 And I got my YouTube connected. Hello YouTube friends, sorry about that delay. All right, and closed captioning is available tonight. Also, if you need it in a different language, that's so exciting. We just discovered that just before this event. So if you click on the CC button, the little Chevron arrow, you can choose a language if you prefer a different language. It's exciting. So welcome to tonight. We are in our One City One Book. We're getting there everyone. I'm excited. And we are into our December events. I'm Anissa. If you don't know what you might know, it's nice to meet you. I'm a librarian at the library at San Francisco Public. I usually have a document when I do a virtual. So I just put it in the chat and that has library news and then links to our presenters and links as they talk, resources will come up. And so I'll add those. It's like a live running doc. So I'm just gonna do some library news and then I'll turn it over to our panel tonight, which is the Prison Arts Project, a William James Association Project. And we've had a couple arts as transformation connected to One City One Book. And you can find all of these on our YouTube channel, including Rodessa Jones, who was like the queen of theatrics and she is the woman behind the Medea Project. And that goes into women's prison and brings art and theater as a transformation practice. So this is part of One City One Book. And if you haven't picked up, this is Ear Hustle. This is the book that we are all reading together. Together we read as the tagline. And it is based on the podcast, also of the same name, Unflinching Stories of Everyday Prison Life. So the amazing thing with this campaign is we get to bring all sorts of other folks in on the topic of this book. And San Francisco Public Library is really proud of our jail and reentry services department who serves jails in San Francisco, bringing books to folks inside. And we also answer reference by mail, the most referenced by mail, this side of the Mississippi, from prisons this side of the Mississippi. So a lot of reference, a lot of getting folks books. And then our main library has a lot of reentry resources that we would love to provide. We'd like to acknowledge that we occupy the unceded and ancestral homeland of the Raum Mutu Sholoni peoples who are the original inhabitants of the San Francisco peninsula. We recognize that we benefit from living and working on their traditional homeland. As uninvited guests, we affirm their sovereign rights as first people and wish to pay our respects to the elders and ancestors of the Raum Mutush community. And on that note, I encourage you to find out which land you are on occupying at the moment. There's a great map to do that. And I'm gonna stick it in a chat right now. It's called native land. It's very good, very interactive. And it also shows what treaties were in place, what treaties have been broken, what languages are spoken. Also the Sigourte Land Trust of Oakland, women-led based organization working in land rights. Left, for the rest of December coming up, we still have some virtual events for the ground one city one book. Our favorite LGBTQ prisoner resource, ABL Comics, they have started their own podcast called Tellaway 411. Tomorrow night, same time, same place, come talk to us and some of their participants. On Wednesday, the anti-terror police project will be coming to talk about how we keep communities safe ourselves. Two events in person this weekend, please come on down to the main library. It's been so nice. I love if it's raining, it's the perfect time to be there. But also it's just lovely to be in the Civic Center on the weekend, particularly Saturday and even more so on Sunday because we have the farmers market. But on this Sunday, December 11th, we'll be hosting the amazing, powerful Sarah Cruzon who wrote a book called I Cried to Dream Again. Sarah spent two plus decades inside and came out and wrote an amazing book. She's a powerhouse and empowering and she's featured in Ear Hustle episode 13 called Dirty Water. The book is mind blowing, get it now. And please come to the event, show some support, come on down. And then the William James Association will be back with our brothers in Penn happening December 12th. And then we final it out with our own library's own Dr. Jeannie Austin who has written a book about serving prisons in the library setting. But they will be joined with a few other folks talking about inspiration, knowledge and curiosity well incarcerated. All right, enough talking from me. I am so happy tonight to have the William James Association Prison Arts Project with us today and they are gonna tell us about the important work, share their art and talk about how bringing arts education into incarcerated individuals is important and how it can help and transform. And the PAP is a major program of the William James Association offering classes at San Quentin taught by professional artists in hands-on visual performing and literary art workshops. And with that, I'm gonna turn it over to Henry Frank who is a returning resident, a teaching artist. He is the communications person for the William James. So I know he does a lot of different hats. So Henry, I'm gonna stop sharing and I'm gonna turn it over to you. All right, thank you, Anisa. I'm just gonna have a fan. Okay. First of all, I'm kind of sitting in for Carol Newborn. She was supposed to be the moderator but some events happened where she cannot make it tonight. And I know she was excited to be here and wish she could be here, but she has a life as well and she needs to handle some of that stuff that's going on there. So I'm honored that she asked me to help her and support her by moderating this panel tonight. A special thank you goes out to the San Francisco Public Library, the One City One Book for inviting us to San Quentin Prison Arts Project. Also to Ear Hustle for storytelling that reaches so many and now featuring a San Francisco Prison Arts Project artist's original piece and brief interview for each episode. And you can subscribe to lockdown newsletter to get all these with the new episode. The San Quentin Prison Arts Project is like Anisa said, under the William James Association. And so a special thanks go out to William James Association and the executive director, Lori Brooks and then the site coordinator for San Quentin which is Carol Newborg for making all this happen and make sure that it runs smoothly. And then has been bringing arts into California prison since 1977 and the one who led the way was Eloise Smith and her vision was based simply on the value of providing all individuals with the most meaningful art experience possible. In her words, that mysterious life enhancing process we call the arts around in which patient application and vivid imagination so often produces magic. So it is a continued belief through the William James Association that access to the arts help people understand themselves, grow and change, bringing transformed people back to the communities and families that need them. So thank you for that. I'm gonna start at the slide show here. Oops, sorry about this. So this is the prison arts project from inside to outside. The photos are provided by Peter Mertz. The artwork you'll see is Henry Frank, Isaiah Daniels, Bun, Jimmy Meadow, Joe Salazar and many others that participate within the program. The Art Studio, the Arts and Corrections Art Studio