Mark Salzman spent a year teaching young men how to write. His students were extraordinary. Each was locked up in a juvenile prison. Most had created very serious crimes. Many were convicted murderers.
One result of his work turned out to be the book he wrote reporting on his own experience with the young men and sharing the words they recorded in their own notebooks as he taught them. True Notebooks: A Writer's Year at Juvenile Hall (2003) is worth a read.
Randy Mayeux provided a moving synopsis of the book during the July meeting of our Urban Engagement Book Club. The group meets at noon on the first Thursday of every month, rain or shine, to discuss some important book related to the work we are attempting in urban Dallas.
The book is filled with quotes like these:
Sister Janet explained that she'd been Catholic chaplain at the all for years, but the increasingly punitive trend in the juvenile justice system made her feel that ministry was not enough; she stepped away from her role as spiritual adviser to dedicate herself full-time to advocacy work and coordinating volunteer activities. "The goal is. . .to give these young people a chance to express themselves, and feel that someone is listening." (page 24)
It all boils down to one thing, really: the kids want to feel that they matter to someone. They want to please adults, they want to fit in, they want to model themselves after someone they respect. It's just that most of them have been brainwashed into thinking that they aren't capable of it. (Sister Janet, page 27)
These children have been abandoned. (Sister Janet, page 43)
When you are locked up, you think about your mother all the time. That's true of everyone here. (Jimmy Wu, one of the students, page 75)
Writing also helps me feel free. I can create anything with my imagination, pencil and paper, and before I know it I've created something that was in me the whole time, my pencil and paper just helped me let it out freely. (Kevin, one of the students, page 98)
My students were violent criminals, but I no longer thought of them as bad people. In fact, I felt almost no curiosity at all about what they had done to get arrested; all I cared about was what they wrote and what happened during our meetings. Was that healthy? Was that fair? (Mark Salzman, page 104)
Our world cannot be complete without you, and without hearing what you have to say. True justice cannot exist without compassion; compassion cannot exist without understanding. But no one will understand you unless you speak, and are able to speak clearly. And that's exactly what you have been doing in your classes. (Sister Janet to all the students, page 155)
I had to say goodbye to my roommate just now and all we could do was shake hands. It makes me wonder--if I'm like that now, not even able to hug my friend on the worst day of my life, what am I gonna be like after fifteen years in the pen? (Jimmy Wu, page 197)
Although I don't touch on this subject in the text of my book, I'll say it now: they made me decide to have children of my own. It's a debt I can never repay. (Mark Salzman in a note of thanks at the end of the book, page 330)
The book is composed largely of the essays of the students. If you want to experience the thoughts of children without options who continue to display real soul, read this book.
In reflecting on the book, it occurred to me again that far too often we tend to judge and regard people from a-single-point-in-time perspective.
One result of his work turned out to be the book he wrote reporting on his own experience with the young men and sharing the words they recorded in their own notebooks as he taught them. True Notebooks: A Writer's Year at Juvenile Hall (2003) is worth a read.
Randy Mayeux provided a moving synopsis of the book during the July meeting of our Urban Engagement Book Club. The group meets at noon on the first Thursday of every month, rain or shine, to discuss some important book related to the work we are attempting in urban Dallas.
The book is filled with quotes like these:
Sister Janet explained that she'd been Catholic chaplain at the all for years, but the increasingly punitive trend in the juvenile justice system made her feel that ministry was not enough; she stepped away from her role as spiritual adviser to dedicate herself full-time to advocacy work and coordinating volunteer activities. "The goal is. . .to give these young people a chance to express themselves, and feel that someone is listening." (page 24)
It all boils down to one thing, really: the kids want to feel that they matter to someone. They want to please adults, they want to fit in, they want to model themselves after someone they respect. It's just that most of them have been brainwashed into thinking that they aren't capable of it. (Sister Janet, page 27)
These children have been abandoned. (Sister Janet, page 43)
When you are locked up, you think about your mother all the time. That's true of everyone here. (Jimmy Wu, one of the students, page 75)
Writing also helps me feel free. I can create anything with my imagination, pencil and paper, and before I know it I've created something that was in me the whole time, my pencil and paper just helped me let it out freely. (Kevin, one of the students, page 98)
My students were violent criminals, but I no longer thought of them as bad people. In fact, I felt almost no curiosity at all about what they had done to get arrested; all I cared about was what they wrote and what happened during our meetings. Was that healthy? Was that fair? (Mark Salzman, page 104)
Our world cannot be complete without you, and without hearing what you have to say. True justice cannot exist without compassion; compassion cannot exist without understanding. But no one will understand you unless you speak, and are able to speak clearly. And that's exactly what you have been doing in your classes. (Sister Janet to all the students, page 155)
I had to say goodbye to my roommate just now and all we could do was shake hands. It makes me wonder--if I'm like that now, not even able to hug my friend on the worst day of my life, what am I gonna be like after fifteen years in the pen? (Jimmy Wu, page 197)
Although I don't touch on this subject in the text of my book, I'll say it now: they made me decide to have children of my own. It's a debt I can never repay. (Mark Salzman in a note of thanks at the end of the book, page 330)
The book is composed largely of the essays of the students. If you want to experience the thoughts of children without options who continue to display real soul, read this book.
In reflecting on the book, it occurred to me again that far too often we tend to judge and regard people from a-single-point-in-time perspective.
The fact is these kids grew up with neglect, poverty, abuse and abandonment. Their life stories, their histories ushered them through very bad choices and into juvenile hall. In my case, I grew up with attention, guidance, abundance, love and discipline. My life story, my history has ushered me through mostly good choices (thanks to all the people constantly watching and "getting my back" and sometimes my back end!) and into a satisfying and mostly productive life.
For some reason I know that, at the soul level, my journal or notebook probably reads a lot like the ones they composed.
For some reason I know that, at the soul level, my journal or notebook probably reads a lot like the ones they composed.
The life and circumstantial outcomes have been much different. But, one thing is very clear to me: I can't sit in judgment, nor can I claim any credit for my own good fortune. This is a good thing to remember.
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