Lessons of Liberty

A couple of weeks ago, I sat with a group of ten men inside a maximum security prison and talked about what freedom means to them. Every man was in the middle of serving a heavy sentence, some having already done a couple of decades worth of time. Freedom was a concept that resonated deeply, stirring up both hope as well as sorrow, but was a reality that none had physically felt in a long time. Several guys talked about how they felt like they had let freedom down, not recognizing its full value until it was too late. Others had discovered that it meant far more than being physically free, now experiencing great joy and relief in the internal freedom that they had found amidst their incarceration. And yet all agreed in their longing to be released, to be entrusted with another chance at walking into liberty with no bars, locked doors or security guards to hold them back. 

Since sitting in that circle and hearing these men talk so honestly and vulnerably about something that I know I take for granted every day, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what it means to be free. Wars have been waged, lives have been given, stories have been passed down over centuries, and songs continue to be sung about this innate desire we all have - freedom. 

Recently, Phillip and I went to see the movie ‘Harriet’ which portrays the life of Harriet Tubman, a hero in American history who dedicated her life to the freedom of the slaves. She knew the value of freedom because for many years she had lived without it, and she was willing to give her last breath to set her people free. She was a visionary and her vision was liberty. 

“God has shown me the future and my people are free; my people are free!”

- Harriet, the movie

I think it takes great courage to believe in freedom when an aspect of it has been taken away from you. It also takes wisdom to steward it well when you are privileged enough to have it.  But before either courage or wisdom are walked out, we need to have a vision for freedom.

“Until our children learn to deal with what is going on inside of them, they simply cannot learn to manage freedom.”

- Danny Silk, ‘Loving Your Kids On Purpose’

I read this line from Danny Silk’s book a couple of days after returning home from being with the men at SCI Frackville. They immediately came to mind again as I read this over and over. How we manage our external freedom is directly connected to how we steward what is going on internally. Hopefully we’ve been raised in an environment that allows us to learn this early on, but many times that is not our story and decades can pass before it is a concept that we are actually able to live out in health. 

Right now, Phillip and I are preparing to have our first son in February who we’ve named Freedom Alexander, and as motherhood approaches it has caused me to ponder all of this more seriously. I want our son to be raised not just knowing that he is free, but knowing how to steward that freedom. We all have this deep-seated knowing that it is our right to be free so we demand it with all that we have, but when it’s finally given to us how often do we betray this most divine of gifts? If we’re honest, do we now stand holding onto the remnants of an abused relationship with freedom, or is our gait marked with integrity as we extend our freedom to the benefit of the world around us? 

I’ve never not known freedom. From my privileged upbringing being born with white, European skin into a family full of love with parents who believed in me and always championed my dreams, to encountering spiritual freedom at a young age where I came to know a God who loves me and has divinely purposed me for this time in history. Yes I’ve known injustice, pain and betrayal, have had to overcome fear and hurts, anger and lies, but I’ve never not known freedom; I’ve never not had a choice. Even here - in ‘the land of the free and home of the brave’ - I wonder how many people could actually describe their life as being one that is free, for this state of being does not just begin and end with our physical reality but encompasses every part of our beings. As I heard recently in a conversation around prostitution and the sex industry, for many people trapped in that cycle of sexual exploitation, it came about as a choice-less choice. They had no other option. 

If we look at our lives honestly, are we stuck in any places simply because we have no other option? Or have we created environments in our relationships or work places where those around us are faced with no other choice because of an element of freedom that we have stripped away from them? Are we championing freedom and managing it well, or are we operating in control and manipulation and abusing the very thing that was created to release us? 

The last words that Harriet Tubman uttered were, “I go to prepare a place for you.” She gave her everything in order to see her fellow man live in the freedom which she knew they were created for, and I hear in those words a challenge to all of us: are we going to do the same? 

Harriet Tubman, who rescued enslaved people via the Underground Railroad and also led U.S. troops in a raid that freed hundreds during the Civil War.

Finding Freedom in a Max-Security Prison

“See that guy over there?” K.A nodded to a man stood a few feet away from us, “He killed someone I was close to.” He paused as I followed the direction of his gesture with my eyes, “And I killed someone he was close to… We didn’t used to be able to be in the same room together, but now we’ve learnt how to tolerate each other. It’s really crazy that we can even both be here right now.”

