Why I Don’t Teach Yoga at Cook County Jail Anymore

I taught yoga to women at Chicago’s Cook County Jail for more than three years. At first I was one of a rotating cast of teachers affiliated with a non-profit, so I would teach every month or two, but later I taught weekly on my own. I did not teach with the intention of reducing recidivism or changing anyone’s behavior, giving people “another way to think about” their incarceration. The justice system in the US does not function fairly or well, and I knew that from day one. I volunteered with the intention of offering a tool for self-care and stress relief to women held at the jail who might not have had much access before their incarceration or during.

Not the first time

Teaching yoga at Cook County Jail wasn’t the first time I’d met people who had experience with the criminal justice system – for over four years, and in two cities, I was a running volunteer with a national non-profit that partners with residential homeless shelters. In one case the partner shelter was specifically for men who’d been released from incarceration. Four years of friendships and personal interactions made the issue of incarceration feel close to my heart, even though I hadn’t had a close family member or friend incarcerated at length and hadn’t personally felt that devastating impact. I’d also offered yoga in a variety of other service settings, such as public libraries in areas without much yoga on offer, residential homeless shelters, and at an organization serving sexual violence survivors.

Covid-era changes

At Cook County Jail, programming stopped, of course, as the pandemic hit, and as far as I know, has not resumed more than a year later. In addition to the pandemic, this last year has brought a lot more attention in the US to topics like racial justice and incarceration. Racism in general and in the justice system are by no means new issues, but the amount of information easily available this last year has skyrocketed.

In 2020, I participated in local protests and learned about defunding the police. I agree with the movement to defund the police. Apparently there was a similar movement to defund the sheriff, which is the department that manages Cook County Jail. Volunteers – likely those who are contact points for programs – were asked to provide statements for hearings about funding, to say that defunding the sheriff meant defunding our programs. It wouldn’t be held against us if we decided not to provide statements of course, we were told in an email, but please do cc the staff member reaching out with our statements.

The problem

This was problematic because as volunteers, we didn’t receive any of the sheriff’s budget. It just wasn’t true that defunding the sheriff meant defunding our programs … unless the *sheriff* decided to end programming as a way to save a small amount of funds on the few staff who worked with programs. It’s not impossible this would happen, but it would be a deliberate decision on the sheriff’s part, not an inevitable result of budget cuts. The number of staff working with programming is miniscule compared to the rest of the staff.

Money should be taken away from the sheriff’s massive budget. Fewer people should be incarcerated – it is not uncommon for people to be at Cook County Jail months or more awaiting trials. The overwhelming majority are pre-trial and have not been convicted. Many of the women I taught had children they could not be withs for months or more while they were there.

To offer up the availability of weekly yoga classes as a reason to maintain a massive budget and continue incarcerating people pre-trial at length… it’s not right. What about other programs? There are education programs, for instance, Chicago Public Schools employees work at the jail … and they are Chicago Public School employees, also not recipients of the sheriff’s budget.

Did some of the women benefit from yoga? Sure. Would they benefit more from NOT being incarcerated and away from their children and jobs and families for months on end? Probably. It’s obviously not an actual possibility, to choose between those two options, EITHER yoga continues at the jail OR the jail stops incarcerating people, but this request for volunteers to make statements for the hearing makes it clear how valuable these programs are to the sheriff: they allow the jail to point to the “good” that it does. In other words, they soften the appearance of what the jail actually does – incarcerate poor people who are overwhelmingly Black and Brown pre-trial, at length. And I think as volunteers offering this programming, at least now in light of all the information we have from this last year, we need to consider the possibility that collectively, our work may cause harm.

Who benefits?

Another worthwhile question to ask is, did *I* benefit from offering yoga at the jail? I volunteered, I had my $150 yearly liability insurance reimbursed a few times, but beyond that I didn’t benefit financially. But professionally? Absolutely. What catches people’s ears more, teaching a library weekly for three years or teaching at Cook County Jail? How many opportunities presented themselves to me because I did this thing that sounded “cool” and “edgy”? I’ll never know for sure, but no doubt quite a few.

I think I approached the work ethically, I have a respect for all the people I teach, and that respect for people in public classes is no different for people who are incarcerated. I think raising awareness about offering yoga in settings where it’s rare is worthwhile, and engaging people in workshops such as the one I lead or more formal trauma informed trainings is important. Certainly being able to say I taught at Cook County Jail helped me do those things.

But there’s a also fair chance that *I* benefited more from offering yoga at the jail than the women I taught. I think acknowledging that, the humility it takes, is positive, but in light of all of the other concerns about incarceration and the role programs like yoga play … it’s also a problem that I benefited so much. And I don’t think I’m alone in benefitting from this work.

Who runs the non-profits?

I’m not on the board of the organization that I was affiliated with. I served as their volunteer coordinator for $100/month for three months. When I think about how non-profits pivoted following George Floyd’s murder and the racial justice movement, questions arise in my mind that I’d now ask about any organization and their board, particularly organizations sending mostly white volunteers to offer services to incarcerated people who are Black, Indigenous and People of Color.

What is the board’s relationship to the actual teaching work being done? Are some board members yoga instructors who teach or have taught as volunteers? Have board members ever been to the jail in person? Does the board seek out information about how things on the ground are going day to day and take an interest in being informed about that?

What was their approach to racial justice prior to 2020? Did they require training for volunteers at all, in trauma or whatever relevant field, or training specific to racial justice? What about after 2020? Did anything change in a positive way?

Was their board diverse in terms of race, ethnicity, or life experience (in the case of non-profits offering programming in jails or prisons, in terms of being incarcerated)? What about after 2020 – was there any initiative to cultivate this sort of diversity?

How did the board as a group – or individual board members – approach the topic of racial justice prior to 2020, during the many movements in the news during 2020, and post-2020? For instance, did board members publicly voice support for the police? For people of color? For protestors?

How have board members spoken about the people that volunteers taught, that is, in ways that are respectful or in ways that are disparaging?

In this particular situation, how did the board respond to the request to offer supportive statements to the sheriff? Even if they chose not to make a statement, did they consider or make public steps to ensure the work wouldn’t be used as a way for the jail to soften the public appearance of what they jail does?

Obviously running a program in a jail will require some amount of collaboration with the sheriff. From personal experience, I acknowledge that isn’t an easy line to walk – I certainly met staff who were good people, but the issue is much bigger than individuals and so it’s an important line to walk.

Going forward

Aside from working with one individual I knew personally who had a background in both yoga and social work to alternate weekly classes, I do not place volunteers or create opportunities for people to volunteer in service settings. I know the work I have done – and need to continue to do – around the topic of “service work” and racial justice. And that’s one of the reasons I DID think it was appropriate for me to teach at the jail in the past. These days it seems clear that these programs benefit volunteers quite a bit, and pretty apparently benefit the jail – by its own admission. I certainly cannot speak for each and every non-profit or individual offering yoga to people who are incarcerated, and I don’t claim to. But plenty of them DO require training for volunteers in trauma and racial justice, some DO have founders who have been incarcerated themselves, at least one that I know of spoke out against the problems in the US justice system during their trauma informed yoga training I took years ago.

It concerns me that yoga programs do not benefit the people who are incarcerated and participating in the classes enough, and may actually function to slow down the process of improving the justice system. That’s why I will (and already do) devote my energy to other settings, and continue to support the movement to defund the police, defund the sheriff, and redirect funds to more worthwhile causes.