From HBO to Auburn: Poet Bruce George Visits with CPEP Students

by Jim Schechter

Cornell Student and Aspiring Lawyer Learns English via CPEP

by Rahul Desai

ast spring, I was presented with the opportunity to get involved with the

Cornell Prison Education Program. My favorite course at Cornell had been Government 3140: Prisons, and I was seeking some exposure to the criminal justice system before I attended law school. Participation seemed only obviousa unique chance to fuse my academic and professional interests.

As a Government major with law school aspirations, I believed I could best apply my skills and knowledge as a teaching assistant for a political science or law course. Much to my chagrin, I learned that CPEP would not be offering any political science classes in the fall semester and the law courses had already met the requisite number of teaching assistants. I contacted CPEP's Executive Director, Jim Schechter, who notified me that Professor Reeve Parker was looking for teaching assistants for his course: English 2700: Reading Fiction. I began to correspond with Professor Parker, and decided that I would be a teaching assistant for his class. As Reeve so eloquently put it, it would be a course in the pleasures and discoveries of reading short stories. My responsibilities would include providing feedback on student essays, holding one-on-one writing workshops, and participating in the weekly classroom discussions.

Despite my enthusiastic acceptance, I felt

he Auburn prison chapel provides a spiritual home for all denominations seeking the

word of God. For at least one day this February spirits were moved not by the call of worship but the empowering message delivered by poet, entrepreneur and spoken word clbre Bruce George, co-creator of HBOs Def Poetry Jam with Russell Simmons and CPEPs featured speaker in its monthly lecture series. George visited Cornell's campus and the prison courtesy of the Center for Ethics in Public Life and the Department of Applied Economics and Managements Business Opportunities in Leadership and Diversity program for undergraduates.

For a slam poet able to spit lengthy,

Bruce George participates in CPEP's speaker series

IN THIS ISSUE: How to become involved with CPEP, Cornell President David J. Skorton visits Auburn Correctional Facility, reflections from a CPEP instructor, and more.

Cornell Prison Education ProgramSpring, 2010 Newsletter

We believe in equitable access to higher education and the transformative power of intellectual development.

Edited by Cyd Hamilton and Julia Woodward

Page 2:Executive Director, Jim Schechter, and Faculty Director, Peter Enns,

offer an overview of CPEP and describe how faculty, graduate

students, and undergraduates can get involved.

Page 5:

CPEP student, Clifton K. Williamson, chronicles Cornell

President David J. Skorton's visit to Auburn.

Page 7:Anthropologist, Jan Zeserson,

reflects on her teaching experiences at Auburn.

Page 8:An excerpt from Writer's Bloc, the

Auburn literary journal.

Continued on page 4

Continued on page 3

Become involved with CPEP! We are currently accepting applications from undergraduate and graduate students to serve as teaching assistants next fall.

We are also accepting graduate student and faculty course proposals for next fall. Graduate students receive a $3,000 stipend for teaching a course.

The application deadline for the fall semester is April 11, 2010. For additional details, see http://cpep.cornell.edu/_volunteer or contact the CPEP Executive Director, Jim Schechter (Jas349@cornell.edu).

CPEP Newsletter, p.2

The Cornell Prison Education Program (CPEP) provides a free college-level curriculum to men incarcerated at Auburn and Cayuga Correctional Facilities in upstate New York. The program began in the mid-1990s, with Professor Emeritus (English) Pete Wetherbee, who travelled to Auburn to offer weekly classes. Over time, Pete recruited Cornell colleagues to teach additional courses and in 1999 he arranged for the Auburn students to receive Cornell credits. Over a decade later, what Pete referred to as Cornell at Auburn has become one of the most prominent prison education programs in the country.

The most recent organizational development occurred in 2008, when Professor (Government) Mary Katzenstein helped facilitate a partnership between CPEP, the Sunshine Lady Foundation, and Cornells Office of Land Grant Affairs. This partnership has significantly expanded the programs course offerings. Furthermore, the 100 Auburn and Cayuga students in the NYS Department of Corrections (DOC) system now earn Cornell credits that also transfer to an Associate of Arts degree accredited by Cayuga Community College (CCC) in Auburn, NY. The program expects to see its first graduates in 2011.

Both Cornell and the Sunshine Lady Foundation announced continued support for CPEP through 2013. Such investment honors the efforts of so many to extend the benefits of their education off-campus. Each year, more than 100 members of the Cornell community from PhD candidates to undergraduates to tenured faculty support the nearly 25 courses CPEP offers. Their public efforts make manifest the unseen, but critical assistance, provided by the staff in Cornells University Business Service Center, the Office of Continuing Education and Summer Sessions, and the Office of Land Grant Affairs. Equally important are the efforts of colleagues in the Office of the Registrar and Academic Affairs at CCC who knit our classes into a curriculum satisfying SUNY community college requirements and NYS DOC staff officers and administrators, alike who make the entire project possible. We thank all involved for making this program possible.

