Wow, 2019 has been a learning year!  We have had a lot of sticks in our spokes over the past year and we’ve been dynamic and agile to overcome them.  One prison administrator said “When the TEDx event was canceled, I thought you were going to leave Donovan. The fact that you’re still here says a lot.”  We’re still there because we’re committed to this journey of healing for the long haul!

Through the challenges and even thanks to them, we have beautiful successes to share. This year, we put into practice what I preach to the residents all the time:  There’s a gift in every challenge...if we’re willing to unwrap it.  In addition to the countless human transformations, a few of the programming successes are

• Last April’s TEDx event - While the event was put on hiatus for reasons beyond our control, the Core Team did every bit of work required to ideate, organize and plan the event; this deserves to be celebrated!

• Storytelling Intensive - While on event hiatus, we crafted a powerful Storytelling Intensive with guest volunteer experts in expressive arts, creative writing and improv. Stories here and here

• Nonviolent Communication - Newly launched this past February, NVC is currently in its 3rd 12-week offering. We hear the prison residents use the NVC tools of “needs” and “strategies” on the yard!

• Conflict Resolution - The residents received three 17-week iterations of Conflict Resolution this year with the same success as the first

• Groups of community members experiencing prison - Multiple groups of 20 people experienced a very unique, personalized conversation between disconnected worlds while coming into prison for an afternoon

Thanks to you, so much has been accomplished!

In 2020, we’ll move forward together to create a broader vision of empowering more than 500 prison residents at Donovan who need:

• A safe space in which they uncover and ignite their unique brilliance

• To ripple out this brilliance as they become unstoppable agents of positive change to their kids, families, officers, at-risk youth and the greater community

• To create events that engage across disconnected worlds so everyone can shift their relationships at home, at work and in society

Plus, what if 2020 was the year we expand our wildly successful model to the homeless population?  We’re having these conversations.  The intent: empower this community, creating a platform to co-create viable solutions to San Diego’s homeless challenges.

As you reflect on the impact you want to make with your year-end giving, please remember that the Donovan prison residents and our community need you!

When turned upside down by a recent life-changing event, Leslie Willis found comfort in the unknown through lessons she learned in prison. Here’s her story:

It was 11am on Monday morning as I walked into my boss’ office for our meeting to discuss bringing on another part-time program manager. You can thus imagine my surprise when she instead told me that, due to our financial situation, we’d actually be cutting back. “Thursday is your last day,” she said.

It felt like my world was being upended. I had finally found a long-sought-after job in my field that I was passionate about, and I was getting laid off. I thought this was where I was supposed to be; now, I wasn’t so sure of anything.

Two days passed, and my processing of the news continued. Would I really not be returning to the office after tomorrow? The thoughts of “why me?” and “why now?” passed through my mind. I decided to go for a walk. I needed to get outside, to clear my mind. Turning east down a different path, a block away, I stood in front of a wall mural. It read: “You are exactly where you need to be.”

I am exactly where I need to be. Even if I don’t know exactly where that is right now.

The thought was frightening. Looking up into the sky, I took a deep breath as a single tear trickled down my cheek, and acknowledged my emotions. “I see you there, I hear your concerns, I know you’re real, and that’s okay.” I’m okay. All of this will be okay. It may be scary, but what do I do when life hits me with a ton of bricks? I start paving a new path.

Suddenly, I felt an unexpected calmness pass through me. This will be okay. I will be okay. I believed it, but why this sudden feeling of comfort? I asked myself when, and where, I learned to have such compassion for myself and my situations. When did I become capable of such deep levels of introspection? Then it dawned on me. Prison.

It was in the moments of deep listening to individuals, many faced with life behind bars, sharing stories of hope, of redemption, of discovering self-worth and a sense of purpose. It was in the moments of seeing grown men of different races offer words of encouragement, comforting embraces, and honest friendship to each other in a place where prison politics forbid such relationships. It was in the moments of shared reflection on the impact that our time together has on each individual’s mentality and belief in oneself and what is possible.

