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My Facebook has been inundated with friends mourning the death of Esme Barrera these last couple of days and it has been horrible and heartbreaking to read about. I did not know Esme but wish I had – she seems like the kind of smart, caring woman who I would admire. I did not know Stephanie either – maybe she didn’t come to my class or only came once or twice – but I think I would have admired her as well. The women I meet in my class have endured such hardships and face such demons but they usually remain optimistic that their lives will get better, that this is the turning point, that they now have what it takes to get back out into the world and win.

And it’s so heartbreaking that the world sometimes does not let them. Sometimes what’s wrong with the world is stronger than one woman. In this battle to keep women safe, to keep them whole, sometimes we lose. My husband wrote about Stephanie as well, and one of her family members left a comment on his site thanking him for writing about her and telling him that she wasn’t homeless by choice but by circumstance; she wanted to fight her demons on her own. She had been to rehab several times but it hadn’t worked out. Her family tried to help her. While we live in different communities, Stephanie’s family mourns her just as much as my community is mourning Esme right now. While Esme’s friends are posting online, passengers of the #7 bus discussed Stephanie today. I don’t want to draw comparisons between the two or say that one is worse than the other. They are both horrible. Neither should have happened.

I want to remember women like Stephanie and families like Stephanie’s who live with and fight addiction. I meet women every week at the jail and now at Austin Recovery who are battling for their very lives and who really want to change. This is not easy work for them. I don’t know if it ever ends.

-Kat Craft

Edit: I want to add that after hearing from Stephanie’s families and friends, I realize just how small a city Austin is and how close we all are to one another. I wrote about “my” community and “her” community but the two overlap so much that they are really the same. I also spoke with a friend of Stephanie’s at Austin Recovery today, and she said that she could always tell that Stephanie had family who loved her and cared about her. The women at Austin Recovery are keeping y’all in their thoughts and prayers.

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Conspire alum Lauren Johnson continues her series on incarceration, addiction, criminal justice and life in general.

Recently I had the opportunity to tag along with Kat to an “Inner View” with KOOP personality Abigail Mahnke. Kat did a fabulous job talking about her craft, (pun intended) and I thought going in that I was prepared for the usual questions that I am asked about Conspire. For the most part that was true although there was a small section that I stumbled around in and couldn’t think clearly enough to articulate what I would have wanted to say. All of that said, Abigail asked me an unexpected question that I didn’t stumble with. I do, however, think that it is a question that I would like to explore a little more here. We were discussing how many of the women that come into prison have experienced some type of trauma. Abigail asked me if that was true for me and I was a little vague with my answer.

The truth of the matter is that I can remember two instances of sexual abuse. The first one happened when I was four or five years old. A friend of mine and I were playing in the apartments that we lived in, counting mailboxes. Some guy came over and I really don’t remember how he got us to go with him. I remember that he took us to an apartment, had us masturbate him and then gave us items and sent us on our way. I remember thinking it was yucky. I remember that my friend was given a nice watch, and I was given some sort of magazine. I don’t know if I was told or if it was just my own thought that she got a better prize because I didn’t do a good job. This is my thought as a child. I know we didn’t go straight back and tell our parents and I am not sure why.

Eventually my friend and I told some lady that was moving into the complex as we were talking to her. Of course she went and told our parents. I remember going to the police station and looking through mug shot books. I really didn’t recognize the guy (or at least that is my memory now) But my friend did, or maybe she just said she did so we could leave. I also seem to remember her and I leading a small SWAT team to the apartment that we were taken to. I don’t know anything beyond that of what happened with the whole thing.

The next time something happened to me, I was thirteen. It was the morning of November 22, 1990. You may think that it is significant that I remember the date, but I didn’t. I just know that it happened the morning of Thanksgiving. I had snuck out of the house and gone over to the house of a friend of mine where I hung out sometimes. It was about a 30 minute walk from my house to there, but this was something that I did on a fairly regular basis. I had hung out with my friend and then around 1 or 2 am, I began my trek back home. About half way through the walk I heard a man coming up behind me. I looked back and saw him a few steps back but it wasn’t until he wrapped his hand around my mouth that I knew I was in trouble. He walked me around to the side of a house just off the main road. He put a dog leash around my neck and threatened to choke me if I made any noise. I wasn’t sure that I was going to live through the experience. Once he was finished, he left and I went back to the pay phone and called my friend collect. My friend met me at that store and brought me back and sat there with me while I cried, and showered and cried.

