Closing Ceremony: Inside-Out Winter 2011

Katie D.

March 15, 2011 - 7:09 PM

Every Inside-Out class ends with a formal closing ceremony to celebrate the class and our time together. It is a chance to have informal time together to say goodbye, and an opportunity to speak formally about the meaning of the term. I have been a part of three closing ceremonies now, three 'graduations' from Inside-Out. I cry every time. Because of the No Contact policy, the inside students out outside students will not be able to see each other again, they can't talk on the phone, visit, or write. A goodbye at the end of Inside-Out is goodbye forever. And after a ten-week class together, goodbye is a difficult thing.

As a employee of the program this time, I knew I would be returning to OSP for future classes and work with the inside students as part of the program. So my sadness this class was for the parting of our group: the community we had created during those ten weeks and the times we had shared. I was sad for the participants of our group, and the loss they were experiencing.

Each final day together begins with a meal. This is a deeply meaningful experience for me. There is something so human and basic about breaking bread together. There is also something powerful about sharing food from the outside with folks in prison. We shopped at Costco before the class: five UO students and myself, wandering the shelves with our list of approved food to bring in, and imagining what we would most like to eat if it had been years since we had had a choice. We got fresh, beautiful fruit (strawberries and cantaloupe by request) and vegetables (with real Ranch dressing, which is apparently substituted for mayonnaise with pepper at OSP). We got sushi and cupcakes and chips with mango salsa. We got lots of pizza, and lots of dessert. Then we carried the whole banquet up to our classroom, and sat in little groups, sharing food together.

I love that time--it feels like freedom. I watched the room of students I'd come to know so well, and felt inspired by everything we had done together. I felt, again and again, that being in that room was an honor and a privilege. And I chatted with the students around me, talking about everything from politics to program evaluation and, of course, the food.

Then we had speeches. The students had voted for four speakers to present their experiences to the class. Francisco went first, and spoke so movingly about the power of this class, which helped him find a voice and a belief in his own power. He told us to love life, and everyone in it. We all got choked up, and all felt so proud. Then Kehala spoke. She spoke about the class, and then she sang. I've attached a link to the Youtube she sent to us. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxUpC2Pv5ho ) It's an adaptation of Irish sayings, and she said it expressed what she wanted for all of us. I couldn't believe she was there, singing a cappella in an almost-crying voice. The "crowd" went nuts. Then Sterling spoke, addressing us with his directness and candor, his humor we all loved so much. He talked about taking college for the first time, and the feeling of leaving prison for the duration of the class, as he focused on being a student. The classroom was free space, even within the prison. Josh went last, speaking from his heart and his economics training. He spoke about our class and what we had learned, bringing us all back as witnesses to our own experiences.

Then we sat in our circle, and each had a chance to speak freely and informally, giving something to the group for our memories, taking the respect and affirmation of the group. Then we said our goodbyes and parted. Just like that, off to resume life. With Kehala's song still echoing in my mind, we walked out of our classroom in OSP. It is a rare thing to have such a finality to a phase of life.

As I told the group, I will carry all of them with me forever. I will work as I can for social justice and for human connection, always in their honor and always with them in mind. So, like all things, the experience doesn't end.

"May the wind be always at your back,
and the sun shine warm upon your face
may the rains fall softly on your field
until the day we meet again..."