The Journey Daybook, Inc.

Last week our training of 9 participants in the Journey Daybook Process came to a close at the Florida Women’s Reception Center at Lowell, FL. Each new alum received a beautiful, shiny certificate. As you can see from our group photo, everyone seemed especially joyous. What made this graduation extra special for everyone was the inclusion of a participant who was not an inmate but, rather, a long time volunteer at the prison. From our first session back in January, Karen adapted herself to the group and was eagerly accepted. She joined in the discussions and shared her thoughts and emotions in the same generous way as everyone seemed to do. This week, she sent me a reflection of the meaning of the 9-week Journey Daybook training session to her that was very moving for both Barbara and me. I am thrilled to share this beautiful message with everyone here –

“Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around us in awareness.” James Thurber

I had considered applying to take the Journey Daybook (JDB) classes off and on for several years, but I always stopped myself as soon as my mind drifted to the prospect of sharing any pages I had done with others. Everybody always politely says that it doesn’t matter if you have skill as a visual artist, but let’s face it, most of the exercises are in the drawing, painting, and design arenas. I finally got over the hump when the opportunity arose to be a member of the third JDB inmate class at the Florida Women’s Reception Center. Why did that make a difference? I have been a volunteer in another inmate program, Mommy Reads, in which we only spend a few minutes with each participant on a Saturday morning. I was really drawn to the idea of being a member of a several hour class that took place over a few months, where there would be an opportunity to get to know the other women better. In this setting I also liked the more egalitarian idea that I would probably be one of the least skilled participants in the class. It somehow seemed appropriate that I would be learning from and probably in awe of the talents of some of the women inmates, as opposed to being the volunteer who is bringing something to them.

I was not disappointed. In the first session President Barbara Beynon described the JDB process, taking special care to emphasize that journeys may be outward or inward. Obviously this is especially fitting in the prison setting. While we make a point of not looking up details about the pasts of the class members, we know the reality is that most of them face ten or more years in the FL prison system; usually several with whom we work have life sentences. One of the beauties of JDB is that none of that matters. It especially did not matter to me. I had only the most basic intellectual understanding of concepts like warm or cool colors, value or gesture, mirror or window images.   I was glad that making pages is essentially a solitary process, helping me to resist my tendency to compare and envy other participants who may or may not have relied on theory but who seemed innately to make such creative and clever and intense and meaningful and beautiful pages. Even those who chose not to draw or paint something recognizable made wonderful explosions of color, sensing implicitly that there was no right or wrong in the outcome. Several participants said that JDB gave them a few hours each week when they could forget that they were in prison and just focus on being present in a calm and supportive environment where they were allowed to play or reflect and where each woman could attend to her own needs and desires.   For me that was a lesson in consciousness that would have made any Buddhist smile.

It is impossible to be a prison volunteer and not come away with feelings of gratitude for things we often take for granted. Some of the reasons were clearly reflected in the pages of my classmates. One regularly painted fruits and vegetables because she missed eating them in the prison meals. Another had bursts of color to offset the drabness of the required uniforms. Occasionally the pages showed inner despair and loneliness.   One particularly poignant moment came when one of the class members became aware that we bring our own toilet paper to the prison and she asked if she could have just one square. She touched it gently and then rubbed it on her face, relishing the softness of something she had not felt in that way for a long time.

It is perhaps trite but nonetheless true to say that these women are our sisters, neighbors, cousins, and friends. Each of us has made poor choices in our lives at one time or another. Who can say what those choices might have been had they been compounded by poverty, addiction, mental illness, or abuse? To use the JDB parlance, my personal journey during this training was to realize that I need to stop looking out the window and pointing the finger at others for the unprecedented and unconscionably high rates of incarceration in this country. As a society we have made choices with unintended long term impacts on families and children and it is time for me to look in the mirror and reflect on what I can do to make a difference.

And yes, the art.   One of the early JDB exercises is to draw and paint your own shoe. Much to my surprise, when mine was done, it actually looked like my shoe! My own personal JDB triumph! If it is true, as Malcolm Gladwell asserts, that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to achieve mastery in a field, I figure I have at least 9, 980 to go. Or as Greg Anderson has noted, “Joy is not found in finishing an activity but in doing it.”

Karen Johnson, April 2015