It was an awful and traumatic experience. The thought that kept crossing my mind afterward was that as awful as that was, I can’t imagine how much worse it would be if it had been someone I knew and trusted. I knew more than one girl who had gone through something like that with a father, or uncle. I went back home at 5 or so in the morning and snuck back in through the window. I laid there thinking about all the possible consequences that could still be pending. What if I was pregnant, or had an STD or HIV? Then I heard a loud thump on the door. A racing thought that the man had followed me ran through my mind. Just like the girl in the horror movie, I go to the door to find out…. it was the morning paper. My mom must have discovered that I had left that night because she came into my room and asked where I had been. I lied and said I had been sleeping in an alcove of my closet. I doubt she bought it, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue with me that morning. She left the room, but not before saying something to the effect of:“one of these days something bad is going to happen. You are going to get raped or murdered and then what?”

I remember that whole day being off kilter to me. I was smart enough to make an appointment with Planned Parenthood where I could be seen without payment. I got tested for everything, and I got on birth control. I am thankful that they were there! I was thankful that everything turned out negative. My rape experience was the worst thing I have endured at the hands of someone else. In the scheme of my life it comes second only to the experience of going back to jail after having my son and being separated from him.

There were other times growing up when I had the feeling that if a person had the chance to do something to me, they would. So those were the people that I never allowed to have that opportunity. My stories are not that bad considering the stories that I have heard from other women. I don’t say that to minimize it. I don’t think that these instances had anything to do with the direction that my life went. I dealt with them in a healthy way and chose not to spend a lot of time dwelling on them once I did. It is a part of my story, but it doesn’t define me. Everyone experiences things differently, and just because I bounced back from these experiences doesn’t mean that everyone should handle it the same way. Each individual has to go through their own process. The recommendation I would make to someone going through that is: feel the feeling, the sadness, the anger, the grief, the fear. All of those “bad emotions” that aren’t bad at all. Set a time limit. Don’t allow it to take over your life. Talk about it with someone you trust. Talking about it helps to release the power that it holds over you.

Ed. note: If you have experienced rape or sexual abuse, there are several low cost and/or free counseling services available. Contact Capitol Area Counseling, the YWCA or call 211 to find info about victim services.

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When Lauren first approached me about volunteering for Conspire, it took me a little while to think about what she could do. Then I remembered how much she enjoyed writing in class and that at some point, she had been working on a novel. With everything else that I do, it can be hard to stay on top of the blog, so I decided to offer the position of guest blogger to Lauren. She accepted and I thought, “Great – I’ll get a few posts and get to keep in touch with her.”

Several months and many many posts later, I have to say that I’ve been so impressed with Lauren’s commitment to both the blog and to researching and furthering social change. We don’t agree on everything, but I really respect her opinion and experience. I’ve learned from her and enjoy editing and reading her posts every week.

Thanks again Lauren!

-Kat Craft

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We would love to see you! Email conspiretheatre@gmail.com or call 512-222-6798 if you have any questions.

-Kat Craft

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At one point during my addiction I became aware that I don’t like to feel emotions that are unpleasant. Nothing surprising about that I guess. I mean who really does? I was aware that doing meth, in combination with my crossword and scratch off bingo lottery tickets, was a way for me to avoid feeling those things. I vividly remember a summer after a very difficult break up. For months shortly after I woke up in the morning (I did usually sleep, just not more than a few hours), I would start a book of crossword puzzles that I would finish later that day. Some people were amazed at this. I simply told them what I had figured out – that if I am solving a crossword puzzle, it is almost impossible to think about anything else.

In treatment, we were exploring the subject of feelings and I mentioned this. I had an AHA moment that one of my “thinking errors” as we called them, was not wanting to feel or deal with anything unpleasant. There was a neater term that we used for that, but I don’t recall what it was. Point being that feeling sad, or mad, or angry, are things that a lot of people often try to avoid.

We spoke about fear. In the beginning of the discussion the participants talked about how fear was bad. The general consensus in the room was that it is not good to be scared.  We were in a prison setting so admitting fear may just be unnatural for that environment. The facilitators began to bring up instances when fear is the instinct that keeps you alive. It warns us to help us stay unharmed. Fear of touching a fire keeps us from getting burned. Therefore fear is not inherently bad. WOW! What a profound thought. That “negative” emotions weren’t bad. Just something that everyone experiences.

