National: Prison Activism & Spirituality

In this issue, we’ve chosen to focus on spirituality by sharing articles that come from three spiritual traditions: Native American, Christianity, and Buddhism. There are, of course, many wonderful spiritual traditions available to all of us. But these articles are a start, and they were all written or compiled by people we deeply respect—people who are well aware of the realities of a prisoner’s life.

Article by Brigette Sarabi

In this issue, we’ve chosen to focus on spirituality by sharing articles that come from three spiritual traditions: Native American, Christianity, and Buddhism. There are, of course, many wonderful spiritual traditions available to all of us. But these articles are a start, and they were all written or compiled by people we deeply respect—people who are well aware of the realities of a prisoner’s life.

Most of us involved in the Prison Project, activists that we are, draw from a variety of spiritual traditions to help us keep strong and centered in our work. Speaking personally, I know that I am more effective, more compassionate, and more energized for the work that needs to be done when I make a place for the spiritual in my life. 

I recently had the experience of being in a training session with a politically and spiritually radical Catholic nun who asked a key question: do we want to educate for liberation, or for domestication? At the Western Prison Project we strive to educate ourselves, and those we work with, for liberation. One of my heroes, a man who has inspired so many of us to fight for social justice, is Nelson Mandela. To me, he combines the power of dedicated political activism and a deep and compassionate spirituality. He is truly a man whose whole life is an example of “education for liberation.” 

Working with prisoners, I often think of Mandela. He spent 27 years in prison, and was finally released at the age of 71 as South Africa’s anti-human political system of apartheid finally toppled. A year ago, Oprah Winfrey published an interview with Mandela that I tore out of the magazine and have kept with me. I read it every now and then when I need a little spiritual support, and I want to share some of it with our readers. 

In talking about how prison changed him, Mandela said:  “In a single cell in prison, I had time to think. I had a clear view of my past and present, and I found that my past left much to be desired,
both in regard to my relations with other humans and in developing personal worth…It was only when I was in jail that I wondered, What happened to so-and-so? Why didn’t I go back and say thank you? I had become very small and had not behaved like a human who appreciates hospitality and support. I decided that if I ever got out of prison, I would make it up to those people or to their children and grandchildren. That is how I was able to change my life—by knowing that if somebody does something good for you, you have to respond.”

When asked if he came out of prison a wiser man, Mandela said:

“All I can say is that I was less foolish than I was when I went in. I equipped myself by reading literature, especially classic novels such as The Grapes of Wrath. When I closed that book, I was a different man. It enriched my powers of thinking and discipline, and my relationships. I left prison more informed than when I went in. And the more informed you are, the less arrogant and aggressive you are. In my younger days, I was arrogant—jail helped me to get rid of it.”

And when asked if he believes people are good at their core, Mandela had no doubts.

“There is no doubt whatsoever, provided you are able to arouse the goodness inherent in every human. Those of us in the fight against apartheid changed many people who hated us because they discovered that we respected them…You must understand that individuals get caught up in the policy of their country. In prison, for instance, a warden or officer is not promoted if he doesn’t follow the policy of the government—though he himself does not believe in that policy.”

Being in prison, and to a lesser extent working from the outside to improve prison conditions or confront injustice in the criminal justice system, are both guaranteed to put us in touch with our anger and rage. The question is, what do we do with this anger? This special section gives us some possible answers.

This article originally appeared in the Spring 2002 issue of Justice Matters.