Friday, August 20, 2010

Friday Prime Time Spotlight: San Francisco

Here it is...

3 of my favorite spotlights on San Francisco...

SAN FRANCISCO!! WOW!

IT'S ALL THERE!

VISIONARIES IN ACTION,

POWERFULLY EFFECTIVE PROGRAMS

AND VOICES WORTH LISTENING TO!!!

GOTTA LOVE IT!

#1 Delancy Street

Delancy Street and Dr. Mimi Silbert...I have known about this program for about 5 years or so now...this program just blows me away!

Incredible impact and hope for people who are at the end of their rope!





#2 The Beat Within

Ming Toy Lee speaking about events in her life...this young lady has a long history with The Beat Within...speaking to the powerful positive difference this program has on young people caught up by negative influences on the streets and challenged to be more, do more of what's positive and avoid the negative that keeps one in a cycle of violence and incarceration.


#3 Train and Patrick Monahan

Wow! Patrick Monahan! Love that voice! Here's When I Look To The Sky with Train...


(Maybe this town will be my next destination in about 5 or so years! =)

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Storytelling on Sunday - A photographic journey

Mural on 2nd St. and Copper in downtown Albuquerque
My first exposure to wall art in New Mexico 2009

August 2009 ... arrived in Albuquerque by bus and began my trek across the downtown area to my rental car location about 4 blocks away. This was about 7:00am and the streets seemed to be somewhat deserted, except for cars and a few scattered wanderers, like myself.

I was on my way to Santa Fe and Taos to take photos of murals and take in "artistic atmosphere". As I wheeled my luggage along the streets towards my destination, I discovered wall art all around me. I ended up taking photos of 5 murals in a half hour, right there in Albuquerque. I was intrigued.

Graffiti art across the road from my hotel...
glad I took the photos when I did as they no longer exist...
new photos have taken their place.

I soon found out that wall art was a norm along Route 66 and definitely got swept up in the glory of it all. Photo after photo, and I was hooked.

Wall art on Nob Hill in UNM area, Route 66

As I was saying my plan for August 9th and 10th, 2009 in New Mexico was actually to spend the majority of my time in Santa Fe and Taos, but I found myself caught up in the art scene in Albuquerque and had little desire to leave. Finally Albuquerque had gotten my attention, once again.

All up and down Route 66/Central I traveled taking photo after photo in the UNM/Nob Hill area. I liked the town, the weather (which was hot in the day, but cool in the evenings in August) and the art. I could not get over all the art. Wow! Compared to Phoenix, this town seemed to celebrate its wall artists.

It seemed Albuquerque had a hand in rearranging my plans this trip. Who would have imagined that 23 years later we'd have so many interests in common? Hmmmm...the wheels started turning and continued, even after I boarded the bus to head back to my Phoenix home...

Mural on Warehouse 21-a youth art center in Santa Fe

Rio Grande Gorge near Taos, New Mexico 2009

Oh, and by the way, I did eventually get to northern New Mexico in 2009, but my trip to Santa Fe and Taos was somewhat inconsequential and not quite what I had planned. Once I got north of Albuquerque, my attention turned to the outdoors. By this point I found my mind was saturated with art, and so I was content to just hang out along the Rio Grande and take photos of the beautiful surroundings. I don't know what it is, but there is just something about me and rivers.

Rio Grande River, north of Santa Fe

It is hard to believe that last August I was simply visiting and now just a year later I actually reside in Albuquerque, New Mexico. But then I'm not totally surprised, because Albuquerque has been beckoning to me since 1986. And I'm starting to think she remembers that I spurned her initial open invitation to me...so many years ago.

Here's the story of what happened...

Yes! Back in 1986 - 1987 I had strongly considered moving to Albuquerque. My intention in the summer of 1987 was to help out at Cross Bar X Youth Ranch in Durango, Colorado during drama camp and then move to Albuquerque. I had worked as a counselor at Cross Bar X the summer of 1986. This event had made such a significant impact on my life and at the time I had a strong desire to continue working with Cross Bar X. They were planning (or already had in place, can't remember which) an outreach and ministry to kids in Albuquerque, like the one they already had in Denver. It seemed like an exciting opportunity, as I wanted to work with others in a camp/ranch ministry.