The facilitator said something else that day that struck me as profound. Many of us fall victim to one thing or another. Have a difficult time at some point in our journey. Often people will ask the question “Why Me?!” To which she replied, WHY NOT YOU?! What makes you so special that you shouldn’t have to endure some hard times in your life? Why not you, when there are people around this world who have an enormously difficult life compared to you? Every day people suffer. Lose loved ones, lose possesions, don’t eat, etc.

I got to really absorb that. I thought about how even in prison, we had a lot of luxuries that millions of people around the world, do not have. Millions of people that did not committ crimes don’t get three meals a day and a fresh pair of clothes to wear.

I had the realization that actually feeling things that feel uncomfortable, or even “bad” is a part of life. It is something that is natural, and meant to be. Realizing it helped me change my perspective about the way I deal with situations. It also has an impact on how I advise people who come to me for help. I often tell people to feel it. Give a certain amount of time to feel the yucky feelings and experience it as much as you can bear and then some. The only way out is to go through it. Not sure where I heard that sentence but it is truly significant.

I remember a story that I believe illustrates that point. An anecdote of a caterpillar struggling in its cacoon. Someone happens upon it and notices its struggle. Not wanting to see the poor caterpillar go through such a tough time the person surgically frees the caterpillar from the cacoon. The problem of course being, that it is necessary for the caterpillar to struggle through its metamorphosis in order for it to grow into the butterfly it was meant to be. The same way our struggles in life strengthen us and transform us. Similary, if we avoid going through it, we are unable to move past it.

Unfortunately this isn’t a problem that is only found among drug addicts. This is such a common problem that I thought it even more important to write about it. Stuffed feelings have a way of manifesting in a plethora of unhealthy ways. One of the things that I have noticed in the majority of classes that I have taken in conjunction with rehabiliation is that in the beginning everyone is handed a piece of paper with a list of “feeling” words and a bunch of emoticons next to them to aid in understanding. When a class starts everyone is asked to go around the room and say their name and how they feel. Amazing that such a simple thing could be so important. I think everyone should have to do this throughout their day. It should be standard starting in elementary school. Being able to identify feelings and communicate them is a very important skill. All too often we avoid feeling them so much that we have a hard time identifying them for ourselves much less communicating it to someone else. Being able to communicate those feelings appropriately to another person has a lot of healing power in it. Hearing things said out loud helps to process the thought in a more complete way. It is often surprising that something so simple that can aid in the complex problems that we have. Journaling is another thing that sounds so easy that it seems ridiculous that it could help us through a hard spot in life. It seems that way unless you have tried it and seen for yourself. I think Myspace was onto something having people sign in and do a feelings check along with their status. I wonder if we could get Facebook on board with an idea like that? Let’s start thinking about what it really is we are feeling. Pay special attention to emotions like anger since that is a tricky one and usually has an underlying emotion fueling it. Don’t be scared to feel it. Then don’t get so stuck in it that you don’t move beyond it!

-Lauren Johnson

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Oprah Winfrey spoke of a vision board. The idea behind that vision board is that if you can imagine something specific then you are open to receive the possibility and opportunity as it comes your way. You can recognize it when it comes. She gave the example of buying a car. Once you buy a car, then every where you go, you begin to see that kind of car. It isn’t because that model became really popular after you purchased it, it is because now you recognize it when you see it. It is a concept that I can see play out in my life constantly.

Visualization and planning can bring us closer to where and who we want to be. In only a few short weeks we will be ringing in a new year. This is a great time to contemplate, to visualize and to plan. Reading the article that Kat posted about the woman who was sentenced to 3 years in federal prison for lying on a food stamp application to put food on her table really sent it home for me, that the things I want to change really do have a far reaching impact. Honestly, I think the law is silly but in the back of my mind I think that if it came down to it I could go to a food bank. Well, I could if I had a car and gas in it, since we don’t live close to a bus route. I am resourceful though, but why would we make one of our most basic needs be so difficult to access? Doesn’t make any sense. So it is time to really sit down over the next few weeks. After Christmas passes the week that brings the new year in is often a week of nostalgia, contemplation and wonderment at where the journey will lead next. I don’t want to leave too much of it to chance though. So I better get busy on a vision and a plan!

I have been seeing many inspiring things around me lately. It may be because I am looking for them more than usual but whatever it is, I like it. On the evening news tonight there was a story about how a 22 year old woman strong armed Bank Of America into reversing their decision to charge more outrageous bank fees to its customers in just 30 days. That is awesome! I like the idea that anyone can make a difference!