which hosts the prison arts project was created in 1980 and you can go and see the full spectrum of Peter Mertz's photo documentation at PeterMertz.com. There are literally thousands of photos and not just of San Quentin but California prisons up and down the state and all the different programs that are offered and he really captures the beauty and the essence of the energy that happens in those classrooms. This is inside the studio there in San Quentin from when I remember I'm sorry, Saturday mornings and then there was Friday mornings and Friday evening I mean just all kinds of programs going on and you're gonna see a lot of the visual arts. However, there's creative writing and there's origami and there's music, band, book binding, just a plethora of workshops that are provided there where William Tham looked for these artists and then the artists come to us and we do our best to place them into the prisons to offer their skill sets and to offer what they have to the men and women inside. And then we also branched out into juvenile halls and jails and most recently into veterans returning and providing art for them as well. There is a lot of individual experience and learning about one self which is called introspection just through the practice of doing your art whatever genre it may be and to have that patience and to sit there with yourself and figure out what needs to come out. And as you see, there's all kinds of different races, all kinds of, and personally as a returning citizen of different politics, different religious beliefs, different just ideologies and after time of sitting in there with the same people doing the same thing as in painting all that stuff kind of falls to the side and we just become artists and we just become musicians and we just become actors inside there and we support one another. So sharing creative experience in a community of others on similar paths strengthens us, gives us those social skills that we might be lacking. And like I said, the prison segregation by race and ethnicity breaks down in the studio. And this is Roy, I used to sit in a block printing class with an art class with him and he's recently, well, recently probably about a year now he's been released and he's doing great with his granddaughter and repairing relationships and all that stuff and sending art home, helped many of the people inside to reconnect with their families and their communities. And then I know when I was there they always offered opportunities to donate some of your art to local nonprofits for auction and stuff like that. A lot of people come in with this innate skills and then the rest are taught and students, the people that are already in there often help each other and just from what they've learned from what they know and they take the time and they have the patience to teach the next person to not so much duplicate or copy what they're doing but give them a foundation so they can grow from it and create their own artistic identity. So people are finding unknown skills and talents working and from what's inside and then just with anything it's practice, practice, practice so they just keep building on that skill set and improving them which helps build self-confidence with self-knowledge and also self-respect and a sense of identity and then also giving back and look at all these beautiful smiles. It's an oasis in there, you know? It's like in the desert and you find that one little spot of water so you can get your hydration back and this is the hydration for the soul in the middle of that prison desert. So and the people that come in, I mean, they enjoy what they do from everything that I've spoke with and seen myself. They wanna be there and they wanna give what they can and I say their artistic process gave them happiness or a sense of just comfort and maybe peace and then they just wanna pass that along to the next person and it lands. And then from my experience and keep track of people that got out, they tend to try to do the same thing. It may not be back inside of the wall but it's in their communities, it's in their family, it's in their group of friends. And so I mean, it just keeps giving back. It's a ripple effect and it goes out. And this piece is like a, I think a scale replica of a San Quentin prison and it sits in the William James office right now. So hopefully it'll be displayed, you know, publicly but you get to see it in the picture right now. And so as you see through this, you know, a lot of people are discovering themselves and really acknowledging, you know, their current environment and their current situations and just putting it into this piece of art or putting into their music or putting into their acting because sometimes you can't find the worst to do that or might be a little shy to say those words on the way you might be perceived. And so you just put it into that canvas. And so self-knowledge, artists often allow us to grasp what we cannot yet understand. And so that's what I'm saying. And sometimes you don't know what you're feeling but your body knows and then it releases it through that paintbrush or it releases it through that guitar or it releases it, you know through making the costumes that they make for their performances and stuff like that. Now also with cultural identity and self-knowledge in community, Jimmy Nettles, Sunny Vasquez, Sam Marquez, Joe Salazar and Lamavis Kamadiwala, sorry for buttering the name but I can relate. I know when I was in there, I really connected with my culture, I'm in Indigenous, Kirok and Pomo and just really put it into my artwork with basket designs and stuff. And just like the men here really, you know connected with their culture and then put it on these canvases and paper. Some real intricate detail. So understanding oneself often means understanding our culture and community. Art is a strong way to learn about and contribute to and share our culture not just with ourselves but with and not just with our community but other communities. Artistic expression and whatever form, you know passes through those walls and passes through those fences and passes through those boundaries and all these other things that we construct in our minds because the image of powerful to evoke emotion. We have three panelists with us today. I am one of them, but I'm gonna go ask, but just real quickly introduce Bun and Isaiah Daniels and then myself, Henry, I'm gonna start off with Bun and I'm gonna put up his slides here in a second. The Bun is formerly incarcerated for 23 years and has been an artist, was chosen as the Yuri Kuchiyama fellow, then community advocate for the immigration rights at Asian Law Caucus and now a reentry coordinator with Asian Prisoner Support Committee. Bun was born during the Cambodian genocide where more than half of his family was murdered including his father. Raised in the refugee camps, Bun immigrated to the US at the age of six. At the age of 18, Bun was a father of two sons and was sentenced to 49 years in prison. Bun is mostly based on his traumas and culture. Bun is proud father of a one-year-old son and grandfather to three grandsons. Bun is now in danger of deportation. And I'll hand it over to you and bring up your slides. Thank you, Henry. Good evening, everybody. My name is Bun. Thank you, Henry, for that introduction. Yeah, today I'm gonna talk about my journey in art. As a young person, I've always liked to draw. My