Over the past year and a half of entering RJ Donovan Correctional Facility with Brilliance Inside, I’ve come to realize that despite their situation, being deemed society’s unwanted and being called monsters, these individuals are free. The amount of inner work they’ve had to do as part of their transformation is astounding, well beyond the average person I’ve encountered outside those prison walls. Subconsciously, I realized that I also desired this depth of internal peace of mind despite my external situations. I had been told that there are things outside of our control that we can’t do anything about, but we can control how we respond to them. It was in prison that I began to fully understand the power and truth behind this message.

Just as the prison residents are responding to their situation with self-compassion, hope for a better future, and a renewed commitment to their own self-growth, so am I approaching this new chapter of my life with an open mind and heart. In this moment, I give thanks and gratitude for my ability to hold myself in a space of compassion and understanding, to allow myself to feel human and acknowledge the whirlwind of emotions that come with my humanity, and especially for the individuals who unknowingly guided me on this path to heightened introspection. While I may not know what the future holds, I am now comfortable with not knowing and will embrace my journey of self-discovery.

I stand for healing our society’s cycle of violence.  I stand for treating everyone with dignity, respect, honor and love.  In our programs, we create safe spaces in which we recognize the pain in ourselves and others, to then heal these hurts so brilliance can ignite in and around us, which in turn creates a community of healing, connection and peace.

Thanks ZeeNBee on Pixabay!

Last week, I fell short of my wishes for the world and for myself.  In a conversation, I got triggered and spoke to a person with dishonor and without dignity.  My words came out in anger and attack.  I was not loving.

I’ve spent the past week reconciling this within myself and with the other person.

It hurt me deeply to recognize the hurt I created because I see first-hand the destruction caused by dehumanization, and the cycle it perpetuates.  And, while most days my actions heal this cycle, last week, my action perpetuated it.

I took a hard, long look in the mirror and spent some time with the part of me that had been triggered to the point of lashing out to another.  It was not pretty.  And it’s hard to look at the darkness and ugliness in ourselves. 

And yet, I did it because I’ve learned that the fastest end to the cycle of violence is to heal the hurt that underlies the violence.  Dishonoring someone is violence.  Therefore, I was going to identify the underlying hurt, “neutralize” it by healing it so that it cannot hurt myself or another again.

And yes, I also reached out to the other person apologetically, in reconciliation and healing, as this person deserves to heal the hurt I created.

My greatest wish for all of us is that, when we hurt or are hurt, we take an authentic look at this hurt.  As long as we do the hard and vulnerable work of self-reflection and healing, each of us remains on this roller-coaster journey of growth and daily progress.  And this, in addition to the healing hurt, is cause for celebration.

Finally, this also triggered shame.  Here I am teaching this stuff and, last week, I blew it big time.  It’s a reminder that each of us, no matter who we are, are on this journey of healing.  Each of us have moments in which we’re living in our brilliance and moments in which our hurt is expressed.  There is tremendous power in together holding a safe space to see each other’s vulnerabilities and continue to grow.  Despite the hurt, I’m grateful this past week offered this gift.

I’ve often wondered what makes it so hard for many families to find closure after a tragedy when there is no body.  Now, to be clear, I’m not questioning the trauma of losing a family member to 9/11 or to a kidnapping or to genocide.  I’ve wished to better understand what makes a mother exclaim “just find me a bone so that we can provide him a proper burial” during South Africa’s post-apartheid Truth and Reconciliation Commission (in Desmond Tutu’s No Future without Forgiveness), for example.

Thanks Ma Fab on Unsplash

And then this happened…

A little while back, I received a celebratory mylar balloon.  After a week, the deflated balloon found its way to the floor and, curious to see if it would come a little off the floor again, I cut off its string and weight.  And the phone rang.  I turned around to answer it and forgot about the balloon.  A few hours later, I went looking for the balloon.

I looked around the living room; no balloon.  The kitchen; no balloon.  The bedroom; no balloon.  Hum…. My front and back doors were open, so I laughed at the idea that the balloon had gone for a stroll outside.  I went looking out the back; no balloon.  And out the front in our closed courtyard; still no balloon.  Where had it gone?  It could not have flown away as even without the string it was barely hovering off the ground.