I looked at the two men and let the enormity of K.A’s words soak in, our conversation from the previous day suddenly carrying a whole new weight. The afternoon before, K.A had asked me if I’d ever been betrayed. I knew there was something specific on his mind as I shared with him my journey of choosing to forgive the man who had raped me ten years prior, and just what true forgiveness looked like, but had had no inkling to what that might be. Now, as we stood in the prison chapel, I felt the sacredness of vulnerability and caught a glimpse of the hope of reconciliation. 

“I hope that one day we can do more than just tolerate one another,” K.A looked at me with a little smile. 

“I believe you will,” came my simple words of encouragement as I smiled in return. 

Joy chatting with a Shining Light participant from Philadelphia Detention Center

The moment shifted as the room geared up for our first group activity of the day and K.A moved away to take his seat. I was now once again so aware of the power that our presence has to break down walls, restore humanity and release fresh hope. This was day two of a three day Creative Intensive Workshop that I was helping to lead with Shining Light Ministries. It’s the fourth time this year that I’ve entered a state correctional facility with the organization, our sole purpose being to love on the inmates, using the tools of creativity and presence to see perspectives expanded and lives changed in prison and beyond. My role was to lead a group of 10 men in a spoken word workshop, the end goal being to create a collaborative piece together which they would then perform for the rest of the participants at the end of the Intensive. There were three other teams - dance, theater and vocals - all with roughly 10 apiece, making up a full and lively room of men all eager to have their minds set free from their  current surroundings.

Myself and the dance team had been using the song, ‘Run Wild’ by for King & Country as the stimulus for our groups’ creative processes, but neither team saw the other’s work until the final day. It just so happened that the man that K.A had now told me about, Felipé, was on the dance team. These two men, who were once arch enemies, were now both exploring similar  personal journeys of finding freedom - even whilst living behind bars. 

Dance team rehearsal from Waymart SCI

As a spoken word team, we took the concept of freedom that the song highlighted and used it as a prompt to write from. Each man wrote their own response to what freedom looks or feels like, or what their relationship with freedom is currently like, and we weaved them all together into one fluid piece. Below is the section that K.A wrote:

‘Not a lion who forgot how to roar, 

But more so a heart that forgot how to beat. 

From chaos that infiltrated my peace, 

I became a slave to the chaos of the street. 

I am crushed at what I have become, 

An element of all but God’s plan.

All because the thing that I honestly am not, 

Has made me the person to which that I am. 

A prisoner of my own destruction, 

A king to a throne-less kingdom, 

A servant to the undeserved, 

But yet the betrayer of my dearest and beloved Brother Freedom.’

After our group presentation time on the final day of the Intensive, the other teams were invited to give their responses to the pieces that they watched. Felipé raised his hand and went on to express how the spoken word team’s piece had made him see that just because someone had committed murder didn’t mean that’s all that there was to them. It had opened his eyes to see things differently, and I knew that he was talking about K.A. 

I think if we’d been able to spend a few more days with these men, we would have witnessed the full restoration of relationship between K.A and Felipé. As it happened, we just got to glimpse the beginning and perhaps middle of that process, where grace was starting to be extended and understanding allowed to enter in. My conversations with K.A continued in the vein of exploring forgiveness and what true justice looked like right up until the end of the program, and on the last day he said, “You have inspired me to find the good in all people. To forgive - not just others, but myself.” This young man who had one of the worst reputations in the whole prison was being reminded that trusting people is possible, that forgiveness was not just an option but a reality, and he wasn’t an animal but a valuable human being. 

These conversations have left an indelible mark on my heart, not just because they were profound in nature, but because they were evidence of humanity being restored to men who had literally had it repeatedly stripped from them. Sons, brothers, fathers, who had undoubtedly made big mistakes but who were searching for redemption, hungry for love, and desperately longing for the loneliness to end. As humans, we were never meant to live in cages. We were created to be free, living in community - family - with justice looking like the restoration of every violation of love. 

It matters what we do with our freedom - whether we abuse it, using it for our own good, or wield it for the betterment of those around us. It matters where we choose to take our presence, and where we decide to shine our light. If a room is already flooded in daylight, lighting a lamp is of no consequence, but when darkness covers the walls even the smallest of lights has the greatest of impacts. 

Shining Light Participant from Waymart SCI

• For further in formation about Shining Light Ministries and how you can get involved, please head to https://www.shining-light.com

• Images used in this blog are courtesy of Shining Light Ministries and were taken at different correctional facilities in Pennsylvania than the one highlighted here.