Ed Note 24.27/28

Greetings friends! Welcome to double issue 24.27/28! This week we welcome to our editorial pages another stellar pairing of reflections by high school students, this time from San Francisco University High School. In her reflection, Rania offers honest insight into her own development of resiliency, and critiques the function of American prisons versus prisons abroad. Lukas thinks critically of his role as the “gatekeeper” of Beat Without writing, and asks a lot of great questions around artistic agency and editorial guidelines. We appreciate the hard work of both Rania and Lukas, and the brilliant reflections that they’ve had on our work! Be sure to scope the pages of The Beat Without to read the provoking pieces that they reference below. 

The Skill of Resiliency

Working with The Beat has been a transformative experience, providing me with deep insight into the justice system and a better understanding of resilience. I was inspired to come to The Beat after taking a class on incarceration at school where I learned about the injustices of the American prison system and its disproportionate effect on People of Color and its emphasis on punitive rather than restorative justice. One of the works we read was Michel Foucault’s Discipline and Punish which describes incarceration as a process of dehumanization. It seemed only logical to come to The Beat where everyone works hard to combat that harsh narrative.

When transcribing pieces, I find myself constantly admiring the authors’ immense ability for self-reflection and personal growth.  In one piece I read, Harry C. Goodall, the author, describes how he engaged in “destructive behavior” during his first five years in prison. However, not liking who he was turning into, he decided to “look within [himself] and see [his] way out” and then began his path to self-improvement and reform by attending various support groups. He decided to “take off [his mask] and be the real [him]”. I was struck by Harry C. Goodall’s self-awareness, his ability to truly look inside and assess who he was instead of who he was becoming, and his decision to change.

This skill of resiliency is something I struggle with often, as do many people, and his ability to rebuild while in the face of much adversity is awe-inspiring. I often wonder if my “mask” is different than my inside and wonder how to look inside myself to continue improving and working on breaking down that façade. I look towards submitted pieces as guidance as there is much I take away from hearing the voice of our writers.

The themes of reform and resiliency are something I often identify in transcribed works along with responsibility. Many pieces include an apology to those the author has harmed as well as an explanation on how they are trying to make amends. I can only imagine that it is part of the healing process and a key step in achieving internal peace. It gives me great hope to see those incarcerated trying to rehabilitate and participate in restorative justice, something that is often absent in many prisons. The phrase “tough on crime” is often used to impress, but it is counterproductive. Strict punishment and unnecessarily cruel living conditions will not lead to true and honest reform, which should be the goal of prisons.

The Beat publishes works that often include stories of those trying to better themselves, something that is hard to do especially when our prisons are isolated and operated as businesses. In contrast, the Scandinavian prison system uses “open prisons” which resemble dorms and focuses on community living. It supports prisoners in developing and improving themselves, allowing for some limited freedom, with the goal of helping them integrate back to society. It is near impossible for American prisons to provide that same outcome, when death penalties and life sentences kill nearly all chances of hope for rehabilitation. 

I hope we can get to a point where incarceration is about successfully returning members to society and where those in prison are as introspective and as self-reforming as The Beat writers are.

-Rania, San Francisco University High School 

Power and Powerlessness in The Beat Within

Alex Charles, a man incarcerated in Tehachapi, California, concludes a piece about his trauma by writing, “The Things That Are Behind Me Are Not Stopping Me From Being Me Now.” I’ve understood the cathartic potential of writing since I learned to read and started writing my own stories, but until I began transcribing written work for The Beat Within, I never considered the extent to which words can be both powerful and powerless. 

The unique position of The Beat Within as a window into and out of the criminal justice system intensifies this paradox. For many of the people whose work I transcribed from handwriting to typeface, writing seemed a matter of life and death, a product of diligent reflection intended for other inmates to hear and learn from. Many of the pieces I proofread dealt with self-forgiveness, loneliness, and devotion to rehabilitation, to God, or to friends and family. Charles’ work is distinguished by its use of capital letters in every word, a stylistic choice I made sure to keep because of the urgency it communicates. Charles’ capitalization requires the reader to work harder to process his pieces, apparently mirroring the arduous experience of crafting them. Compounded with a Hip Hop awareness of rhyme and rhythm, Charles’ work is deeply impactful. His struggle reads like the inscription at the base of a Roman statue, immortalized in the marble of a typed page. When scrawled on a piece of lined paper, his words look like a deluge of thoughts; when read in neat type on a backlit computer screen, each letter has profound weight.

For this reason, transcribing work by incarcerated people puts me in a difficult position. Laptop in hand and WiFi at my disposal, I am the gatekeeper, curating what the person on each side of the window sees. Many times, I’ve had to interrogate the line between editorial license and artistic integrity. Should I replace a comma splice with a semicolon or period? Should I rearrange the syntax of a sentence to make it more understandable? Should I add or replace words when a sentence is unfinished, leaving me to guess at the writer’s intent? The writer of a piece is virtually powerless, and for no other reason than that I am not in prison, I am handed the power of voyeurism. Even when I tell myself that I am helping the writer by clarifying their language, I am changing their work to conform to dominant schema. What if Charles’ intention is to make us work harder by deciphering his capitalized fragments? What if I’m misreading him and he didn’t intend for his work to be published in all caps at all? 

Conversely, the experience of inmates writing for The Beat Within—whose work is often inspired by that of others—is no doubt shaped by the reality that there is an intermediary on the outside editing their work. Allowing a piece to take flight in this panopticon requires serious courage, and it is obvious from the work that it is an empowering experience. The Beat Within amplifies voices that would otherwise never be heard, much less committed to paper. But the pieces are as much about concession as they are about confession. The writers are often coming to terms with their situation rather than seeking liberation from it. J. Kumar writes, “Don’t fight it…you have the power to live your life in whatever emotional state you choose to live it in.” Nephew remembers, “I used to date desperate, now I’m dating patience.” Why should we expect inmates to cry out, when their words will not set them free? The writing is heartbreaking because of its hope, powerful because of its powerlessness. 

Charles’ assertion that “The Things That Are Behind Me Are Not Stopping Me From Being Me Now” can be read as an empowered assertion of his will to change. However, given its position within a piece that describes his trauma, the quote can also be read as an acknowledgement of the ways that Charles’ past is as anchored to him as a shadow. Even if an incarcerated individual writes themselves into one sentence, they are still bound inside a cell by another.

-Lukas, San Francisco University High School 

Again, we are grateful for the work and time Lukas and Rania not only put into the commentaries you have just read, but the work they have done in support of being sure our writers submissions are ready to go for publication.  We are not only thankful to these young editors, but to our whole team, from those who facilitate the weekly workshops, to our many editors and typist, as well as our copy-editors and our layout/designer, who all play a key role in getting this publication together and into the hands of us readers.  With that said, enjoy this one of a kind publication. We are certain with an open-mind you will learn plenty from our many-many contributors.  Don’t hesitate to reach out if we can be of support. We welcome your thoughts and ideas.  Enjoy The Beat Within and share it with a friend! The more who know about us, the better!