So, I took another investigative tour of my place and the yards.  And when I did not find anything, I wrote off the balloon.

But, no.  My mind kept coming back to it, asking “where did the balloon go?” “What happened to the balloon?”  “How could it have disappeared?”  “Maybe it’s still out there somewhere and I missed it.”

And this is when it hit me.  I’m struggling to let go the unknown whereabouts of a silly mylar balloon.  No wonder some families can hold on so tightly to the idea that their loved one may still be “out there, somewhere.”  No wonder it’s difficult to create closure without the confirmation of a body.  If my mind can create so many stories about a mylar balloon, I cannot imagine what these families must go through.

Yes, it's a mylar balloon that helped me empathize with the plea I hope to never experience of making peace with a family member's disappearance.  What are you learning this month?  What can you understand thanks to something as insignificant as a mylar balloon?

We’ve been hemorrhaging Core Team members!  First, the institution switched 60% of the residents between two yards (which, for security purposes, are completely independent).  Second, of the remaining Core Team members, THREE were transferred to lower-security prison (woohoo!!  Big celebration for their achievements!).  So, we’re left with one Core Team member.

To recruit and select new members, last week, we read 60 applications from prison residents looking to join the Core Team that organizes the TEDx event.  Application review is always a quiet process, with everyone reading and evaluating separately.

When we finished, Connor looked up and beamed “I am so happy to have read all these applications!  I learned so much!!!”  When asked to clarify, “I never realized how much more impact a story creates over listing attributes and qualities.  I see now that the stories said so much more in less words.”

In a number of applications, we read that the residents would bring to our program “positivity, tolerance, patience, organization, team player, creativity, team leadership, adaptability...”

Another, to express what he expects to learn, said that “As a kid, I once rode Space Mountain with the lights on.  It was fascinating to see the inner mechanics that no one else normally gets to see.”  In these two simple sentences, we learned and deduced that

• He likes to understand how stuff works

• He likes working behind the scenes, making the magic happen

• He’s curious

These are all qualities we appreciate in a Core Team member.  He’s now on the interview list!

Someone else is on the interview list for a very different reason.  In this other application, one sentence caught our hearts:  “I don’t make people feel small.”  While this application did not present accomplishments or attributes, this simple statement showed heart.  And THIS is our top recruiting criteria.

We create a safe space in which people uncover and ignite their brilliance.  This man shows us a glimmer of something on which we wish to provide safety, fuel and space.  This has become a design feature of our team creation.  The leaders we select into our Core Team are not only the “cream of the leadership crop”; they are also residents in whom we see heart and desire to spark betterment in themselves and their world.

Have the courage. Take the leap!

-      “How many of you have a big idea you’re dreaming of accomplishing one day?”  Many hands in this morning’s audience rose.

-      “Who’s actually bringing this big idea to reality?”  I and a few others now raised our hands.

-      “For the rest of you, what’s stopping you?”

-      “Time,” “money,” “a plan” were the answers.

As I listened to the answers, I realized that these were in fact NOT the reason we do not accomplish our big ideas, our dreams. The actual – and underlying – reason we don’t pursue our big idea is COURAGE.

It takes unbelievable courage to

• Release the stories we hold about our identity and value to the world

• Listen to the call of our big idea

• Trust the fact that, if this big idea is the gift we’re meant to provide to the world, God is going to do everything in his power to make it happen (for those who wish to substitute Universe, please do so)

• Take the step, even when we cannot see the path or the outcome, even when it feels like we’re taking a step off the cliff 

Oh, I know, easier said than done.  I’ve heard the voices that counter what I just said.  “I’ve got a mortgage.  I’m married with kids.  My current responsibilities take up all my time.  I need the funds before I start.”  The facts of your current situation are very real and true.  I’m not saying to ignore your reality.  I’m saying that seeing these as blocks comes from a place of fear, of scarcity.

And, for the record, I share from deep, personal experience.  I was on the track on which so many of us are placed:  good grades, good school, good job, beautiful family, nice house and happiness ever after.

