Rise and Shine

We checked our mobile phones one last time before locking them in the glove compartment of the car.

They can’t go where we’re going.

The three of us loosely huddled around the cars as we determined what the next moves would be.

It was decided we’d go to The Clink. A high quality not-for-profit restaurant run largely by prisoners.

I couldn’t eat.

I was too nervous in the I-absolutely-care-how-this-goes-kind of way. Being here with Ashley and Stuart felt like one of the most important things I had done in a while.

I ordered a cappuccino and chips.

The ever considerate Stuart asked if I knew that meant I was ordering fries not potato chips.

I reminded him that I’m part euro resident, that I know the difference between chips and crisps.

We laughed over “lunch” for a while before they were ready for us.

We walked down a damp path to a gate marked “visitor” where we were asked if we had cell phones or tobacco products.

We didn’t.

Ash had an amplifier, microphones, an MP3 player and a bunch of literature and other materials.

Stu had his shoulder bag.

I had a tote bag with three Olympic Gold Medals.

We were cleared and then escorted through what on the surface looked like a mini Victorian college campus with different named buildings and a Main Street connecting them all.

Finally we arrived to our intended destination, a sort of day room. We set ourselves up and waited.

Twenty something women trickled into the room.

All of them convicted of something serious enough to put them behind bars here for a while. 

You see, we were in prison. 

A women’s prison. My wristband the only thing that distinguished me from a resident.

Stuart and Ashley started an organization called Rise Up! They go into prisons and in twelve sessions walk prisoners through what is called the Hero’s Journey (Joseph Campbell). One of the goals of this program is to help prisoners make the most of their time “away” by learning about how they think, how they act, self awareness, etc. The stories I’ve heard about how the male prisoners  in the program have taken to this curriculum have touched my heart on such a deep level I jumped at the chance to be a part of it.

It was session one, here at the women’s prison, and I had spent weeks trying to figure out what I could say to room full of women that would resonate with them. The last thing I wanted to do was come across as this chick swinging gold medals with some bullshit “you can do anything you can put your mind to” speech.

Instead, after I was introduced, I stayed seated on a love seat in the front of the room and talked straight.

Turns out most of us in that room had actually gone through the same thing. 

The difference lied in how we reacted.

As much as I wished I had a way to document the session the lack of technology present allowed us a level of openness and intimacy that I probably wouldn’t have been comfortable with myself.

To just talk through my life’s timeline while fielding questions from the women healed me in a way I didn’t actually think I needed. 

I didn’t think I was still hurt or angry. But I am. And every single lady in that room was a mirror for me, and I for them.

I saw in their faces validation of my choices. They saw in my face the futures they will have by making slightly different choices, by being just a tad bit more self-aware.

I appreciated the casual flow of the conversation. 

At one point as I was talking about relationships something I said resonated deeply with a young woman on the right side of the room. She said, ”yea, I was just trying to scare him- but I killed him”

Tianna in another life would have been like “WTF we’re just causally discussing murder.” But this Tianna understood how thin that line is. I locked eyes with her-nodded, she nodded back and I proceeded to explain how I could trace my poor judgment in men to how I felt about myself at the time. 

They agreed.

The medals weren’t in attendance as a “look what I can do” prop. Instead, they were there as “look what you can do while going through shit if you’re committed to being the hero in your own story”

Later in the session, Ash asked the women if they understood why I was invited to be a guest speaker to open the program.

One of the women, who earlier expressed an anger and pain still very close to the surface answered for the group:

Because she’s had a shit life.

Time paused for a moment as I had an out of body experience. Here I am in the United Kingdom at one of Her Majesty’s prisons in a room full of prisoners serving a range of sentences for a range of convictions. And the answer to that question is because I had a shit life.

The universe pressed play again and time resumed.

I smiled at her and said, “bingo”

Another woman perked up and said, “But...”

“But she figured out how to make different decisions for herself to survive it”

Again, bingo.

Between Stuart, Ash, and myself we reiterated how that power to choose who we’re going to be, and how we react, lies within each of us, and that over the next twelve sessions they’ll get the tools and resources to build that muscle.

Ash ended with the most epic freestyle to a Dr. Dre beat I’ve heard since Eminem’s final battle in Eight Mile.

I got so many hugs that day too.

So many whispers in my ear, “thank you”

“That happened to me too”

“I know what you mean about high school”

“I’m cheering for you at the next Olympics”

“I’m going to follow you on Instagram when I’m out of here”

“I’m going to tell my daughter about you when I’m out in a couple weeks, I want her to be like you.”

I was empty, but my heart was full. I poured so much of myself into that conversation. So much honesty into my answers because I knew my deep truths wouldn’t escape beyond the prison walls. 

I wanted those women so badly to know how powerful they are.

Not because of their ability to be destructive.

But because of their ability and willingness to be constructive.

And the passion of Rise Up! to demonstrate and model how they can do that over the next three weeks.

Yogi’s don’t believe there are bad people. Just ignorant people. People who may not know or have forgotten their inherent divinity and inner light and act out of that forgetfulness and/or ignorance .And that’s why at the end of a yoga class a teacher is often heard saying “the light in me recognizes the light in you...” because maybe for that hour you felt seen, and the teacher was a mirror, and you were reminded of who you really are.

I hope I was able to do that for those ladies in our time together, I’m absolutely confident that Rise Up! Will do that for them in the upcoming weeks. And I am so incredibly honored that I got to be a part of it. Because first you rise. Then you shine.