But I really didn't have the finances to follow this dream on my own, and so after a reality check by my father about my financial situation, I resigned to do the right thing and move back to my parents' home after college. Back to Nebraska I went and as I got caught up in life as a twenty-something, Albuquerque, New Mexico became just a fond memory. Whether this decision was motivated out of obedience or fear or lack of faith, I do not know, but I do know the impact of that decision set the course of my life up to this very day.

It seems somewhat ironic that finances played a major role in my decision to abandon my plans to move to Albuquerque in 1987, and now in 2010 (23 years later) finances have finally allowed me to follow these earlier "imaginings" with a totally different motivation in my heart and mind.

Maybe I'm paying for the fact that I ignored her earlier calls in my direction, and then chose Phoenix instead (motivated by love/friendship and immaturity) when I had the chance to strike out and settle in the Southwest. Maybe Albuquerque couldn't help but notice that I abandoned her for another once again. And it didn't take long for me to fall in love with Arizona. Most likely my extended stay in Phoenix made that fact apparent. Really I had pretty much put Albuquerque out of my heart and mind until that fateful visit last August.


So my bubble, of a new start in this artistic destination (with the mountains to boot), may soon burst, if I am unable to survive this current employment climate and land a position somewhere. I don't really want to think that I may have to leave, but it seems a possibility.

Well what can I expect? I thought she'd would be "keen" to see me, but instead I've experienced a surprising amount of aloof indifference since arriving here (most evident to me in the area of job hunting). It's almost like Albuquerque's saying "So?!!" You show up after all this time and want me to welcome you with open arms?! Hmmph! Well I just don't know!" Sometimes you cannot convince a place or person you deserve a second (or maybe it's a third) chance when "feelings of distant rejection" (may) linger.

I can only hope the penance will soon end, and the town of Albuquerque will find it in her heart to forgive me and accept me as one of her own. I may have to put in lots of extra effort to convince her I really do want to stay and that I'm not on the rebound! (...lol...)


I hope to someday soon visit both Santa Fe and Taos again, along with a host of others destinations here in New Mexico. There's Roswell, Ruidoso, and Carlsbad Caverns, and the White Sands National Monument...just to mention a few.

Now that I'm finally here, I realize there is lots of wonderful potential. With so many interesting places to explore, and decent people and myriads of opportunities just under the surface, I'm surely hoping I get the chance to stay and contribute. But one can't force a new beginning, sometimes the seeds don't grow for a variety of reasons. I guess ultimately there's gotta be the "right" timing and an open heart for opportunities to present themselves to a willing hand. Right now I'm thinking the next 3 months will hold the answer to whether I've found a home or I'm just passing through.

I have scattered photos throughout this post of my 2009 trip to New Mexico. Enjoy!

Friday, August 13, 2010

Behold! Creative, therapeutic outpourings!

When David Inocencio and the Beat Within staff came to Durango in 2003, they shared this writing with us. Though the name of the author was not given, this piece speaks for itself.

A Sound Silence

When you read this

Realize I’m not asking for pity.

But I’m trying to share my experience

As I experience it.

The most influential person in my life

is no more.

And it is because of his death

that he has influenced me so much.

I didn’t want what happened

to happen .

And I could’ve never imagined

that it would happen.

After the death,

My emotions were numb,

I couldn’t think straight,

Eat a meal,

Or even sleep at night.

I would close my eyes

and have images of the night he died

pass through my head,

and I would remember everything so vividly

that I felt it was happenening right there and then.

When I did sleep,

My dreams

were only reenactments

of the night I’d wake up sweating,

Panting,

And sometime calling for him

as he died in my hands.

That is an experience that will never leave me,

The loss of human life in front of your eyes

In your arms.

Watching the last breath seep from the lips

And having no idea that this painful moment

would be relived countless times

throughout the rest of my life.

It seems that my experience

has made me realize life's fragility

It’s abrupt turns

And its sudden ends.

I now have to make the most

of every moment

Even though my life doesn’t seem worth living anymore.

I don’t feel my experience would be different

to anyone who saw those ten minutes of my life.

Who saw those ten minutes go by a blink of a eye,

But at the same time lasted forever.

Those moments are still occurring now

In my mind

As you read these words;

Every day he dies again,

Every day I grieve,

Every day he dies again,

Never more will I be free.