imagination was just open. But I didn't know that I lived with trauma because of what I've been through, what my family went through and how I lived my life. So when I was younger, I didn't know how to express it. In our culture, mental health was crazy. So being a boy, becoming a man, you can't speak about you having mental stress. You're supposed to be mentally strong. And as for me, being the oldest son, the only son, I had to be stronger. So all my traumas were just kept in my mind. And I didn't know that it was coming out violently. And I caused a lot of trauma to other people because I was hurt. So my first slide is a drawing I did when I was incarcerated. I spent five years in solitary confinement and my grandpa passed away. And I didn't know how to honor him. I didn't know how to cry. I didn't know how to feel. I was numb because being in solitary confinement, it weighs heavily mentally on you. And when I got the moves, all I could remember was his teachings. My grandpa was a Buddhist and was very devoted. So this drawing is a drawing about Buddha's life. And I'm always captured to the starvation of Buddha for enlightenment because that's how I see myself, trying to enlighten myself, to understand myself. This was the only way I could pay homage to my grandpa for all the education, all the teaching, all the Buddhist teaching he ever taught me on how to live a life of kindness. And this is where the point after 10 years of incarceration, I was changing my life. I was growing as a person mentally. I was growing emotionally. I was growing, but I didn't know how. So I had to step back and remember some of the teaching my grandpa taught me. Next slide. Next slide, Henry. This slide and the script are in Cambodian. It says the heart will never forget. And there's a lot going on here. Again, I have to starving Buddha there because like the starving Buddha, I was starving to find myself. I was starving to understand my trauma. I was starving to understand my demons. Nobody really knew since I came to this country as a young man that I only slept three hours a night because of nightmares that I had. And compound on that the violence that I encountered on the streets, my friends dying, me almost dying. And I just did not know how to talk to another person about it. I did not express my feelings about it. I didn't know how to ask for help knowing that I was mentally traumatized, but I put into my art. When my feeling and emotion came out and my trauma came out in my mind, I couldn't put into words. I knew I could put into pictures. So my collages is my own feeling of what's going on in my heart, in my soul, and also in my mind. And this is one of my saving graces while I was transforming, while I was learning about myself, and also it helped me from the stress of the trauma that I had because once I got it out on paper, it was just like me speaking these words, speaking my emotions, sharing it with somebody, but I shared it on a piece of paper with myself so I could see what I'm feeling. After about 15 years incarcerated, I was given opportunity to be transferred to San Quentin. Next slide. And I was introduced to the art project. Next slide. When I went there, I didn't like any other institution didn't have a program like this, either paper or pencil. So like the picture Henry was showing you earlier, because I knew everybody that was in those pictures. I went in. I did not know how to paint. I did not know how to even mix colors. When I went in, Carol welcomed me, allowed me to come to class. Like Henry said, we had Saturday class, Tuesday class. We had different teachers like Amy Ho was one of my teachers. Carol, Anthony June, the origami you guys saw. These were the things that never even crossed my path as art or I even tried. When I went there, everybody, I let everybody, I know how to draw a little bit, but I don't want to paint. And together as a class as artists, folks came together like, here, let me show you how to do a palette. Let me show you how to mix these colors. I was always self-conscious how people saw my art. And then one of the fellows told me, it's not about what people see, it's about what you create. And I took that to heart. And this painting I did in Carol's class is called, I forgot what it's called, I named it, but this is because I was looking to my own culture about colonization. And this is the Hawaiian people having their civilization washed over by colonization of the islands. And I was studying that in my class, and I came to when I felt it. And Carol allowed me to expand on my work. Next slide. And this one was when I came home. And I was asked to do a painting and how I felt when I came home. And I looked at myself and I was like, I'm like this little baited fish in a dark river swimming around looking for things I could remember. Looking for a future, it's just me in there looking. And I was able to express this, you know, I'm full. My colors are full. That's how I'm feeling like I'm a new person. You know, I'm shining because I made it home. But I'm in darkness still trying to look for my path in life. So my whole experience with art was, without art for me, would have been a life of a lot of trauma pent up. And with trauma pent up, it comes out as violence. So that's all I knew in my life. But art helped me to understand myself. And William James allowed me to put color into my art so I could see things like colors of feeling to me. I think a lot of Carol and them all tell me your palettes are so bright. And I said, that's how I feel. Like that's the colors I feel deep inside and coming out. And then, but the world out here is so, it's so strange to me that it's darkness because I don't know anything. And then also my art kept me in relationship with my two sons. They were growing. And I didn't know how to speak to them. So I spoke with art. I drew art for them. And they would ask me, what does this mean that? And I would tell them, this is how I'm feeling. And through the 23 years of my life, I was able to connect with my sons through art, showing them how I feel, what art meant. And then also showing them culture, because I wasn't there to help them understand our culture. So through art, I drew cultural art from, so they can understand where they came from, understand where their family came from. So art is very important in my life. And I believe also art have saved my life mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, because without it, I wasn't able to get all this trauma that I had inside me. I would never able to mourn my losses. Even during COVID, I had a lot of friends that lost their life in San Quentin. And art allowed me to mourn them. While I was sick also. So I don't know how much time I wasted. I'm sorry. But at the end of the day, without art, I don't think my life could have been so colorful. I don't think my soul could have been so bold and big to shout out what I'm feeling as man. And without William James, I don't think I would ever have the opportunity to meet other artists and express our ideas, express our creativity. And never once did anybody ever told me, what are you drawing? Art sucks. It was always, wow, this is so new. And then meeting all the other artists in class. And these are folks that maybe I would never become friends. All the photos that you saw and we showed at first, those are all my friends in art. And I got to know them. I got to know their life. I got to know