Mr. Pirozzi left me to figure out what he meant. As I understand it,
the cart he is being asked to pull is full of programs the institution
wants him to take; the gate that is too small is the gateway to a transformation
that he cannot make room for on their terms because it would be an admission
that they have the right to make him over. Pat Pirozzi's centaur in chains
added a powerful and evocative image to the one given to me fifteen years
before by Edgar Roussel, during an interview in the first Quebec SHU;
Mr Roussel had described the theory behind the SHU's as an attempt to
effect a metamorphosis of a prisoner from caterpillar to butterfly which
no human agency, apart from the prisoner himself, had the right to make.
During their long imprisonment in the SHU's, Terry Somerton, Lance Blanshard
and Pat Pirozzi, despite their rage and their fear that they had lost
part of their humanity in the struggle to maintain it, had found ways
to remain connected to the world outside. Terry Somerton, for whom the
physical beatings he had experienced had become "tattooed in his brain"
told me of his love for music and the collection of tapes he had amassed
over the years. It was through music that he came closest to expressing
what was left of his capacity to feel human. A few years previously he
had started corresponding with a French Canadian woman who was paralysed
and confined to a wheel chair. He had recorded a piece of music he had
heard on the radio and as a Christmas present he had tried to send it
out to her. Because he had not got permission to send out a tape, it was
intercepted and never reached her. For Terry Somerton, this interference
with the things that gave meaning to his life, his music and his few friendships
on the outside, were worse than the physical beatings. Mr. Somerton told
me that he listened to a number of late night FM disc jockeys and that
way he not only maintained a connection with his favourite artists from
the past (some of whom we discovered we shared) but was also able to
enlarge his understanding of contemporary music, and in this way "remain
connected."
For Lance Blanshard, remaining connected had come through his efforts
to become both print and electronically literate. The purchase of his
new computer, even though he had little in the way of software, provided
for him a primary link with the world which had essentially rejected him
for almost the whole of his life.
Pat Pirozzi's approach to keeping in touch had it's own distinctive
mix:
It's mostly by watching television and fixing broken
machinery. I use television as a three purpose tool: education, recreation,
and, if need be, masturbation. I watch educational programs time and time
again and whenever I see something new I tell myself I just learned something
today. I can watch the same program on the Knowledge Network over and
over again and every time there's something new I take in. (Interview
with Pat Pirozzi, February 14, 1995)
There was one other person I interviewed in February, 1995, who had
been in the Prince Albert SHU for as long as Mr. Pirozzi and Mr. Blanshard.
She was not, however, a prisoner but a school teacher. Bea Frances, in
reflecting on her ten years experience, commented on the relationship
between her concept of education and the CSC's enthusiasm for programs
based upon cognitive life skills. Ms. Frances strongly believed that if
education was to bring about changes in peoples lives, whether in prison
or outside, it had to be grounded in a search for human values; she therefore
saw the CSC's cancellation of the university program as a step backwards.
She was also concerned about the decision of the Service to use correctional
officers, rather than teachers and educators, as the primary facilitators
for the cognitive life skills programs. She believed that this was being
done not just to develop staff morale and a sense of professionalism,
but because the Service could maintain much better control over these
programs if it was implemented by its employees as opposed to contract
educators.
The last thing Bea Frances told me was perhaps the most significant
and symbolic. Her approach to education and to teaching the prisoners
in the SHU was firmly based upon the concept that people were always redeemable
and perfectible, a concept she found best reflected in the poetry of Robert
Browning. She agreed with me that this was not a philosophy which was
shared by many of her colleagues in the SHU, and probably not by many
of the prisoners either, but without it her work in the SHU would be impossible.
By the time I was ready to leave Prince Albert SHU the next day, Bea Frances
had made sure that a copy of her favourite Robert Browning poem was in
my hands. These are some of its stanzas:
From thence -- a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks --
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale.
What is he but a brute
Whose flesh has soul to suit,
Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play?
To man, propose this test --
Thy body at its best,
How far can that project thy soul on its lone way?
Yet gifts should prove their use:
I own the Past profuse
Of power each side, perfection every turn:
Eyes, ears took in their dole,
Brain treasured up the whole;
Should not the heart beat once, "How good to live and learn"?
So, take and use Thy work:
Amend what flaw may lurk,
What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim!
My times be in Thy hand!
Perfect the cup as planned!
Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same!
(Rabbi Ben Ezra, Robert Browning , 1864)
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