Jim Schechter (Executive Director) and Peter Enns (Faculty Director)

CPEP Spring 2010 Courses:

CPEP is currently offering the following courses, taught by Cornell faculty and graduate students, at Auburn Correctional Facility or Cayuga Correctional Facility.

Macroeconomics (Ben Ost)

Music Theory (Stuart Duncan)

Basic Writing (Paul Sawyer and Pete Wetherbee)

Genetics (Elliot Heffner, Jesse Poland, and Nathaniel

Pumplin)

Introduction to Sociology (Cate Taylor)

Introduction to Anthropology (Catherine Koehler)

Chemistry (Veronica Morales and Katie Schwartz)

Introduction to Poetry (Lyrae Van Clief-Stefanon)

Basic Math (Daniel Romero)

Reading Fiction (Helena Viramontes)

Criminal Law (Anna Friedburg and Lauren Mitchell)

The Cornell Prison Education Program

Bruce George Visit, continued from page 1

multi-layered verse on demand, George gave the most succinct personal sketch possible before asking, What are your goals?, and only then attempted to answer how CPEP students with creative impulses might realize their professional ambitions. George speaks from experience, having spent the last decade launching projects, from bringing slam poetry to national attention through his association with Russell Simmons and HBO to his latest project, publishing The Bandana Republic: A Literary Anthology of the Writing of Gang Members and Their Affiliates (Soft Skull Press 2008). Bronx-born and bred, George conceded he easily could have been the student in the prison pew rather than distinguished guest speaker fielding questions.

Asked how he had made it, George dissolved the barrier between lecturer and audience, insider and outsider. How have I made it? I havent made it until this place doesnt exist, George said. Its not a matter of who I am. But whose I am. In other words, spirit and practice, person and community, are indivisible for an artist like George. Entrepreneurial drive, he further suggested, is a vehicle in service of a higher mission realizing ones potential while uplifting ones people. Invited to share secrets to his transformation from stick-up man and street poet to legitimate businessman and editor, George wanted all present to know that regardless of their temporary confinement success on their terms remains possible.

Youve got to know youre worth it and you dont stop until you get what you want Youve got get rid of that Im gonna get me a job mentality. A job? You need to get a career. And from Georges vantage as a bard of the street, a market exists for CPEPs literary-minded students to begin building a career, even prior to release. Noting that street and prison literature had become hot commodities, George exhorted all to start writing, keep writing, and to begin submitting to every possible outlet. He claimed that, when coupled with the wealthy communities concerns as to how to keep crime at bay, the economic downturn has paradoxically translated into a favorable publishing climate for those writing from below. Think about it, George suggested. Your prison record is an asset. It may be the best thing that ever happened to you. It may have stopped you from getting killed And

people want to know about it.Proving his commitment to budding

writers, George promised that all CPEP students who submit articles directly to his home address will see them published in his next anthology, a compendium of survival techniques for urban life from home remedies to ghetto recipes to life behind bars. When he enunciated his p.o. box address for the third time, CPEP students knew this was one guest lecturer who truly wanted to bring them home. In questions, George found the answers. Were together, 100%, you and me, right?

To learn more about Bruce George visit his website at: http://www.brucegeorgemedia.com/main.htm

CPEP Newsletter, p.3

CPEP Speaker Series

An important aspect of any college experience is the exchange of ideas outside of the classroom. With this in mind, CPEP has established a monthly lecture series at Auburn.

History Profressor, Jefferson Cowie, was one of the fall speakers. His experience was recently featured in the Chronicle of Higher Education (http://cpep.cornell.edu/_cpeppress).

Upcoming speakers include:Professor Matthew Brashears

Department of Sociology, Cornell University

Professor David PizarroDepartment of Psychology, Cornell University

W.E.B. Du Bois Professor of Literature and Stephen H. Weiss Presidential Fellow Kenneth

McClaneDepartment of English, Cornell University

H.J. Louis Professor of Management and Professor of Economics Robert Frank

Johnson Graduate School of Management, Cornell University

ASPIRING LAWER, continued from page 1

some initial trepidation about my ability to positively contribute to the class. After all, I had only taken one English class at Cornell, and I was certainly nowhere near an expert on short fiction. Would I be able to give the students productive feedback on their essays? Would I be able to perform close readings of difficult texts? Opting not to assume any undue pressure, I decided I would treat my involvement as a collaborative learning experience. I would contribute whatever insights I had to the class, while learning about literature from and alongside the inmate students-- still, I never could have anticipated learning as much from the students as I did.