their passion. And that bond alone is priceless to me. And when I see the artwork that Henry showed earlier, I remember each and every person starting it with a sketch and building it to a beautiful picture in the canvas. So thank you. And I appreciate y'all listening to my story. And thank you. Thank you, Bun. Wow. Beautifully said. And thank you for sharing your artwork. And I see your journey. And next up is Isaiah Daniel. A KDAC too. Was born into a life of alcoholism, violence and abuse. He didn't know of a way to ease his pains is hurt and shame. He just held his breath, which meant he also held his hate and it showed. Drinking drugs and maladaptive behavior became a way of life for Isaiah. He needed some place to rest a place to find himself. He needed a place so he could breathe and he found that place in prison. Having a program like the prison arts project provided him with a way of facing his trauma through expressing himself through art. These pieces are professed resulting in his healing. Real quick, did you want yours on a loop or did you want me to do it by the mouse? Don't forget to unmute Isaiah. Thank you for sharing that with us. Thank you for the announcement, please. Okay. First of all, while Henry is looking there, I just want to say that was a man that was powerful. Thank you for sharing that with us. So my name is Isaiah Daniels. And it's an honor to be here first of all. I am. I've also sit on the executive. I'm the executive director of the advisory committee for uncapped a subsidiary of your hustle. As it was said that I'm also a KDAC to substance abuse counselor on which all these things came after I got out of prison. I'm also a formerly incarcerated. I did 21 inside 25, 26 years total. I went into a life sentence. I went in violent. I went in not understanding who I was. And it took programs like. Arson correction, William James Foundation. It took those programs to help me to sort myself out. You can click this next picture, please. And the thing I'm going to take you back and forth for a minute. So I also teach at Laney college twice a year, usually in the spring and in the fall quarters. And on the first two pictures, 10, can you go back for me on the first pictures? Sorry about that. It was a, this was a teaching lesson. And what happened was. I went through a lot of abuse as a child. And, and I mean, I was beaten to the point where I left home at home. I was always told just like bun said, you know, that men don't cry. And so I was denied the opportunity of holding, of expressing my emotions. And so as I stated earlier, what I decided to do was take a deep breath and just hold my breath. Before every beating, I would hold my breath. Before every abuse, I would hold my breath. Before every scolding, hold my breath. And until I started turning to drugs and alcohol and every relationship I've ever been into, I destroyed every family I joined. I destroyed every job I had. I lost every friend I had. I abused or lost because I was what I was treated how I was treated. You know, these here went on in my life. And as you can see in the picture of these first two pictures, what this was about was it was a teaching process I use at Laney College. The painting of the girl here, the painting is called pain. And I always said that this painting was me. And this was how I felt inside. This painting was painted. Approximately 13 years before my mother passed away. That was one of my monsters. Her mother was the other monster. But in my class when I was teaching, the students would always ask me, so you don't love your mother? I told them no. I don't love her. If she died today, I wouldn't know how I felt about it. And this here painting. And then one day I painted this painting. And I said that it's pain. And this is how I feel inside. And then the day that my mother died, can you go up one picture to me? And this is the, I, for some reason, I just took my phone and took a picture of myself. And if you look at my eyes, my face, and look at the picture of this or other painting of pain, you can see that it's identical almost from the, from the nose up. It's almost identical. The only thing is her mouth was open. My mouth was closed. But the eyes, the eyebrows are all the same, the nose, the bridge, all the same. I'm just going to jump in really quick. Henry, can you put it in present mode so we can see the photos better? Thank you. Yeah. And so what it wind up is that all this time, I actually really knew how I felt. You know, I just didn't know how to express it. But I did wind up expressing that on that one painting. I just didn't know I did it until I started, until I learned how to express myself. And I learned how to do it through art. I was transferred to San Quentin State prison. In 2015, 2011. After already spending decade, a decade and a half, just roaming the prisons systems of California. I could say that before I was violent, I fought a lot, stayed in trouble just like my normal life. But when I got to San Quentin, I'm going to the next place, when I got to San Quentin, I, this picture is called contemplation. When I got to San Quentin, I ran across the art program. And someone just had invited me to come in. And when I went in there, I seen black guys, white guys, Asians, Hispanics, they're all sitting around this here table together talking and enjoying the day. But where I came from, it wasn't like this. You couldn't do this. And so I found myself a corner and I just kind of sat there and watched everybody else. And unfortunately for me, Carol Newberg, the director, she used to walk over and slide me a piece of paper and a pencil and I just slide right back over there at her. Because I wasn't here for this. I was here because I had gotten upset outside. And so I came to get away. I needed a pace to breathe. And this was probably one of the places you can really actually just get away from the prison world out there. But long and behold, I started drawing and I started painting. I drew years ago when I was little. But I kind of let it go because I didn't have time for drawing. I didn't have time for, nothing I did ever came out good. So I didn't figure anything I would draw or anything I have drew would come out good either. Next picture Henry. And so at this piece here is a piece of stipple of stipple on point ism I would be like. And it took me months to do this picture. But I had the time because most of the time we were on lockdown anyhow. And this is this picture here, it's just called girl. And, you know, if while you're sitting in front of your screens if you move to the right move to the left, you'll notice the eyes will always stay on you, because I watched everybody. I watched everything around me, because that's how I felt still I was, it wasn't that I was scared to be in prison. I was just scared to be in the world. The next one, please. And this picture here is another one I am. My great grandmother was the only person who ever tried to protect me. She was also stipple or point ism. She was on one of the last people released as a slave down in Colorado Louisiana. And when I did this piece. I haven't seen her in years until I seen a picture of her in her coffin. And this was her. You know, I remember her sitting in a shotgun house and always trying to encourage me. When they knew they was going to beat on me I used to run and hide behind her skirt. And so I guess what I'm saying is, is that learning to use