The Sky Inside Prison Arts Program

I have a habit of hopping from one foot to the other when I’m watching the guys dancing,

I’m there, in the prison teaching, one Saturday morning, and as I hop I say, “Oh my god, that is so incredible you guys. And it’s SO WIERD! I love it.”

One of the guys stops, looks at me, and says, “Don’t say that. Don’t say we look weird. I don’t like it,” his chin begins to quiver. “Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry. I meant it as a compliment; not to hurt your feelings. But no, I won’t say that again,” I say to him.

“You did hurt my feelings. You made me feel like I was doing something wrong, or like…I’m weird for dancing, and I don’t want to be weird for dancing.”

“Of course not. I don’t want you to feel weird for dancing either. For me “weird” is a good thing, and I place a lot of value in it — that’s why I said it. Not because you were doing anything wrong.”

 “How could weird be a good thing? It doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

I say something along the lines of: “For me weird is drawing outside the lines. It’s about being yourself and it’s about trusting yourself. It’s about the delight of the unexpected. It’s about surprise. It’s bringing light to what we tend to hide, and making that hidden thing beautiful.”

“Huh. Let me sit with that for a second and think it through,” he says.

I bite my lip, because that is exactly what I have said to them, so many times before: “Let me sit with that for a second and think it through.” But I stay quiet, and all the guys around us stay quiet as we give him time to think it through. Finally he says, “Okay. I kinda get it. But I still don’t know if I want you to say it. Can you say another word instead?”

“Sure. What word were you thinking of?”

He pulls the brim of his cap down over his eyes, while at the same time looking up at the ceiling so there is no way he can make eye contact with me, even by accident. “Could you say beautiful? I like when you say that, about our dancing. That it’s beautiful.”

“Deal,” I say. Still not making eye contact with me, he holds out his fist and I bump it.

They dance and I hop. I say, “BEAUTIFUL! This is so beautiful. Just….wow, you guys…wow.” I am saying beautiful, keep saying beautiful, because it is so beautiful. When I came back the next week, I have them working with the words “crash”, “fall”, and “spin”, in duets and then in trios.The dancing is stunning, and yes, totally weird in a way that I love weird, but I make sure not to say that.

The guy whose feelings I hurt the week before flies by me at one point. As he does, he yells, “Is this weird, Jojo?” I yell back, “TOTALLY WEIRD!” The grin on his face. The walls, for that split second in time, come tumbling down.

~

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