Ask any individual who has taught or been a TA for a course via the Cornell Prison Education Program, and theyll tell you the same thing: the students are incredibly talented. On our car rides back from the facility, Professor Parker would mention how the students had picked up on elements of a story he hadnt noticed, even after multiple reads. Though many of the students in our class lacked a formal education, most wrote Cornell-caliber essays. I was most impressed by the collegiality of the classroom environment. At Cornell, Ive frequently witnessed students interrupt each other and disrespect their peers opinions. Such was never the case in our classroom, as the students listened to and valued each others (often conflicting) perspectives.

The most gratifying aspect of my experience as a teaching assistant was holding one-on-one writing workshops with the students. The other TAs and I would sit with individual students to refine their writing skills and discuss their interpretations of the short stories we read. What struck me most was how evidently each students personal experiences and perspectives were reflected in their essays. I noticed this in our first series of writing workshops, after the students had submitted their essays on Jorge Luis Borges short story The Intruder.

The Intruder chronicles the relationship of two seemingly inseparable brothers and their reaction when a woman threatens that bond. Though the students were responding to the same short story, they framed their interpretations in very disparate ways. Angel examined The Intruder from the lens of an oldest child; Albert, a Zen Buddhist, highlighted the storys spiritual elements; Gerald, the publisher of a prison newsletter,

emphasized the role of the narrator and wrote about writings therapeutic qualities. Each writing workshop gave me an additional vantage point to understand the short stories we read. The facets of the story the students chose to examine and the manner in which they interpreted them provided me with humanizing insights into the students. I found that, though I was a college student with a wholly distinct set of life experiences, I could relate to many of the inmates. As the oldest child in my family, I understood the pressures Angel felt; having studied Buddhist philosophy, I was able to frame The Intruder through Als perspective; like Gerald, I write as a form of therapy. The essays were not merely astute, well-crafted responses to the short stories we read, but a mechanism to convey their backgrounds and life experiences. Interacting with the students in the writing workshops helped me view them less as prisoners and instead as simply people.

Despite 12 weeks of working with and alongside 18 exceptional students, three intelligent teaching assistants, and a reputable scholar, I still am nowhere near an expert on literature. My experiences at the prison taught me not necessarily how to best read literature or understand a text; instead, my most valuable insight regarded the impact fiction can have on peopledifferent characters, plotlines, and dialogues resonate with different people, inducing a wide array of emotional responses. Witnessing these responses from the inmate student population has given me a unique exposure to literature that few people ever have.

Id like to thank Professor Reeve Parker and Jim Schechter for incorporating me and the other teaching assistants into what was a fantastic class and an invaluable learning experience.

Rahul Desai is a Senior Government major. He has been a TA for two courses at Auburn, Reading Fiction and Introduction to Criminal Procedure. Next fall he will be attending law school at Colombia University.

CPEP Newsletter, p.4

Ethnography: Ritualby Clifton K. Williamson

Preface

Prison, as an institution of human confinement, nurtures its own unique and peculiar culture. Specifically, the social interaction among its human population tends to the abusive and anti-social. However, deviation from this cultural norm does exist and is observed best during the rare ceremonious events where important and novel identities from society witness and affirm the humanity of incarcerated people.

Since the Fall of 2008, Cornell University has enabled willing and incarcerated people to earn a Liberal Arts and Humanities associates degree. Many men take this gift of education serious, committing themselves fully to this opportunity. Yet, among all of the excitement and expectation for Cornells Prison Education Program (CPEP), incarcerated students remain, largely, opinionless and passive participant-recipients. It is rare that our voices of appreciation are heard, and rarer still, to set eyes on our individual faces.

On October 29, 2009, 40-50 incarcerated students stood waiting to speak with Cornell Universitys president. This Ethnography is focused on the impact that this ceremony of external recognition (the integration of CPEP students into the larger Cornell academic community) has upon the incarcerated student.

Within the three yellow chalk-lines that created a box against the wall of cell-block A, students waited to be called into the chapel over the P.A. system. People stood in clusters with close associates, greeting and socializing. Occasionally, a member would break away from one cluster to briefly associate or join another. Beyond the familiar faces, there are no reliable and distinguishing features that would allow the unfamiliar person to identify CPEP-students within the crowd of 75+ people.

