Book

I Hear Your Cry: WOmen in Prison

  
Veronica (Ronnie) Shaffer had a medical background as an MRI and CAT scan technologist at the Massachusetts General Hospital. Years of lifting patients and moving the portable X-ray machine through the hospital had weakened her back and neck. Medications weren’t working so she sought yoga as a way to build a healthy body. Pleased with the results she became a certified yoga teacher knowing the others also would benefit from her training. For this reason she began wondering what type of volunteer service could she perform in the community, really wanting to work with women who were incarcerated. 

Ronnie discovered that it was not easy to work in a prison, even as a volunteer. She brought her proposal for a women's yoga program to the program director at Framingham. She thought the idea was great, but then they said, "What will the taxpayers think?" Ronnie responded, "They're not paying anything." Dead end. 

There were many rejections over the years, but Ronnie persisted. Eventually, she made contact with the women's program director at a minimum-security prison for men and women. 

Sadly, when something is unfamiliar, there is often fear about trying it. When Ronnie presented her program write up, she was asked, "Can you take the words 'yoga' and 'meditation' out of your flyer?" So, Ronnie called her program "Fit and Wellness: Guided Imagery and Stretching." At least the title allowed her to build a bridge. 

"I felt like a pioneer," reflects Ronnie. "We started the program without saying the word 'yoga." Then, people get to know you, see the results and realize it’s not a religious cult."  

One thing lacking among the prisoners she worked with was the word "commitment." Ronnie decided her class could provide an opportunity to embrace a commitment, another facet of self-care, in addition to learning yoga. Upon completion of the program, Ronnie would give out a certificate. This was a motivational tool. Class members would need to attend all six classes as well as write a few sentences about what the program did for them, as a way of planting seeds to continue to use what they had learned as a means of support when they were paroled or released.

Comfort in one's own body was a big issue for many of the women prisoners. Because prison life can be quite sedentary, many women were quite large. "The first day, I saw a 300 lb woman, another woman who was close to 400 lbs and as well as  average weight women too. How am I going to make large women feel comfortable in their bodies?" Ronnie pondered. "And how I am going to have average size women say, 'Aw, this is nothing?'" She found a way to connect with both groups of women. After that first class they said to her, "Are you coming back next week?" 

Over time, it was very clear that what Ronnie was doing was reaching the women in a very deep way. The women were feeling moved, not just physically, but also emotionally and spiritually. When they turned in their papers at the end of the six weeks, they wrote things like, "you touched my soul," "this was so empowering," "I don't get angry," and "the relaxation you do at the end helps me feel my body, which I haven't ever done." 

These comments were very moving to Ronnie, so she started to come home from the prison and write her experiences on her computer. These reflections led to a book entitled, I Hear Your Cry: Women in Prison.

What perhaps is most moving when working with people is the opportunity to see how we are all interconnected and how we are truly mirrors for each other? Ronnie writes, "I may not have been incarcerated, but I had periods in my life when I felt I was imprisoned. Being married to an alcoholic with three young children, no money and no support system, led Ronnie to feel powerless and desperate. Working two jobs as a single mom was a struggle to survive. 

Ronnie writes, "I identified with their struggles to get out of prison, only to be drawn back into prison. I drew on the strength from my soul, my spirit. The will to succeed. It was one step at a time, one moment, one minute, and slowly the tide began to change." 

The stories of many of the individual women resonated with experiences Ronnie had lived through. She writes, "Like Luvell, who was pregnant while in jail, I felt trapped when I became pregnant with my third child while in a suffocating marriage. Like Cecily, who wanted to be loved and feel safe, I longed to be genuinely loved as a child and a wife. Like Sui, who explored the world of drugs with a questionable boyfriend, I, too, kissed a lot of frogs before I found my prince." 

Life is often humbling, and what separates us from those in prison can be a very thin line. We are all human. And through finding our deeper human connection, we can find liberation from powerlessness and pain. 

Yoga became a medium for Ronnie to connect with and empower women to connect with themselves. Some women changed as a result of the program. Some did not. But the journey was profound. 

What I take away from the story is the power of mind-body healing in all kinds of settings, and the importance of bringing tools for well-being to those who may be have the least access to them. I also take away the power of the vision and care of a pioneering woman, Ronnie Shaffer, and the profound transformations she facilitated through her commitment and love.