It's 1 o'clock on a Friday afternoon in November 2019, and students are starting to file into their health communications class. Some arrived early and are typing away at computers while others chat with the professor at his desk. This seemingly ordinary scenario wouldn't stand out from any other university across America, if it weren't for the fact that the site is housed at Lancaster State Prison.
“In 2016, the Department of Communication Studies at
California State University, Los Angeles became the first department in California to hold classes inside a maximum-security prison facility, offering incarcerated students the opportunity to achieve a bachelor's degree in communication," says Taffany Lim, senior director of the
Center for Engagement, Service, and the Public Good.
The program emerged from simple beginnings: Cal State LA English Professor Bidhan Chandra Roy, Ph.D., started volunteering at the prison in 2013, teaching writing and English among the chin-up bars in the yard. As he formed relationships with the men over time, Dr. Roy learned that a number of them had earned associate degrees via correspondence courses, but they were eager for the next educational step.
Cal State LA English Professor Bidhan Chandra Roy, Ph.D. talks with a student at Lancaster Prison. Photo: Emilio Flores
“I was struck by the desire of the men to learn and their thirst for meaningful intellectual engagement with someone from outside the walls," Roy says. “There was a palpable desire for a critical awareness of their context and a reminder that education only needs a desire to learn and an object of study. All the classrooms, degrees and institutions of education mean nothing without this desire to learn and be open to the transformation that new ideas can bring."
Three years later, Cal State LA welcomed its first and second cohorts (consisting of 42 students total) to the university's bachelor's degree program in communication, which offers two courses a semester. “It's the same classes taught by the same instructors we offer on the main campus," Lim explains. “We offer the same high quality and set the same expectations—if not higher. It's helped them to improve their communication with cellmates and people on their yard. Now they're better able to understand those dynamics and interactions. It's also helped improve communication with their families."
The endeavor took the diligent efforts of a team led by Cal State LA President William Covino, Executive Vice President Jose Gomez and
Anti-Recidivism Coalition founder Scott Budnick. “The program really speaks to the leadership of Cal State LA," Lim says. “They embraced it and felt it's part of our mission to serve these students."
CONVERTING TRAUMA
In today's class, Kamran Afary, Cal State LA assistant professor, Intersectional Identities and Relationships, is having students take part in narradrama. Traumatic situations from their pasts are acted out, then re-enacted with a healthier outcome. Jimmie Gilmer, 52, walks to the front of the room with a classmate. Together, they perform a brief skit in which a young, dyslexic Gilmer is driving in a car with his father. Filled with shame, the child is unable to read a stop sign, which prompts his father to utter, "I always knew you were stupid." Act two involves the duo pulling up to the same stop sign, but when Gilmer has trouble reading it, his dad says, "You know what? I got all day. Let's work on it together."
"I use an approach called narradrama to deepen book learning," says Kamran Afary, Cal State LA assistant professor. "It helps students see themselves and relate to each other as artists and scholars and creates a deep bonding and camaraderie among the cohort."
“This approach helps students become deeply invested in the process of learning," says Afary, who has driven 75 miles to the prison each way once a week for the past three years. “It releases vast creative energies and helps them process traumatic oppressive problem-saturated narratives." (Due to the pandemic, Afary currently teaches through correspondence and prerecorded weekly video lectures.)
“Having educational programs can both transform the conditions inside the prison and serve as a bridge to transition to the outside world after release."
— Kamran Afary, Cal State LA assistant professor, Intersectional Identities and Relationships
That bond is palpable to onlookers, as those in the audience listen attentively and vocally support one another. At one point, the entire cohort stands and forms a group hug around a student who has broken down crying.
“Having a vibrant, properly funded and staffed educational facility can do wonders for prisoners who are locked up in tiny cells most of the time," Afary says. “It transforms the space from one of punishment and constant regurgitating of shame into one of growth and rehabilitation. These are men who have long made their amends for past wrongs but are caught in a system that can be very unforgiving."
Taffany Lim, senior director of Cal State LA's Center for Engagement, Service, and the Public Good, speaks to the class at Lancaster Prison.
THE RIPPLE EFFECT
The program is not just an outlet for incarcerated people. One of the service learning options coordinated by Roy at Cal State LA is an anonymous pen pal program between main-campus students and those at Lancaster State Prison. The two groups are assigned concurrent projects, such as reading the same books and analyzing the same texts.
“They exchange their ideas about what they're reading and how it applies to their own lives," Lim says. “Students share in very profound ways. It changes their understanding of who an incarcerated individual might be and deepens their understanding that people aren't born bad and people can rise above their worst mistakes. They develop a deeper empathy and understand the role trauma or institutional racism plays in incarceration."
Lancaster Prison student Allen Burnett shows off a poem he had published.
There are also a number of on-campus students whose lives have been affected by the prison system. This experience has helped them resolve some of their own pain.
Additionally, animation students at Cal State LA have collaborated with students at Lancaster State Prison on a
series of documentaries that feature the latter's writing and narration. The shorts depict life in the prison system.
“I love to see the students from Lancaster arrive on our campus and finish their degree with us," says David Olsen, chair of the Department of Communication Studies. “They bring a perspective to our L.A. campus students that is enriching and rewarding for all involved."
“[Incarcerated people] who participate in correctional education programs had a 43 percent lower odds of recidivating than those who did not. This translates to a reduction in the risk of recidivating of 13 percentage points. It may improve their chances of obtaining employment after release."
— RAND Corporation
Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, Lancaster State Prison's first university cohort was scheduled to graduate in summer 2020. They are now on track to finish their capstones at the end of this calendar year.
“Some of these guys may never get out of prison," Lim says. “It's still a worthy investment because they've become huge advocates for education. Now their friends and family—oftentimes individuals who never saw college education for themselves—are pursuing higher education. They're mentors to people in the yard. They're like, 'Hey, don't make the same mistake I did. Go to school, find education, transform your life. Make a difference.'"
Allen Burnett, left, and Thomas Wheelock work on projects before the start of class.