Totality

“Would you look at that” I thought to myself as I directed my eyes to the sky. I was wearing a special kind of glasses while trying to look at the sun. 
The news had been talking about that event for days “a solar Eclipse” they said “an event that takes place only once every twenty years”. 
Some of my friends had decided to visit family or friends at nearby states just so they could witness the moment when the moon passes between Earth and the Sun, obscuring the view of the Sun from that small part of Earth. 
I questioned their decision “why drive hours away, just so they could find themselves if only for a few minutes engulfed in darkness”?
“You don’t understand” they responded “you have to witness the totality”.
Their response got me thinking about my wife.
She has spent years, driving twice a week from our home in Chicago to teach writing to incarcerated individuals. The last year she has been part of a Saturday writers’ group with the guys in the inside, that have master degrees and work as tutors during the week.
And almost every week she would show me the multiple poems, essays or stories written by them.
Then she would say to me “you have to visit my writing group”.
“Can you get me in” I would ask.
“I am not sure” she would reply.
But to be honest, I am a person of color. I wasn’t afraid that they wouldn’t let me in, I was afraid they would not let me out.
Finally, a few months ago my busy schedule as a storyteller finally allowed me to aligned my days off with the days she goes there.
“If you want to join me, I can sign you up as a volunteer” my wife said.
I didn’t like the word volunteer. I wasn’t excited about spending my day off working without getting paid. 
“Come on” my wife said “we can have some quality time together in the drive there and back home”.
I can’t say no to her. And so, the week after, I found my path aligned with the scheduled time with the writers group.
“How about you share some of your stories and brake down your writing process”? my wife suggested as I was introduced to the group.


​The last couple of years, I have taught storytelling workshops at schools, colleges, and companies so I figured this would be just another workshop. However, what I witnessed that day eclipsed all my expectations.
In just a matter of hours they understood and memorized the fundamentals of storytelling. The following week they had incorporated some of those elements to their writing and only a few weeks later, they had organized a storytelling slam of their own.
The day of the event, I was invited to listen and give points to the storytellers participating in the slam. 
I found myself engulf in darkness, but not due to the absence of light but because of the brilliance of their writing. 
And yes, some of them have been giving sentences for heinous crimes, but the stories didn’t focus on that. 
Some stories were funny, some stories were sad; but they all showed a level of vulnerability that is often shunned in a prison environment. 
But there are days when my schedule is busy, and I am not able to go with my wife to the prison writers’ group.
“don’t you worry about her safety”? a friend once asked me when he learned about my wife’s work.
NO, I am not afraid for her safety.
I remember the day of the eclipse, after I was done looking at the Sun.
“Do you want to see the eclipse”? I asked a young lady standing nearby.
I was offering my glasses to her.
“No” she said shaking her head her head for emphasis “I am afraid to look”
Sadly, that’s the way most people feel about incarcerated individuals, they refused to see them as humans, they see them just as criminals, monsters that need to be punish.
If wish they would take the time to meet them on their path of correction and see their growing phases.
I wish I could give people a special kind of glasses so they can see incarcerated individuals, not by their rap sheets or the color or their skins but by the context of their character and the splendor of their totality.


The previous was published as part of Writing from Both Sides of the Moon  Writ112 writers’ collective, founded at Stateville Correctional Center. for more information visit the web site 
Writing From Both Sides of the Moon