art in expressive way, it has been very helpful for me. It changed my life. It saved my life. And I'm sure as we continue in our lives, we're going to hear that more and more, how art has changed lives. And this painting here, if you happen to went to the San Francisco opera for Delio. They use this painting here on the, on the pamphlets on TV avatar to advertisements on everything this painting was used as a reference to for Delio art show. And it was basically me, just standing in the prison just looking down towards the end of the tier and San Quentin and which I think it was solid add or old Folsom. I meant to say, each tier as you see is is just racks of men locked in cages. I'm going up five tiers and until they just almost disappear into the darkness up there, the darkness and the smoke. On your right hand side, those were the catwalks where the guards will walk in with their with their guns and watching you in. They'll go bad that day. They'll shoot you from there also. But this was me just standing there. Next picture please. This picture here. Again, see I'm finding myself as you see I'm moving forward. And I'm finding myself this picture here was called the journey of a black man. And this is how I felt about myself. As as we all know, water has always depicted life. And it shows us coming from the motherland of Africa. If you look through that little doorway you see a ship sitting out there. You know, back when they were taking slaves out of Africa the ships couldn't get close to the shore, because the shallow water. They had to go through the bore of door away through a cliff where the water was deep. And they called it the doorway of no return because the slaves, the Africans used to see them take their people away through that door and never see them return. You know, not knowing they were being taken to another country and use the way they were. What you see in this painting, it leads to over time the birth of a new black man is just the pregnant woman whose only road was a road to incarceration, such as mine. You can go to the next movie. This is one of the few paintings that are pieces I did. Because I was looking for myself. You know, in prison. It's a good place to, to find yourself. You know, and, and so I was looking at my culture, who was I because I had no idea who I was. I had no idea at all. I mean, because the names that I was called. They couldn't have been me. It couldn't have been me. Next, next picture, please. This picture is called faith. And sooner or later, I learned that I had to believe in something. I knew I couldn't believe I know life couldn't be what I went through. And so I had to have faith in something that I was I was going to do better and how was I going to do better. And I just kept painting. You know, I mean, in terms of rough water has always depicted, you know, turmoil and, and my thing was just to keep my eyes on the prize. Just keep walking the way I was because I felt myself changing inside. I felt myself becoming something that I never been before. I felt myself starting to love myself through my art. Next picture. This is this for me was some people say it looked like Tahoe. I don't know, never been a Tahoe. But this is what I always wanted in my life. This painting was a was was what I feel inside of how I wanted to be or how I want to live how I want to find myself. When you lay down in there if you can see on your screens, there's a cabin down there and sitting on a beautiful lake. And I realized that I felt like I needed to have peace. I was finding that piece. The pine leaves were done by hand. And I was finding peace sitting there in San Quentin in the art class. I don't know if the administrations and prison authorities senators, whoever making these decisions, know how important it is for men women, people to have some way of expressing themselves, and I couldn't find anything more beautiful to express myself than art. Next one here. You know, I think when I painted this painting here we was going through a tuberculosis. I mean a TT. Yeah, tuberculosis outbreak. And I think it was Solano, Solano State Prison. I was, I was starting to feel love again. I've never really been in a relationship. I've never been in a relationship sober. You know, and it was, it was amazing, you know, you're almost 40 something years old, and you've never been in a sober relationship. And so I had met someone and, and I drew this painting. Next page. She was a Hispanic woman. And I always said in this your painting that she danced her way into my life. And this is what I painted as far as representing her and what she brought to my life. Next page. But ultimately, my life was this pictures called agony. I was inspired to come into San Quentin. This is how I felt. As you see, I threw some ban go in there. Hopefully didn't mind, but I was struggling. I've been going to the board constantly going to the board and constantly being denied. And, and if you see the guy calming out the manhole back there that's how I felt like I was trying to get out of a manhole. And, and my days and nights were just rolling by me. And the time I got was distorted with a broken justice system. You know, and I've always blamed other people for holding me down until I really realized the only hand that was holding me down was a hand that looked just like me, because it was my hand. It helped me down with my maladaptive behaviors with my drug addictions with my with the trauma that I never addressed. I held me down, but I've always bring another people for everything until I finally start realizing. I had to start and take a look at myself. Okay, next painting. So this is a journey. This is my life. You see all the exciting things behind me. There's nothing. And then there you couldn't couldn't see anything up ahead of me. You know, and most times when you hear people here always say, you always draw an elephant with his trunk up because of his pride because of his spirit. So I did mine with the trunk down, because I didn't have any pride and my spirits were low. Next painting, please. And this is what I wanted. I call it golden. I guess you can imagine where it came from. But this is what I wanted. I just wanted to be free. I just needed to be out of prison. I wanted. After I had started William James. I started working in the arts program and Sam Clinton. That show that I lived in and started cracking. And I started longing to be free. I look at some of the guys on the prison yard that I've been doing for decades now. And they're walking the same way same talk. I was walking, but I had to change something. This is not what I wanted to end my life at in prison with the life sentence. I needed to be free. Okay. And so I set back. And I watch this is also one of the paintings that am I earlier days. I'm still trying to find myself. Associated myself as a pattern. Beautiful, but deadly. Not that I'm beautiful. But, you know, I'm bad. But beautiful, but deadly. And I seen myself that way as I've tried to I tried to tell myself I was a good person, no matter how bad I was. Ultimately did not work out. And this is one that I have yet to understand why I painted this painting outside the fact that my mother was a Leo. It was her painting. When she died, her husband sent it back to me to make it part of my gallery. Next painting. This painting here is called pretty lady. This is when I kind of first started back painting. I needed some beauty