Who gets to make art?
Who gets to be human?
On Tuesday, New York Focus reported that the state’s Department of Corrections and Community Supervision had established “a stringent, months-long approval process for people in its custody to publish creative work, including books, art, music, poetry, film scripts, and other writing.”
In other words, no art or journalism behind bars that isn’t vetted beforehand, and even if it is approved, “incarcerated participants may not receive any prize, gift, or proceeds” from it.
Thankfully, and in no small part due to the attention brought by local journalism, this directive was quickly reversed, but it surely won’t be the last attempt to stifle creativity inside correctional facilities. In a space where choices have to be made between buying necessities like toothpaste or calling home, regulating art is another assault on incarcerated individuals’ humanity, and a disservice to the idea of restorative justice.
John J. Lennon is serving time at Sullivan Correctional Facility in Upstate New York. He’s also a journalist who illuminates prison life and advocates for his peers through work that’s appeared in the The New York Times and Esquire.
“I’ve worked through what I did — murder a man — on the page,” he said in a message to New York Focus. “In the absence of any restorative justice programming offered by corrections, that would help foster a dialogue between us and our victims, writing was the only opportunity for me to reflect on it at all.”
A few years ago, I went to an exhibit at MoMA PS1 called “Marking Time: Art in the Age of Mass Incarceration.” The entire collection was provocative, but what broke my heart was a letter from an inmate named Billy Sell about how he wouldn’t be able to partake in the same reflection that benefitted Mr. Lennon:
Regret sinks into my heart heavily. I will not be able to properly participate in the art program, I’M SORRY. I feel as though I have wasted your time. However my tools as you will see prohibit me from giving you a solid effort. The only paper that I have access to is this that I am writing on. Being housed in Security Lock-Up (SHU) I am unable to purchase drawing paper let alone supplies. I did do exercises 1-6…the poor quality is a waste of your time.
Here was a man interested in the same self-exploration, and it broke my heart not only that he couldn’t attain basic supplies, but that instead of being frustrated with the restrictions of his institution, he internalized the blame and felt that the effort he could muster wasn’t worth anyone else’s time.
Everyone, no matter their station, should have access to clean water, nutritious food, community contact, and yes, the ability to express themselves through the art form of their choosing. When we deny these rights, we stray further from justice, and only feed the cycle of pain and punishment for all involved.