Growing art in concrete

After facilitating last summer’s Storytelling Intensive, volunteer Lori Chien is back inside Donovan prison, facilitating the art program that is designing the visuals for a study guide, created by the prison residents for high school students (Thanks La Jolla Country Day teachers for the mentorship!)

Thanks Jessica Johnston on Unsplash

Thanks Jessica Johnston on Unsplash

We’re sitting in our usual circle.

“The theme I picked to draw was Redemption,” one of the artists explained. “I’ve been down since I was 16 years old. I have a life sentence. I’ve spent half my life in prison. I’m still trying to figure out how to live and interact in prison. Art helps me survive. I’m trying to become a better person.”

In drawing Redemption, “the image that came to my mind was Tupac’s A Rose that Grew from Concrete,” he continued. 

As the Core Team works on the study guide for Writing After Life, five artists were chosen to create visual representations of the book’s themes. Artist after artist proclaimed art was and is a resource for them in prison. The thing that keeps them sane, a daily habit that allows for a break from the reality from their situation in prison. One of the artists said, “You can’t even imagine the mental strength it takes to have hope in this environment.”

He was right, I couldn’t even imagine. I’ve been coming into Donovan Correctional Facility to volunteer on and off for the past year or so. What keeps me coming back are the residents’ strong sense of resiliency, their brutal and beautiful honesty, and the deep trust they have for life while existing within the grey walls of Donovan. Every week, they teach me gratitude, humility, truth and faith in life. They are indeed the roses that have sprung from concrete and I celebrate their tenacity daily.

Tupac Shakur’s “A Rose that Grew from Concrete”

“You see you wouldn’t ask why the rose that grew from concrete had damaged petals. On the contrary, we would celebrate its tenacity. We would all love its will to reach the sun. Well, we are the roses - this is the concrete - and these are my damaged petals.”

Mariette Fourmeaux