in my life. And I am this is Shoshana Lathan, who also looks like Dorothy Dandridge. Dandridge, if from those of you who are old as I am, you know, who she was a great actress. And so I painted this piece here. I need it again. I'm trying to find the beauty and things and because I couldn't find it in me. So I searched outside myself. This was just a portrait I did for a guy. Go to the next painting. This painting here. It was from an Indian brother. I had painted for him. And this painting was supposed to be given to him. He was from the, I think, Henry helped me if I do wrong here. I'm from the northern area of California who was a bear and the brown tailed hawk. I think it was spotted hawk. And thank you. And so he asked me to do this here. Dream capture. And I did. And the day I finished it, I was walking out to the yard to give it to him. And I was no more than probably 20 feet from him when he was rushed in staff. And that's the last time I see him. I never got a chance to give the painting to him. I didn't know who his family was. So this painting here means a lot to me. Because, you know, fortunately for me through art, I, I'm still alive. And I just wish I could have gave it to him. Maybe we brought some change into his life. And I, I just, I just wish I could have given it to him. I just thought it was a great place to paint. Am I at the bottom, Henry? I believe so. That's the last. All right. Great. And so I guess what I'm saying is, is that, you know, being able to go to them. Into an art class. Where people got along. And like, and was saying. Very well said too. That you can go in there and you felt so comfortable sitting down. Just talking and painting and drawing with. From the day I exited prison, it was either William James, Peter Merckx, there was someone called Laurie Brooks, Carol Newford, Henry himself, there was someone always there promoting me to continue painting, continue painting, continue painting. And I did, and by so, like I said, I teach at Laney College, I use it in my counseling as art therapy, I still use it on me and myself. Even today when I find myself becoming depressed or upset about something, I take a brush and I just paint away a cloudy day and paint sunshine back into my life. So I just hope that by us doing this tonight that it gets out there, that art is a means of transformation, art is a doorway to the unknown. I mean, I just, I can only imagine what I would have been or what I could have done if I knew I could have expressed art myself through art. I too was told that boys don't cry. I was denied the opportunity as a child to express myself. And so I guess now I have the opportunity to, through art, to express myself. And I want to thank each and every one of you out there. My time I know is good. I want to express everyone out there. Thank you for opening these doors and hopefully get this message out to all the right people to let them know that we need these programs in the prison system. Thank you, Isaiah. Another powerful presentation and sharing of your journey. And thank you. The last panelist is Henry Frank, which is me. Henry Frank is a descendant of the great nations of the Yurok and Pomo tribes. He is a returning resident prison arts project alumni slash clerk currently working with the William James Association as the communications administrator and prison arts project teaching artists. He uses his art to amplify the voices of people of color specifically Native Americans, people who are currently experiencing incarceration and returning residents, also known as formerly incarcerated to expose the mistreatment, the dehumanization and desolation. These people have voices. His contribution is to make sure their voices are heard beyond the reservations and the prison walls. Art personally has freed and expanded his scope of humanity and himself. And it has been a tool for introspection, connection and expression. All right. Well, thank you for having us all and thank you for having me here for the invite. It's very close to me talking about, I guess, the activism and the support of the arts inside of correctional facilities, maybe state, city, juvenile hall or, you know, other places that are underserved. And I'm just going to go on kind of chronological order with my thing. This is stairway to the spirits in 1999. So I've been incarcerated like five years. I was just doing a little thing sat first and then they got this like this. I think it was, I can't remember what it was like 12 by 16 art pad wasn't the best of quality, but they had these colored pencils that came with it. And then I was able to get the pens through quarterly packages and stuff. And as a child, I mean, I knew I was native. I was Yorakupomo and I knew of our dances and our ceremonies and all that stuff. But we didn't spend a whole lot of time there and I wasn't introduced to the sweat lodge until I was in San Quentin when my, I guess, my current spiritual I mean, it's all of it, but my most recent, I say, and that's like, you know, almost 30 years ago, but it just came out through my art using the basket industry and then some of the animals that I believe are that I know were my spirit guys to get me to the next level 2007 in San Quentin at this point up to this point right here, I accept it to die in prison. I had a 29 year life sentence and I didn't see anybody going home, no matter how many degrees they had PhD, no matter what program they had, no matter what they did, no way it was going home. So I was like, well, this is it. This is my life. And then I met a brother named Arles. He's my elder and I can't get into all of it. Don't have enough time. But there was a point where we were walking out and in San Quentin, you could see the 101 and you could see I think it's Larkspur and all this stuff, all this life that's going on out there. And I never looked out there. And then one day he looked at me and he's like, you're a stupid ass person. And I was like, what? He's like, if you can't see yourself outside of those walls, you'll never be outside of those walls. And that was the beginning of my journey of getting outside of those walls. And I believe that was like 2005, 2006. And so at this point, I started going to self-help groups and I started, you know, you know, I mean, I got to arts and corrections first thing. And I had that. But this piece here represented that I'm no longer, you know, dying or no longer rotting in prison. I'm actually just in a hibernation until this winter storm passes. And then here's 2008, got salmon. And it's just, you know, in the Klamath, you know, with the spawning and the salmon and then the bear really connecting with my bear medicine and my bear spirit and just, you know, manifest it. And then in 2012. Actually, that's not right. I don't think I think that was 2010. Actually, sorry about that. But I got too sad if they moved me out of San Quentin, not voluntarily. And they put me down in a substance abuse treatment facility in Corcoran and the Mac committee, which were the liaison between the population and the administration, there happened to be a food strike and a work strike within that population. And so they came in, you know, we were the head of the snake. So they cut the head of the snake off and threw it all in the hole. And I'm sitting in the hole and which is like a jail with inside the prison, if you don't know, and it's waiting to be, you know, to go to your hearing. And