunteer teachers and artists. In addition to playing the role of
Ferdinand (his first opportunity ever to act in a play), Peter helped to
compose an original score, and played in the pit band.
On the night of our public performance, Peter's mother and sisters were there. So was his seven-year-old daughter, who had not seen him in over two years. Since the actors were in costume, it was the first time in her life that she had seen her father in any clothing other than prison greens. His performance was radiant. At the end of the show, the actors had the opportunity to mingle and greet the audience members. Peter's mother and sisters were beaming and wiping the tears from their eyes. He was unsure how his daughter would react. He stepped toward her and opened his arms. She ran into them, and he held her. “It felt like only a moment,” he wrote, “but it felt eternal… the most beautiful moment I have ever known.” When someone nearby asked her what she thought of her Daddy up there on stage, she beamed and exclaimed, "My Daddy is a prince!"
On the night of our public performance, Peter's mother and sisters were there. So was his seven-year-old daughter, who had not seen him in over two years. Since the actors were in costume, it was the first time in her life that she had seen her father in any clothing other than prison greens. His performance was radiant. At the end of the show, the actors had the opportunity to mingle and greet the audience members. Peter's mother and sisters were beaming and wiping the tears from their eyes. He was unsure how his daughter would react. He stepped toward her and opened his arms. She ran into them, and he held her. “It felt like only a moment,” he wrote, “but it felt eternal… the most beautiful moment I have ever known.” When someone nearby asked her what she thought of her Daddy up there on stage, she beamed and exclaimed, "My Daddy is a prince!"
Now,
five years later, Peter is out of prison and on parole. He is living with family, holding down
two jobs, and being the best father to his daughter that he can be. Looking back at The Shakespeare Project, he describes it as a critically important
moment in his preparation for release:
"It gave me a renewed sense of life. It was kind of a coming out for me." He says the most valuable aspect of the
program was that it showed him that "there are other things out there in
life... the world is huge. There are healthy, productive things to
do in life."
1 comment:
Reading Doc's (what we affectionately call him) post, brings back a flood of memories and emotions. In a world where I fought, with every piece of myself, to be able to connect to a life and world I once knew, and hoped to know again, I became skeptical when an "outsider", someone "from the world", extended a hand inside the walls. I learned early into my incarceration, be careful who you let in. Be careful who to trust. Tread with caution, and make decisions with calculation and analysis - regardless whether they were from inside the walls or out. However, there were those rare individuals, whom upon first meeting, broke all trepidation. Whose sincerity and genuineness shone through the drab gray and green garb.
Doc was one of those people. He is. He not only sees Beauty within the Beast, he strives to bring it out to the forefront. Refusing to let the down-trodden and forgotten be left behind. He gave me an opportunity to live. To be free, while I was locked up.
Yes, this has a "feel good story" feel to it. When stepping off that stage, having my daughter run into my arms, my tears falling on her head, hers in my chest, unsure why she was even crying-I have to stop and catch my breath. This is a worthy tale to tell, and one that needs to be told. Yet, there is another side to it all as well. One Doc may not mention here, but one that was a constant presence in TSP. One he mentioned often. One that has carried with me, and I still carry, ever since that fall day so many years ago. The reason all of us were even in that library in Sturtevant-the victims of the crimes we committed. TSP wasn't a place to have fun and do something outside of the norm. Yes, it was those things, but I don't believe that was its originated purpose. What drove it was a way to rehabilitate us. To learn empathy for others. To find a way to attempt to give back to society, and the victims we caused, with something positive. Some of my most memorable moments in "The Process" (aka TSP) were the journal assignments. Taking what we learned in the words of The Bard, applying it to our own lives and the history of what led us to that moment. Relating how the players in the play were feeling and juxtaposing it to our victims. That is what was defining about the play. About The Process. Finding a positive, healthy, productive outlet; and honoring the victims of crime-my crime-through reflection, self improvement, and growth. Thank you Doc for the journey, and continuing on it with me.
-Peter
Post a Comment