 And then four years ago, I was called… into prison.  Yes, literally.  One morning, in my meditation, I heard the words “to go prison.”  I had never even considered this portion of our society.  I’ll admit that prison simply did not exist in my world.  And yet, I felt this profound tug, deep, deep inside me.  I could have ignored it; relative to the other screaming voices in my head, it was faint.  And it was persistent.  And so, finally, after some continued internal nagging, I took the first step:  I googled “prisons in San Diego.”

 And every step on this journey – from my first time in maximum-security prison, to starting to organize a TEDx event inside prison, to deciding to put my professional ambitions on hold to found a nonprofit, to realizing that this journey is about healing our society’s cycle of separation and violence – EVERY step has been taken in this way:

• Release what I believe to be true

• Listen to that voice within – my brilliance inside, as I call it – that speaks truth

• Trust that I’m completely supported

• Take the step

This takes COURAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 And it creates miracles!  I could write a book about the miracles already created.  Miracles for myself, for the prison residents, for victims of violent crime, for the volunteer team, for the prison system, for our community-at-large.

 So, can you have the courage to have the courage to take the first step and honestly explore your big idea?  (Yup, it takes courage to step into courage.)  You simply have no idea of the brilliance you’ll create, the lives you’ll change, the rewards you’ll receive, the unbelievable life you’ll get to live.

Meet another long-time Brilliance Inside volunteer, Vivienne Bennett, as she divulges the differences she experienced between her Improv classes “on the streets” at Finest City Improv and her Improv experience inside Donovan as facilitator Gary Ware joined us for a couple sessions.

Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash

Improv class, level II, at Finest City Improv in San Diego, Fall 2018. A dozen strangers in the room. Our teacher, Gary Ware, leads us in exercise after exercise designed to break down barriers in our brains that inhibit spontaneous thought, action and talking. We remain strangers albeit laughing nervously together. We take an 8-week class. We become more comfortable with each other. But still, we are shy, worried about how others perceive us, afraid of failure, of not being funny. We work, work, work at those exercises and begin to feel the brain shift, the letting go. After each class we quickly pack up and go home, tired, sometimes exhilarated, but needing to get back to our busy lives. We don’t talk about what it means to us or how we are changing.

Fast forward to August 2019, Donovan Correctional Facility, A Yard. Improv class with Gary and about 20 Donovan residents. He starts us on the same exercises to free our brains, to build spontaneity. The resident “men in blue” have never done anything like this together and we have never done anything like this with them. There is no hanging back. Even the young resident who never talks is all in. There is laughter. But it’s not nervous laughter, it’s laughter from the gut. It’s laughter from men who are in joy. It’s laughter from men who had the worst childhoods imaginable and are laughing as only children do. It’s laughter from men whose brains are freed momentarily from the rigors of prison life. But then it becomes more, so much more. Gary asks what each exercise means to us, and without hesitation or shyness, each “resident in blue” can’t wait to talk about how this exercise made them feel more confident, how that exercise made them feel connected to others, how the other exercise brought them to feel intimacy within themselves and trust with the rest of us in the room, about how they feel human in ways they had not experienced in years or decades or maybe ever.

On the outside, even after 8 weeks in Improv class, there has been very little revealing of oneself to others, very little connection to each other. On the inside, in a place that is built around deprivation, rules, uncertainty, division, separation, loneliness and fear, Improv brings connection, joy and intimacy. And most importantly, each resident in blue is bursting at the seams to talk about it all. Even after one class, we are bonded by trust, by our willingness to be authentic with each other, to cut to the deepest and most urgent parts of ourselves.

Time and time again, I find that communication among the program participants is deeper, more authentic, more complex and more worthwhile on a regular basis than any communication with a roomful of 20 people on the outside ever is. The residents we work with want to grow, they want to learn and they approach the work with us with openness, earnestness, and commitment. I feel privileged to be part of this group, to have the honor of participating in the vulnerabilities that are shared and addressed, to experience the caring and trust between the unlikeliest of group members, and to feel my own humanity as part of a group that too many in our society thinks has none.