so I'm sitting there and I'm just like, wow, you know, how did I get to this point with all of the after all of the programming after the arts and corrections, after, you know, men in being put away, childless things and all these other programs that were helping me and I'm like, OK, well, do I resort back to my level four mentality? I know how to, you know, survive in this environment with that ideology and or do I implement, you know, all of the new tools that I was given in San Quentin and, you know, conflict resolution, really looking into myself, what feelings am I having, you know, what needs are not being met and just understanding for myself that, you know, I was scared and I was confused and I was angry and all of these things and I was just laying on the bunk. And truth be told, I had some tears come in town my face because I didn't know what to do. Do I tell on everybody who was part of it? Do I just roll with it? Do I just keep up what I've been doing? And I just really, my honest thought was, man, I wish I was back in that arts and corrections studio right now, just painting and I just like, man, I wish I had a canvas and I rolled my head over and then I saw this bag and it was a bag that they put your you get your roll of toilet paper without the cardboard thing in it and you get some tooth powder, you get two envelopes, a couple of pieces of paper and then like a pen filler that's cut down to like an inch and a half without the outside of it. And so I just tore off the gluey part of the envelope, rolled it around the pen and I took apart the bag and I just start from one corner of the upper left hand corner and I just drew all the way across to the lower right hand corner. And by the end of it, I was calm. I would have had a clear head to think about like, what is the best strategy to, you know, get back to the main line? And and it's and at the time, I was just putting all of that uncertainty into this paper and then years later when I get to see it and there's a beautiful story behind it, but I'm not going to share it today. But I mean, it's just a really just a great connection connection piece. But today I get to see the the battle within me that was going on. Do I continue, you know, my self help programming, my self improvement or do I go back to what I knew, you know, and that's the dark spot. But even in the dark spots, if you look at there's butterflies and dragonflies are still that piece that wants to be there. But it helped me get through that. And in 2013, I was finally released and this is the first block print that I got to do. And it was probably like literally maybe a month or two months after my release. And this one is called Finally Home. And most recently I've been. Dealing. So a little background when I was in in there, I rarely, rarely did anything that represented prison or represented in my mind, you know, the trauma of it and the hardships of it and the. Oh, what's the heinousness of it and the callousness of it and the disconnection of it and just really put my my energies into Native American like my spirit guides that, you know, that are not caves. They can fly wherever they want, go wherever they want and connect it with that and then just connect with my past and my ancestors. And so recently I've been able I'm at a spot where I can really look back and reflect on, you know, just the hardships and the torment of prison. And I just happened to put it into Lego sculptures. This is the mine prison series, the series one. And this one is the minefield. And it's just the middle one in the in the first one from the lab. And then the visiting room and the visiting room was almost like the arts and corrections where it was a neutral area where there was smiles and there was family and, you know, just people getting along. And then from that came the gun towers and then also the. The transportation bus. And. Just quickly going through here and just, you know, get a full kind of view of the prison. And then here's the visiting room, all of it custom made to the decals and stuff. And then getting into my spirituality again for the people with the bear dancer over sweat lodge and then easy come, easy go, getting into, you know, really seeing that burst of color on these really single colored prison walls and prison wall fences and stuff like that. And Paul marks the spot and that's the dance arbor that I first bear danced in. And then getting into really the trauma of what I've experienced and what I've seen with get down. Headshot, actually, it's no warning shots, but the title. And then finally, this one here, I was just hurting so much, maybe like a couple of weeks ago, and it was like false heart attacks. And I just like, I just want to put it in this camp. I want to capture it on I want to trap it in this canvas. And this is the piece that came out, desperation meets helplessness. And this is deep in prayer. This one just came to me and just, I mean, it's just a beautiful piece. Sorry for going so quickly, but I just want to be mindful of the time and everybody's, you know, time as well. And so if there's any questions, I'm sure we can about another 10 minutes or so. Hi, I'm going to come on and there is a lot of questions in the chat or like a lot of a lot of comments slash questions. So I'm going to try to dig through some of them. There was one that was just came through. What what is the classroom setting like? And so do they teach you techniques? Do you talk about themes? What is that like? It depends. I'll speak first. Sorry, it just depends on, you know, what the classes or portrait classes. There's open studio. There's, you know, landscaping and stuff like that. I know when I first got in there was Patrick Maloney. May he rest in peace, but he did a color theory class. And he actually got a chrono for it, saying, you know, that you completed all his steps that you needed to. And then there was blending of, I think, with the best feeling when we were doing the booktowers and book covers and just blending a bunch of those stuff together. And so but if you're in the open studio, you know, you just kind of do what you're doing and then everybody kind of like just peer teaches one another. And which which did you all like the best? Did you draw to one more to the other? For me, I really connect it with block printing. And that was a Katia McCulloch's class in San Quentin. Just it was just great vaging out on, you know, sketching out your piece and then making all the cuts in it where you just it's a it's a meditative state, just like painting. But this one was just new to me. And it's just I just really got into it. Yeah, I I enjoyed I enjoyed all the tests because I was just learning so much. I'm before the art class, I was just paper, pen and pencil, so everything was new to me. And I was just learning everything I can. I have a lot of pieces that are in the stipple. I love ink. I love doing a lot of pieces with ink. And so I think if I had a choice, it just takes a lot. But I love the stipple. I love the coloring in your work, too. I say it's so muted down and like powerful at the same time. A couple of people mentioned, you know, you all mentioned and then they all mentioned that how trauma really comes up when you're you're making your art and how it helped you all work through that. And so did you start learning about like the impacts of your trauma while you were doing art, or was that like a separate