Categories: Where in the World

Teaching T’ai Chi Chih at Folsom State Prison

By: Julie Heryet

Placerville, California

At this year’s T’ai Chi Chih conference, I’m looking forward to sharing about the class I teach at Folsom State Prison. Justin Stone wrote that it was no accident that we’d been called to become TCC teachers, that there was a great mission to be fulfilled. My mission is to spark some interest about teaching TCC at correctional facilities. In case you don’t make it to the conference, here is some of my presentation.

TCC and other meditation programs are so valuable in prison because it is such a stressful place to live. Prisons are overcrowded and noisy. In Heightened Awareness, Justin talks about the detrimental effects of noise on people living in cities. Folsom, a prison that dates to the 1880s, still has bars on cell doors. One building is five tiers high and holds 1,000 men. You can imagine the noise. I have one student who stays up until 2 a.m. to meditate. Inmates suffer from stress-related diseases, depression, loss and grief. TCC students in prison also have other special challenges, like getting permission to attend class and trying to practice in 5’ x 8’ cells.

Folsom students say TCC class is like an oasis. They look forward to it all week, and credit it with helping them maintain their sanity. They feel better physically, more grounded and spiritually centered. It helps them let go of past and future, and rest in the now with acceptance and compassion. They find freedom from old, reactive habit energies, which kept them victims of their past – and are able to connect within the community that has developed among their classmates. Class is a safe-haven and support group.

There are many reasons why I recommend you consider teaching TCC inside of a correctional facility: 1) to stand up against racism, as one in three African American males will be incarcerated during his lifetime; 2) to be of service to veterans, who make up 10% of prison population, and are twice as likely to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorders; 3) to have an opportunity for personal transformation as a teacher, because when you witness an inmate-student (to whom society has shown little in the way of love, tolerance, acceptance and compassion) embody these qualities in himself, it speeds your spiritual evolution; 4) because, when an inmate participates in a meditation program while incarcerated, his or her chances of recidivism are reduced by 40%.

If this interests you, you can volunteer in a jail, prison or juvenile detention facility. The latter might be a good choice because of the potential for prevention. Jails see higher levels of stress than prisons (there is a great deal of uncertainty because some people have never been there before and the population is less stable; most are awaiting hearings and sentencing). Prisons usually offer more programs, so you might have an easier time getting in. Women generally do “harder time” and suffer more isolation than men do.

Once you’ve decided on a facility, you’ll contact the person in charge of programs. I wouldn’t initially say you want to teach T’ai Chi Chih because the words T’ai Chi might scare them. I’d call it a “moving meditation” class. Once your foot is in the door, you can explain the specifics of this form of moving meditation. Once you have an appointment, get in touch with me. I will email you information, sample questions you might ask and a list of materials you might bring to your interview. I also have some research to support your proposal to offer a class inside.

Teaching in a correctional facility is not for everyone. If you feel unsure, find someone already teaching inside to accompany you. Or, while it isn’t TCC, get in touch with another group teaching meditation on the inside, like a Buddhist meditation group leader, or a centering prayer instructor. Once familiar with the challenges of offering services in a correctional institution, you might have more success starting a class later. You may always participate in the annual Circles of Light Folsom event.

Teaching in prison has taught me many valuable lessons. One of the most important is that my class plans, handouts and music are not nearly as important as showing up, showing up fully, looking each student in the eye to say, “I see you. You matter. I care. I witness your existence.”

I’ve brought together a group of teachers, many who have much more experience than I, to mentor anyone interested in teaching in a correctional facility. Please contact me (see email on taichichih.orgtai-chi-chih-teachers) for their information. I am happy to help.