Loss appears in many different forms. There is the loss of a loved one. The loss of security. The loss of freedom. The loss of identity. And on and on and on the list goes. Where does it end?
Recently I had the opportunity to visit some of the residents in the Grand Valley Institute “womens” federal prison. These lives were shrouded in loss. There was the loss experienced by those who were affected by the actions of GVI’s residents; the ones that landed them in prison. There was the loss experienced by the families of those who are incarcerated and living without that person, their income, their relationship, their support, etc. And, there is the loss of freedom that comes with being in prison.
Today, as we look at foraging meaning we’ll look at a few stories of inmates who are fumbling for meaning on the inside. As well as stories from victims who are stumbling to pick up the pieces of what remains and carve out a new path forward. Listening to both sides of these stories is one step towards restorative justice.
The following are just some of the images found in the “Facing life after violence” display currently located within the Community Justice Initiatives office in Kitchener.
“It’s like a rabbit up in the corner that can’t get out. It keeps trying but eventually it just dies there.
I was running wild, like an animal. I was violent because it seemed nobody understood me. I couldn’t explain myself and it came out like violent storms. Then I started getting in touch with myself by being alone. That’s what made me happy. So I just stay alone.”
Trina Garnett began her life sentence in 1977.
“It’s a tunnel without light at the end. It just goes nowhere. An endless black hole that keeps sucking everything in…What makes it tolerable is hope. You can’t exist without hope.”
Bruce Bainbridge began his life sentence in 1982.
“A life sentence is a glass bottle. You’re planted in this foreign soil, this cultural abyss. They want you to grow, but in growing if you aren’t careful you begin to take the shape and form of your environment. one of my proudest accomplishments is that I have managed to grow without taking the shape of my environment.”
Betty Heron’s life sentence began in 1984.
“For me, the principle virtue in life is courage. I life life like a soldier in battle. I have to charge up the hill against darkness, human viciousness, ignorance. I’m a soldier for peace.”
Joseph Baretta’s sister was murdered. The courts have not been able to prove who took her life.
“You’ve just completed this beautiful puzzle. All of a sudden someone comes along and just swishes it off the table and you have to start putting it back together. Then there’s a piece missing that you just can’t find anywhere…I’m a butterfly person, just flapping my wings and going. Now I’m hoping to make a difference in people’s lives. I’ve gotten involved in victim services because…I’m hoping to make a difference in someone’s life, not by giving advice, but by walking through it with them, by being a leaning post.”
Joanne Vogt’s sister was killed by a drunk driver; a repeat offender.
“It is so important to tell the truth. That’s what the book I wrote is about – getting the cleansing through the truth…Writing that book cleansed me and made me feel whole.
I am a victim and I am a triumphant survivor. At first I was really a zombie, a walking dead woman. Now I am alive.”
Sandra Murphy’s ex-husband stalked her and shot her in the face.
Below is a painting by Manas Ghanem, a reinterpretation, reinvention of the story.
“Sandra tells us the story of a walking dead woman turned triumphant survivor. Despite all the pain and the trauma, she is still amazingly strong, beautiful, and authentic. It reminds me of gold that does not lose it’s true value no matter what happens. The golden colour is a life full of hope, care, and it is welcoming…but it is still okay to feel pain. It takes time to recover and put yourself together! But it is time to get up and reclaim your life.” ~ Manas Ghanem
Those on the inside are human just like those of us outside of prison’s walls. I recently had the opportunity to visit the Grand Valley Institute and speak to the residents about suicide prevention; equipping them with tools to help themselves, help one another, and even be supports to those they interact with in the outside community. Hurt people hurt people, as the old saying goes. I also believe helped people help people. Through the support of incredible programs like those run by Community Justice Initiatives, more and more of those valuable lives on the inside who have caused hurt from a place of hurt, now have a higher chance of become helped people who help people, finding new purpose and meaning in their existence and human restoration.
To learn more about one dimension of the vast work being done by Community Justice Initiatives please watch the video below.
CJI – STRIDE Circles – HD from Community Justice Initiatives on Vimeo.
To learn more about the Grand Valley Institute womens federal prison please listen to the CBC interviews below the following video.