Anonymous

This piece is reflective of the words written and shared by many young people found in detention. They often spoke of witnessing death or the losses of friends to gang violence. Not only was death a reoccurring theme, but such topics brought intense emotions. The kids often seemed stuck in that moment or in the memory of the death, reliving it over and over, memorializing their friend or "homie". Experiencing events such as these often seemed to intensify feelings of hopeless and a reckless abandon of the future, expecting and anticipating a similar fate for themselves.

I will never forget an experience I had with a young man in 2003. While in detention after just being committed to time in ADOBE, he found out that his older brother had just been shot and killed. What added to his pain was that he was not to be allowed to attend his brother's funeral for a variety of reasons. His shock, anger and anguish were heart wrenching. I couldn't help but sob, right along with him while, at the same time, trying to give him comfort and hope.

A Sound Silence describes another common phenomenon in the juvenile detention setting, that of jarring dreams, nightmares and night terrors. It was common for young people to share experiences of intense dreams and flashbacks, explaining why they had gotten little sleep the night before or what was really bothering them or why they didn't want to go to sleep or why they were on suicide watch. They often expressed how these reoccurring images left them with feelings of dread, fear and great sadness.

Due to the nature or content of these creative writings, staff often expressed rebuttals or wariness of The Beat Within. The kids wrote out of their own experiences...and yes! those experiences were often dark and full of pain and trauma.

As someone who has been journaling for years, myself, I understood the importance of these creative writing experiences. Not only were these young people being given an opportunity to talk and share their opinions on a variety of topics and to develop their writing skills, but writing and journaling provided them with a therapeutic outlet.

Writing about one's pain is like the release valve on a pressure cooker, and can ease the tension, anger, or hopelessness, just enough, to allow one to continue on for another day or another moment, without acting out in a destructive manner towards self or others.

My personal and professional opinion is that the presence of a creative, therapeutic writing program, such as The Beat Within, is a necessary positive outlet for pain, anger, frustration and a host of intense emotions, experiences, and thought patterns. In my experience and observations over the 12+ years of working with kids in detention, journaling and creative writing increases safety and security on a unit by providing a value for pent up anger, pain, boredom, frustration, and despair. Declaring this witness again in verses from Hope Found...

Recognizing this truth

and then witnessing year in and year out

the proof

in the power of the written and spoken word

to give opportunity for expression of soul.

Even when to live

is unbearable and confusing,

it’s a relief to know you’re not alone

in your experience and the emotional truth you own.

...At what a mind can become

when the pain is released and one,

bent on restoration and redemption,

finds life not death

Hopefully it will spread

this vision of releasing voices in the west

across the nation,

Stand not in the way of this tide lest

the overwhelmed dam of hate and strife

break and down us all

finding our voices may we stand or silent we may fall

Don’t stop writing beaten hearts,

write what you can, say what you need to say

Write as if your very lives depended upon it

Tkaeu

Tribute to The Beat Within

In 2007 I was involved in a fundraising project with Maricopa County. It was a talent show and I chose to enter and showcase a Spoken Word piece. I need to eventually get it put on video...maybe a personal project to complete soon. But here it is in written form...it took me about a month to write. When I started writing it wasn't necessarily my intention to put together a tribute to The Beat Within, but being involved in this program was what made me excited and "pumped" about my job and working in the detention setting. I guess it was inevitable that out of my soul would flow a piece that spoke about what was nearest and dearest to my heart at that time.

Hope Found

Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks

Pouring out self on paper, what is it anyone seeks

In creating verses worth repeating,

could it be the sublime

Accepting the inevitable

that articulate verses and rhymes

Will flow sometimes when I least expect it,

in hard times

When the emotions I carry within

are no longer contained

Sometimes I surprise myself,

and am surprised at the same

in others, how in the midst of personal pain

one can be so inspired

Life has often pummeled

a creative soul aspiring

to reach within for a glimpse of heaven

others may behold.

I guess it stands without reason

that talent will unfold

and come to light in dark places,

where you find hearts aching.

Yes, there are people held in prisons

of their own making.

Sometimes these prisons are hard to detect,

others perpetrating

incredulous acts of violence or greed

find themselves

now estimating

the days they will have to spend

behind intimidating walls.

Their desperation found in pent up scrawls

Searing words stabbing paper,

endless verses

intimating deep emotions,

once hidden in foul curses.

For beaten hearts, is there hope?

The answer is found when one reads

the words written by teens doing time.

