“Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.” ~Winston Churchill
As a music education researcher, I consult primary sources to inform my research methodology and analyses. What and who would be my primary sources now that I was grappling with rather “big picture” issues involving starting an all-male prison choir? Three issues were at hand:
- Gender
- Race
- Relevance
Certainly, my collegial, female compadre who had started the drama program at the prison extolled the benefits of working with the residents. She assured me that she had never felt unsafe or threatened…ever…while interacting with the residents. And, frankly, having observed her work with the guys, I think no one would ever harm her. She is this petite bundle of energy, strength, and compassion. She has a strong bond with the residents resulting from their work on plays and circle-of-truth discussions. Such a passionate advocate! It is clear that she is a giant and heroine of their story. So, no worries…that I identify with being female will be a non-issue. Or?
Enter the African-American, male, Pentecostal pastor who graciously agreed to meet for lunch to discuss his experiences as Chaplain at the Grafton prison. This veteran pastoral sage provided advice such as : 1) Establish boundaries before you ever step in front of the singers, 2) Be aware of your surroundings, 3) Know that anytime one enters a prison, one is placing oneself in a space of potential danger, and 4) (I’m blushing as I write this! His words, not mine!) “You’re a female, and a rather attractive one at that. They could very well see you as a sexualized object.”
Enter the (white) male pastor of the United Church of Christ congregation to which I belong. Over coffee, he mentioned, “I think you are just the person to do this.” His sage ideas included: 1) You’re not there to judge. You are there to make music., 2) You never know the form that ministry will take., 3) You don’t have to relate to the residents based on shared life experiences. The connection will be the music., and 4) This might just be the time in your life for this project. Why not?
Finally, enter an acquaintance, who is an intuitive, white, female psychologist extraordinaire. She gave me her sage perspective: 1) Be aware of your body position relative to the residents at all times., 2) Examine your real reasons for wanting to work with the residents. Are you trying to be a saviour? A caregiver? A martyr?, 3) “These men have not seen or been with a woman for a very long time. You might be trying to conduct music and bring beauty into the residents’ lives, but know that they’ll be looking at your legs.”, and 4) “These are broken people, not bad people.”
The people have spoken. Would I demonstrate the courage to listen, process, and implement this sage advice as I go forward thinking about this choir, what it would “look like,” the boundaries I would define, and the role I would assume? Standing up for prison reform is relatively easy. It’s listening to the sages that’s proving to be difficult.
Singing Behind Bars 