Molly Katchpole started an online petition to get Bank Of America to repeal its decision to charge a $5 purchase fee to its customers.(http://abcnews.go.com/Business/bank-america-drops-plan-debit-card-fee/story?id=14857970) Signatures began pouring in and now the change has been made. Please note that Bank of America is one of the Big Banks that received a government bail out.

I think that this is significant, especially at a time when the Occupy movements are popping up all over the U.S and abroad. As with many of you, I have been hearing a lot on the news and in other media outlets about these protests. As best as I can figure it out, the Occupy movement stands for the little guy. They want to end corporate greed and the motto, “ We are the 99%” means to me that if we stand up for changes to be made then we can do it do what?. Especially when we are the majority. I have heard other examples of the Occupy philosophy explained that they want a redistribution of wealth – Robin Hood kind of thing if you will. That sounds good in theory, but the reality of it doesn’t mesh with me! I think that we all have to work for what we get.

Dave Ramsey had his own rant about the whole thing. I think Dave makes a lot of sense. (

In his opening line of his letter to the Occupy Wall Street, he asks some really good questions,

after he echoes the protestors cry:

“I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!” Yeah, that’s great. But what do you want? What are your goals? What are your demands? What result are you looking for?”

I think that is a good starting set of questions. I think those are questions that Molly answered straight away before she put her plan into action. That is how things get done! That is how change is made.

I have mentioned on here that one of my first orders of business with my new voter registration card is to work towards having Texas opt out of the law that began in 1996 restricting anyone with a drug related felony from receiving government assistance such as food stamps. With that goal in mind, I have made some phone calls and gotten some preliminary results! I have found out this last week that Representative Elliott Naishtat from central Austin has championed this issue and filed a number of bills and plans on filing another one this legislative session. In the spring of 2012, the representatives will begin to prepare for the 2013 legislative session, which is when I will really begin to work on this issue rather than talk about it.

When I spoke with the lady who walked me through how things happen, she sounded very excited to hear from me. The idea was tossed around that I may be asked to tell my story to aid in getting the bill passed. (Un)fortunately I don’t have the kind of story that many more unfortunate people do have.I do have a voice that I plan to use to explore the what if’s for my life and the reality of lives of others. It may be a year away but I am developing the plan to create the effect that I want to see. What happens when I accomplish this task? I start developing a plan for the next thing on my vision board!

-Lauren Johnson

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now give me my stuff/ i see ya hidin my laugh/ & how i
sit wif my legs open sometimes/ to give my crotch
some sunlight/ & there goes my love my toes my chewed
up finger nails/ niggah/ wif the curls in yr hair/
mr. louisiana hot link/ i want my stuff back/
my rhytums & my voice/ open my mouth/ & let me talk ya
outta/ throwin my shit in the sewar/ this is some delicate
leg & whimsical kiss/ i gotta have to give to my choice/
without you runnin off wit alla my shit/
now you cant have me less i give me away/ & i waz
doin all that/ til ya run off on a good thing/
who is this you left me wit/ some simple bitch
widda bad attitude/ i wants my things/

We had long discussions in both classes about what this poem was about, and why the author sounds so angry about having her stuff taken.  All of the women got it instantly – they got the metaphor and that the “stuff” is her self, her soul, her heart, her spirit.  All of the things about herself that are important to her.

I wanted to use this an example of how to work from a text so we discussed two of the big questions: who is she speaking to and what’s her objective?  What does she want?  I remember going line by line through scripts, writing the objective beside each for what felt like hundreds of pages.  To love, to ask, to seek, to demand.

“These need to be strong words,” Michelle said.  “It’s easier that play something strong.  You can always back away from it later.”  We talked about it and came up with a list included

to demand
to claim
to declare independence
to shame
to humiliate
to hurt
to accuse
and our favorite: to set on fire with my words

Although most of the women identified the object of the speech as an ex-lover, a boyfriend or someone who had taken the speaker’s virginity, one woman said that she was speaking to her addiction.  Another woman said this was to the jail itself.  “Del Valle has taken all these things from me – my joy, my dance, my rhythms.”

The performances of these lines were so powerful – even though one woman kept saying, “I’m embarrassed, it’s embarrassing to do this,” once she sat back down she declared, “That felt good.  I got something off my chest.”  These words are easy for women to own, to make their own, which is such a testament to Ms. Shange’s writing.  I finally ordered the full script off of Amazon today; we’ll be using this again and again.