When the P.A. systems microphone was tapped to gain the busy crowds attention, only a few people stopped to listen. A muffled voice spoke, Cornell call-out, report to the chapel. Slowly, portions of the crowd tapered off in the direction of the chapel, and with it the murmuring chatter of multiple conversations. At the door prison guards made students line-up in two rows. Two at a

Cornell University President, David J. Skorton, spoke at the Auburn Prison as part of last fall's lecture series.

time we were let into the chapel. Inside, prison guards littered the back walls, pointing us in the direction of a guard who filled us into the center section of pews. The first three rows of pews were reserved for Cornell students and faculty. All the pews on the right side of the stage were reserved for the president and his assistant staff, and other persons responsible for coordinating CPEP here in Auburn prison.

Under the influence of the new setting the murmur of conversations reduced to whispers. As students scanned the dimly lit space, I observed their eyes pause to scrutinize and interpret civilians in the pews. Walking about us were prison administrators, and professors and students that taught previous and active CPEP courses. Professors and students who recognized some students waved and greeted them. One man in particular, wearing a dark suit with a white shirt and tie, was making rounds and shaking the hands of every CPEP-student. From the other side of the dimly lit and tightly packed chapel I couldnt make out the interactive details that took place between this man and the students he shook hands with. As he made his way around, I noticed that several

CPEP Newsletter, p.5

Continued on page 6

other students were also following his approach. Some students straightened their posture and assumed an approachable demeanor. Other students remained uninterested in what could be seen as an extremely elaborate and empty formality being carried out by this man. As it turned out, the man in the dark suit was the president of Cornell University himself.

Hello, Im David Skorton [paraphrasing] he said to each student as he shook their hand. As he made his rounds among the back pews I noticed too for the first time that not just incarcerated students, but Cornell people and prison administrators, too, watched his every action.

President Skorton stood just off of the stage in front of the podium where the microphone was set up for his talk and asked, Can you gentlemen hear me? The question caused students to look upon each other, some nodding their heads, others looking befuddled. A moment later, in virtual unison, students in front, middle, and back confirmed the consensus that everyone could hear him. President Skortons question seemed to prompt the instant solidification of the student bodys collective consciousness, which just moments before was frayed among the many individuals. The incarcerated person is used to the public administering of orders and information directed at the whole while simultaneously intended for each individual.

President Skorton, made short of his formal accomplishments, instead he jumped right into a candid sharing of his humble beginnings; immigrant parents, his childhood memories as a shoe salesman, and his unfulfilled dreams to be a professional musician. Students listened with increased intensity as the president testified to the mutual mortality and kinship as one who, too, endured some of lifes most difficult challenges.

After sharing his personal experiences and history, then discussing the various domestic and global educational initiatives that Cornell sponsors, President Skorton moved on to fulfill his purpose for coming to speak to us. I want you to know that as participants of CPEP, each of you are Cornellians, members of our academic community, said president Skorton, with unquestionable candor. He paused briefly, then extended his hand out in front of him towards the audience before continuing to talk about the values and transformative power of education.

When president Skorton opened the session for questions following his talk, the student body seemed to collectively reflect before the first student sought to express himself. In par with President Skortons sharing of a personal story, several students shared their personal testimonies about how education inspired real change in their lives. One man, in particular, was noticeably experiencing an emotional response to being able to express his experience to someone who truly cared about his well-being, and recognized his value as a human being. This emotion apparently resonated with other students, as each students question or comment affirmed the unity of their body consciousness and the embrace of their status as legitimate members of the Cornell academic community. Various exchanges between students and Skorton involved the use of terms such as cohort and colleague which connotes unity of interest and purpose. It was also clear that Auburns community of incarcerated students were recognizing each other as a valid unit. When the session was over, unlike when it began, the student body gave their president a standing ovation that was full of vigor, emotion, and pride.

As the students were herded out of the chapel area by prison guards, their body language expressed an undeniable freshness. Conversation was excited, and some students eyes seemed to be occupied observing something beyond their present environment. The majority of us left smiling inside and some outside as well. Beyond the chapel, back into the prison yard, men moved like a single wave embracing and bestowing good wishes to close friends and newly acquainted Cornellians.

Clifton Williamson is a CPEP Student at Auburn. He wrote "Ethnography: Ritual'' for an assignment in Introduction to Cultural Anthropology in the fall semester.

CPEP Newsletter, p.6

CPEP Newsletter, p.7

A Place of Discoveryby Jan Zeserson

On the last day of an anthropology course at Auburn Correctional Facility, we asked our students to sign notes of appreciation to publishers who had given us discounts, and to a an educator at Cornell's Johnson Museum who had loaned us Japanese artifacts. I had expected 17 simple statements of Thank you very much.

