Most Thursdays my friend and I would meet at Blue Mango, a cozy Thai restaurant just five minutes away from Santa Clara Juvenile Hall where we ran writing workshops for The Beat Within each week at 6:30 p.m. This particular Thursday evening was March 5, 2020. As we slurped up our noodles, my phone buzzed with a text. Another volunteer had decided not to facilitate due to the reported dangers of Covid. I must admit to being slightly frazzled. I respected her decision, but it gave us a problem for the evening. We would be short of facilitators and that meant I would need to try and cover her two units as well as my own. I wondered if the press was exaggerating the potential impact of this new disease. I remembered the panic over the SARS virus which had actually resulted in just a handful of cases in the USA and not a single death. Surely this would be just another storm in a teacup?
We drove as usual to the Hall and checked in through security. A young man I knew from workshops had just been brought in and we grimaced sadly at each other in greeting. Not a good night for him. Sometimes this place just felt like a revolving door. We seemed to be locking kids up and then sending them back to exactly the same environment expecting a different outcome. The writing workshops highlighted the tremendous struggles and potential of these young people. In different circumstances, these would be the kids who set off to Business School determined to make a name for themselves and money for their family. The lessons provided by the School of the Streets had harsh consequences.
That night as usual the boys were generally receptive. I rushed from unit to unit carrying stacks of magazines and distributing topics and paper. Even when things were as hectic as they were this evening, it was always fun. I had known many of the youth for a few years now, and they were amazingly tolerant of this strange woman with a cat tattoo and a British accent. We spoke a common language of sarcasm and poked fun at each other, always keeping it respectful. I really love hanging out with these kids. I learn so much from them. I find them unbelievably strong, charming, funny, persuasive, and smart. In our workshops we try to pierce little holes in the shells of machismo, to encourage the boys to be strong enough to show vulnerability. It is challenging for the youth to open up in front of their peers, and often it is only on paper that many will explore the feelings that need to be expressed in order to heal. I gathered up the pieces they had written at the end of the night and went home to read them. It was a task I relished. All you need to be a good writer is to have something to say, and these youngsters had plenty to say, having experienced more trauma in their young lives than most of us do in a lifetime. I would put little notes on the pieces so I could follow up and discuss their work with them the next week. If a word or an incident needed to be edited for appropriateness, I wanted the author to have the chance to change it. Sometimes a really powerful piece might be even more amazing if one aspect was developed more fully. The students weren’t always into editing their work, but it could lead to valuable discussion. Little did I know that I would not have the opportunity to take my sheaf of papers back to the young writers that week, or indeed, for years to come.
Just one day later on March 6, 2020, a cruise ship carrying 3500 people was held at sea instead of being allowed to dock in San Francisco as a number people tested positive for Covid-19. On March 11 the World Health Organization declared Covid -19 a pandemic, on March 13 President Trump declared a National Emergency, and on March 19 California issued a statewide Stay-at-Home order. All programs were suspended at Santa Clara Juvenile Hall and I had to admit I had been completely wrong about the impact of this disease.
We couldn’t go into the units anymore and at this point our only option was to drop off the topics anyway and hope that the youth would still choose to write. We weren’t optimistic as these kids were going through a dystopian experience inside the Hall. There were no programs and no school. Masks were obligatory and everyone was separated by at least six feet. These are rules that all of us had to live by, but in the hall If there was an outbreak in the unit, the youth needed to stay in their rooms, effectively in solitary confinement. All visits were cancelled and in the early days of the outbreak there was no option for Zooming at the Hall. Being locked up was bleak enough, but suddenly the situation seemed to have turned nightmarish for the youth and must have been incredibly stressful for the staff as well. Remarkably a number of our young writers still took advantage of the opportunity to contribute to the magazine, and we appreciated each piece so much. The Beat went on…
Like so many others, we hunkered down and learned to use Zoom to communicate with our loved ones. Every time I felt isolated or frustrated, I only needed to think of the situation in Juvenile Hall to give myself a kick in the pants. How on earth could I ever feel even the tiniest bit sorry for myself compared to what others were going through? It was so exciting when we got the news that Santa Clara Juvenile Hall was ready to try
workshopping via Zoom. We really didn’t know what to expect. Teacher friends and family had been struggling to use Zoom to teach classes effectively, but in those situations each student had access to a computer. Our students in the hall had one computer screen at the front of the classroom. Everyone was masked and spread out so we couldn’t see half the youth and at first it was hard at first to recognize those we could see. I called two young men each other’s names for over a month before they confessed that they had been messing with me. Zoom workshops were awkward in other ways. The sound quality was so bad that when young people stepped up to engage in a discussion, we couldn’t really hear them. I often resorted to thanking them for sharing their perspective without actually having a clue what their perspective was. With the support of some really awesome staff, the workshops were happening but we were definitely getting less writing than before and, it felt dissatisfying not being able to actively engage in a discussion or go and crouch down next to someone who needed some extra motivation.