class that you took? Or how did you realize that that trauma was there and that art could really help unpack that? OK, I'll go first on this one. All right, so for me, I a Senate bill came through the prison system to train inmates to become counselors, working as one day, get out of prison, then come back into mentorship. I went through that program. And so by being a parallel process, me studying but using I affirmations so I can talk about myself is when I started learning that I am traumatized. I do have problems, not problems. I have issues, you know, and so and then I realized when I find and start finding out what they was, I started using art as a means of like when I feel myself starting to overload, I go draw, I'll do stipple, I'll sketch because most of the time I was locked in the cell because of the kind of prisons I was in. But no, it took art for me to free myself, free myself mentally. Yeah, art just came naturally to me from expressing my emotion because I didn't know how and it was so much in my head, in my heart, in my soul that it had to get out somehow. And it came really natural to me to I even when I didn't even know it. I just felt good when I got it out on paper. I felt relief. I felt weight off my shoulders. So it came natural to me like that without me even knowing. Thank you. So there's there's a lot of love in the audience coming through. I hope you're all reading those in the chat. And I did there was a question earlier. It was kind of quick going through all of the art. So this is available on our YouTube so you can watch it again. And I'm going to put that in the chat right now. Everything is in this one doc you can find. And I'll just read a couple, a couple of the amazing comments I see is the three of you have created such powerful work from deep, difficult and authentic inner growth. Thank you for sharing such powerful and expressive work. And again, you can find the website to the William James Association. And if you scroll all the way down, you will see a donation button that you can help help prolong and make this project live forever. Well, hopefully not forever. I mean, wouldn't it be nice if it was not happening forever? There was no need for, you know, prison arts program. That's a streamlined but all right. So any final questions from our audience or would anybody like to say anything from the crowd? Because I do see Carol's out there. I see Lori Brooks is in the audience. So is Zoe. So is Carol. And so is Peter Mertz. So if anyone else wants to say anything, you're welcome to to I can make that happen. Carol, I'm going to give you the mic. And I also saw Zoe and Ned, too, just to give them a shout out. And Sonia is out there, too. I saw. Oh, good. And Laura. Yeah. So I just want to say that I hearing each of you tell your stories and see your work. And I know you and I've seen your work. But this just came together in such a beautiful moving way. It's a valuable, valuable thing to have documented. I'm really glad that it's recorded in this thank you. And I thank you all for being able to share like this. It's it's such a role model, really, for a lot of people. It's like you were saying, you know, you see artists like we come inside and we're moved and, you know, see amazing people and amazing things happen. And then you take that, you know, we're so grateful for all that coming in and sharing with you and getting to witness. And then you go out and share it further. It's just thank you. Thank you. This is wonderful. Thank you, Carol. All right, final words, please, please close us all out. Any final words from the three of you? You want me to call on you? Bonne, you go first. Like I wrote on on the the chat. Thank you for all my instructors. You became friends to me in there through art taught me a lot, showed me that. Art could be a bridge between folks that are incarcerated and the community. And you help us spread our image, spread our creativity, just spread what we are deepest feelings. And then without. Without art, I think my life would have been different. I think my healing process would have been different and harder. And I think that through art, I've I've made a family outside of my family because I'm still are connected with the artists that I sat next to. When Henry showed the photos, it bring it bring back a lot of memory of the class that I was in and a lot of folks that I was with. And I still call them my brothers. So thank you, Isaiah. OK, thank you. I just want to say this to the people in uncuffed. Some of the guys that I'm. And. Your hustle. Karen and now you, Steve Emmerich, Laurie. Even Henry, Bonne. And what I'm trying to say is that. You know, it's a shame when you have to go to prison. Define people and that you love and care about. And that's what I did. I don't think I ever told anyone that I really love them or care about them. But when I got out of prison, I just felt like. The William James Association just wrapped their arms around me. And held me and they stayed with me from the day I was there, still with me. Um, I hear from all the time I stay close to them. I never realized while sitting in prison that these would become. Friends of my family, like Bonne said, families of mine. And I just want to let them know that thank you for everything. You've done so much for me and I appreciate you all. I think I read your lips that I'm I'm next. Who's trying to get to my mind? You'll send her and you got it again. Just I mean, just a heartfelt thank you, deep appreciation and gratefulness to the San Francisco Public Life Library and to Anissa for hosting us and giving us the space for Kiln Newbork for coordinating it with you to your hustle to the William James Association and just to let people know, you know, we're not the only organization out there for the arts and corrections. There are many others out there up and down the state and a lot of these prisons. So appreciation to all of the teachers who have dedicated, you know, the time that they they give to the men and women inside experience incarceration and really just a deep gratitude because it just goes beyond just the instruction. It goes beyond the materials. You know, it goes beyond just, you know, technique, you know, they're creating a space and displaying kindness and equity and equality and professionalism, you know, and what a normal citizen is and, you know, having that professional boundary friendship slash instructor. And then just, you know, a shout out to the California think a lawyer for the arts, the California Arts shoot, CAC Council to TPW to JAC, you know, all of these organizations that support our organizations as well to make this happen and CDC are, you know, for, you know, making those connections with the CAC and all these other groups to get down to us and have a working relationship and try to make the carceral environment a little bit better. So just and thank you for all the people that took the time to come in and listen to us and hear some new ideas and here's some life stories and hopefully, you know, make it more humanized for the people who are wearing these, you know, color-coded clothing that depicts them as, you know, incarcerated incarcerated. So thank you. Thank you, Henry. Thank you, Bun. Thank you, Isaiah. Carol, the prison arts program, William James, we appreciate you for sharing your story and definitely art transforms and super powerful library community. I'll see you here.