Instead they wrote:We are forgotten people. Your contribution

to our education is pricelessWe have little to inspire us in our daily

existence. Your generosity gave us an opportunity to learn about a different culture. With sincere appreciation...

I am forever grateful for the opportunity to study. Thank you for your generous spirit...

What sustains my interest in teaching as a volunteer in Cornells prison program is not simply that these students are appreciative and show it by studying diligently. They are adults with vast and varied experience ethnically diverse; Muslims, Christians, Buddhists; straight and gay. Many of these men have lived with poverty and violence all their lives, and because they have had cause to reflect seriously on their life, they are skilled at bringing past experience to bear on the academic topics we explore. They challenge me to rediscover texts and topics from fresh perspectives.

The men who become CPEP students have succesfully navigated a prison system that at times can be brutal. By the time they enroll in our cultural anthropology classes, they have already developed the observational and analytical skills of a good ethnographer because they have had to study their surroundings well in order to flourish.

These skills were particularly evident when they read about early twentieth century anthropologists, for example, Bronsilaw Malinowskis field studies in colonized Melanesian islands. Their survival instincts colored their analysis of the readings: Are ethnographic field researchers sometimes spies for their governments? How could they control how their reports would be used by those who overpowered the native population in the first place? And do ethnographic fieldworkers really think theyre getting a true picture when their mere presence must certainly change the behavior of the people theyre studying? These questions, of course, sometimes come up in classes of traditional, on-campus undergrads, but in

my experience, generally without the sense of immediacy and spontaneity I have found in Auburn prison classrooms where students identify readily with the marginalized status of displaced peoples. Their questions and arguments revitalize my own critical skills by forcing my mind from its habitual perspectives.

I've learned that the time I expect to devote to lecture inevitably gives way to group discussion as students arrive at the salient points of the topic by means of their own questions. I have only to pose starting points in most cases. Whether their salient points eventually match my prepared content came to matter less than the process of grappling with ideas from the combined experiences of these men who have dealt intimately with challenging social forces. For example, in preparing a lecture about the Japanese family system, I planned to get across four main points, leading up to the role played by adopted husbands, a marriage pattern where a man takes his wifes surname in order to perpetuate the family system based historically on patrilineal descent. I started with a kinship diagram on the board showing a three-generation extended household. I hadnt even put the chalk down before I heard, I see a problem here -- what if you dont have sons? Another student: Im guessing theres not much freedom in being a first-born son. There were at least five hands in the air (not at all uncommon in Auburn classes): Is it high status to marry first-born sons? Is child adoption popular, too? I can count on Auburn students to meet me more than half-way in creating an atmosphere of discovery.

Through these men, I get glimpses of the profound challenges of incarceration. Ive come to appreciate the strong will power it takes to live constructively in prison. The men bring this strength into the classroom, and whether their motivation to study is to reenter the free world successfully or to free their minds and hearts in an otherwise shackled daily life, the intensity of their circumstances makes our classroom a place of discovery for me, too.

Jan Zeserson is a Visiting Scholar in the East Asia Program at Cornell University. She has taught two Anthropology courses at Auburn.

Writer's Bloc is a literary journal showcasing the writing of CPEP students in the Auburn Prison. The journal was started by two undergraduate teaching assistants, Rahul Desai and Julia Woodward. Below is a poem by CPEP Student, Eric Partak, to be published in the literary journal. To see the other student writing that will appear in the journal, please see http://cpep.cornell.edu/_journal.

Existence, by Eric Partak

Distant shores that harbor shimmering iridescent tides.Reflections of the moons illuminating glow pull the tides

Like strings of a puppet.The heavens are richly filled with millions of twinkling stars

Whose wishes carry infinite secrets of ages.The tranquil nights breeze blows the sweet smell

of nectar mixed with salt water.Sounds of foreign insects and strange creatures riddle the air

And conduct a symphony of mystery that is irresistibly melodious.The sand beneath my feet feels soft and dry as it squeezes through

the cracks between my toes.Time matters not in this sublime moment of existence.

The past becomes the present intertwined extravagantly with the future.Stolen serenity that Mans money or materialism is

incapable of capturing.Natures tongue speaks truth of undeniable accuracy and wisdom.

Contentedness lies in mortal silence.Words are nothing more than relentless selfishness,

Incapable of conveying lifes irrefutable beauty which lies secludedIn distant corners buried by remote preservation.

Cornell Prison Education Program101 McGraw HallKnight Writing Center, Cornell UniversityIthaca, NY 14853cpep.cornell.edu

CPEP Newsletter, p.8Executive Director: Jim Schechter (jas349@cornell.edu) Faculty Director: Peter Enns (pe52@cornell.edu)