-Kat Craft

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Go here or here for details.

See you there!
Kat Craft

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I have recently been getting into some intense and tiring conversations with a friend of mine. This is a guy who I use to buy drugs from, and I also used to babysit his two year old daughter. He was arrested in Williamson County for possession of methamphetamine and was sentenced to LIFE! A life sentence these days translates into 40 years. I know someone else that served 10 years on a murder charge – go figure! Part of the reason for such a large sentence is that they used a criminal history from 20 years prior to enhance the charge. I have been writing him for the last 9 years. In the beginning of his sentence he accepted Jesus into his life and you could see it in every letter. I enjoyed getting his letters because you could feel the positive energy seeping out of the paper. Even in the midst of his circumstances he had such a positive attitude that it helped me to keep a positive perspective too.

In the last year or so I have noticed a different undercurrent in his letters. I started a dialogue with him about it and asked him what was going on with him. I got a few vague answers: he hasn’t been at peace, he hasn’t been cultivating his relationship with God the way he should, and reasons such as that. I believe him, but the theme that I detect is more like an infection and now I feel hateful energy coming out of his letters. It isn’t anything direct but it is noticeable. Not too long ago he asked me to look on the computer and see if I could find any information about a racially motivated riot at a state fair in Wisconsin. (Ed. note – much of the coverage of this incident is highly charged and could be triggering, especially the comments.)

I read some of the article, and then sent it to him, not really aware yet that I was fueling a fire. In his next letter, he asked me to research something else for him. He wanted to know what race is most likely to commit violent crime. In the hopes that I could find some statistics that would level the fire out, I did do a search. Unfortunately the majority of the results that search led me on, all came to the same page. A page with information from the KKK. This time I decided not to send the pages to him. I did tell him the basics of what I found and also mentioned that it held a lot of bias considering the source.

He has since written me back with the goal of having a debate. He asked me to do more research and said he is willing to accept being wrong if I can prove it.

I did write him back, I sent him the statistics that I found in my research on drug laws and arrests and statistics on those along with some information that I found from a website I found. I included that information to get him thinking in a different way. I also told him that as far as I am concerned the statistics he is looking for, are irrelevant. In my eyes, anything that spends time fueling hate or ill feelings towards others is wasted time. The time spent looking for reasons to separate us from others could be better spent on education or spiritual development.

I know that a racial divide exists in prison. It appears intensified there and has become a part of the culture that seems impossible to change. This seems to be even more true in the men’s prisons. My experience in the woman’s prison system is limited. I have only been on a few small units, where most of the women had small sentences, I don’t have first hand knowledge of how the entire system operates.

I do get an idea based on the things I see in the letters. It is subtle, but it is there. Why is racism more pronounced in prison? My best guess? Because when inmates arrive to get processed in, they are all essentially the same.. It is a method similar to what is used in the armed forces boot camps. Everyone starts on the same level – for men that means the same hair cut, same clothes, and the same basic belongings. When they walk in the doors they are just like everyone else there. First timers don’t know what to expect and try to find a way to fit in. The most obvious commonality would be skin color.

I remember an ice breaker activity we did in a training session for the peer educators there. The instructor placed stickers of various colors on the foreheads of all the participants and then told everyone to find the people they belonged with. There were no further instructions given except that we couldn’t talk. Interestingly everyone still managed to group themselves by the color of the sticker.

Sometimes I struggle with how to deal with dialogues like the one I am having with my friend. There is a part of me that wants to fix it. The part of me that wants to say something to change the way things are or the way my friend thinks. There is a part of me that wants to give up and says stop wasting your time writing these people. I have prayed about how to handle it as well. I keep coming up with the same answer. I don’t have to fight, I don’t have to argue. It is not my responsibility to convince these people to change. The best thing I can do is operate out of love, and by doing that, be a good example. That is often the most powerful thing anyone can do. It may not be an immediate effect. It is, however, highly effective. Looking back on my life, the people that have had the biggest impact on me weren’t those who preached, or scolded. They weren’t the ones who talked the talk. It has always been the people who lived as the example. So I will continue to write my friend. I will answer his questions to me honestly. I will live as an example, and not give up. I will allow love to transcend the disagreements. If that doesn’t change anything for him, that is okay. It may impact someone later on down the line.

-Lauren Johnson

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