Two events really improved the quality of our workshops during Covid. The first, ironically, was exposure to Covid in several of the units. This meant that we couldn’t run our Zoom workshops as usual, but in some cases the students were able to rotate through individual workshops and this was a game changer. Discussions were more open and a lot easier to hear! Freedom from peer pressure really enabled many young men to be much more honest about feelings of vulnerability and past struggles. The second change was that we began providing a small bag of chips to youth who wrote at least half a page of thoughtful reflections on one of our topics. We were all proponents of intrinsic motivation, but desperate circumstances call for desperate measures! First of all, these kids were having a pretty miserable time in general. The pandemic had deprived them of parent visits and many of their regular distractions. It’s amazing how even a small bag of chips can brighten a sad day, especially when it is a customized bag of chips that you earned and specifically requested at the bottom of your page of writing. I used to think chips came in four main flavors – plain, sour cream and onion, salt and vinegar, and barbecue were the only ones I ever looked for. I have learned more than I ever needed to know about all the potato chip possibilities in the universe. I now understand the important distinction between Takis Nitro and Takis Fuego (heaven forbid we get them mixed up and deliver the wrong bag). How to choose between Doritos Flamin’ Hot Cool Ranch, Doritos Crunch Spicy Ranch, Doritos Flamas or Doritos Spicy Sweet Chili? Who knew Cheetos came in so many different levels of hotness! The chips made a difference, and when (if) the pandemic is truly over and we can go to workshops in person again, I have no idea how we will manage to put an end to that incentive. I have a strong suspicion that the youth would rather stick to Zoom and have their chips.
The one on one workshops helped us get to know the youth on a very different level and so when we went back to group workshops on Zoom, they were very relaxed in a positive way. One unit in particular (you know who you are!) became incredibly productive. No matter what had gone on during the day, they would come in to the room ready for the routine of reading and discussing each topic, write in a really focused and thoughtful way, then one by one volunteer to come up to the screen and read their pieces aloud. Even boys who were reluctant to share at first, soon found the courage to join their peers. In the midst of a pandemic, youth were stepping up more than ever and expressing themselves with honesty, reflecting on their mistakes and successes.
In summary, the youth and The Beat managed to weather Covid in Santa Clara County Juvenile Hall and there were even some positive developments. A number of boys in all units began writing multiple pieces (despite knowing they wouldn’t get extra chips;-) and earned features in the magazines. One highly valued writer continues to share his wisdom on multiple pages every week. We may not have been able to see the kids in person, but a talented staff member began to draw covers for us featuring caricatures of the boys as super heroes or characters from the Simpsons. We worked with the administration to find a system to count significant Beat writing towards high school credits. We attended graduations over Zoom and saw one of our dedicated writers bursting with pride, holding a diploma that he never expected to earn on the outs. As a result of Covid, I was able to spend a lot of Zoom time with a colleague in Nicaragua whom I have come to love and respect. This is a huge shout out to the supportive staff who have worked with us during this historic pandemic, a shout out to the clear and compassionate leadership and flexible facilitators at The Beat Within, but most of all a shout-out to the youth themselves. Over these past two years, the young men and women in the Hall have taught us more lessons than ever about resilience, hope, courage, and change. And chips.
-Alison