Hope harvested after planting seeds

of literacy that could lift these young minds

out of the haze

and challenge them to grow

beyond limitations. In juvenile detention,

I’ve seen young people come and go

talented and intelligent,

yet scoffing at education in school,

eyeing authority with bravado

and distrust, identifying with the gang

and drug culture.

Entrepreneurs, in a sense, looking for a quick buck

But it’s when they hear the loud clang of metal,

are enveloped in silence and endlessly stuck

in their own thoughts, needing a listening ear,

an outlet for the emotions they hold back

that once ignored, books and reading

take on new meaning,

relieve the boredom. And the impact

on this captive audience

is that they might just get hooked

on the power of words

and the relief of finding an audience

for what flows through their soul...

so how will they be heard?

In 2003 editors and writers from San Francisco,

visited the Valley of the Sun

and shared their vision and goal

of a publication releasing voices in juvie hall

through paper and pencil,

The Beat Within,

birthed in the heart of Sandy Close and David Inocencio

Perceiving these teenagers

could no longer remain ignored

Beat staff began a journey of exploration,

because they’d been floored

in 1996 from the intensity of emotion sparked

by Tupac’s demise.

Now what The Beat Within attempts to create

each week

flies

in the face of conventional wisdom.

But after witnessing the grief

and widespread loss of a generation,

found in piece after piece,

reflecting the heart of detained youth

is what staff in the Bay

strive for, releasing imprisoned minds and hearts

by providing a way

for young people to find themselves

and to know that they are not alone

This medium of self-expression is sewn

together with pulsating heart

and sheds light on dark subjects.

What Beat writers have to say

is sometimes shocking, and reflects

a view of society struggling beneath a weight

of confusing messages of worshipping wealth

and expressing hate

through computerized violence;

the rich and famous pampering their pets

while returning from war, as heroes, Iraq war vets

who deserve

efficient, top notch medical and psychiatric care

are left instead to face the reality

of Vet hospitals in disrepair;

look into the inner cities,

find american dreams mired in dope

sold to make a profit at another’s expense,

a risky downhill slope

work hard to achieve the American dream…

but isn’t it funny,

deranged that some of our hardest workers

are making

the least amount of money?

Yet we still subscribe to have all we can,

no matter what the cost

And we say the best things in life are free,

while lost

in mounting credit card debt

amidst materialistic wonder

Facing personal lack and faceless existence,

family’s asunder,

teens looking to belong and fit in,

find themselves locked in a cell

Sent to prison for their attempts at seizing heaven

while living in hell

Is it any wonder our young people are confused

and tell us they are lacking in hope,

Contemplating their futures while high off dope

No sense in setting goals, don’t plan to live

past twenty one

Is it possible the ruthless nature

they are thrust into

can be undone

We believe we can contain hate and strife

behind barbed wires

but I ask instead is there a lesson to be learned

in all the forest fires

engulfing second homes up the coast

and mountainous desert terrain

That it only takes a spark, a flame fueled

by fury uncontained

to destroy what we hold dear.

Recognizing this truth

and then witnessing year in and year out

the proof

in the power of the written and spoken word to give

opportunity for expression of soul.

Even when to live

is unbearable and confusing,

it’s a relief to know you’re not alone

in your experience

and the emotional truth you own

I give props to The Beat Within for stepping up

against great odds

Year after year advocating for young men

and women living in pods

of stone and steel, not fanning the flames

of hate and strife, but offering answers to games

of life played out for decades

and challenging us

to open our eyes

and see that our youth behind bars

have a voice and the size

of audacity and talent that when nurtured

with time and direction

may result in a positive impact on a community,

may stun

a neighborhood not with fear

but awe and amazement

at what a mind can become

when the pain is released and one, bent

on restoration and redemption,

finds life not death

Hopefully it will spread

this vision of releasing voices

in the west

across the nation,

stand not in the way of this tide lest

the overwhelmed dam of hate and strife

break and down us all

finding our voices may we stand or silent

we may fall

Don’t stop writing beaten hearts,

write what you can,

say what you need to say

Write as if your very lives depended upon it...

Props Beat Within for each and every day

You give hope and a voice to beaten hearts.

Hearts with lessons of life, resilient,

the words they impart

Takes flight above stone and sand.

Hope found

In being read...heard...

valued...profound.

Tkaeu

092907