Once Everything Comes Out on Paper

Twice a month, inmates at the Topeka Correctional Facility gather to write. “Writing is like meditation for me,” says Hilary C. “It keeps me calm and out of trouble instead of getting angry and lashing out.” Currently serving time at the state’s women’s prison, Hilary has reconnected through her writing to her childhood, to the girl who grew up in Wyandotte County and kept a journal. Her work often contains rhymes that echo her childhood literary idol, Dr. Seuss, and she looks forward to one day teaching poetry to her children.

“I like that I can share my work and not be judged for it,” she says. “I write about my kids a lot, and I’ll share the pieces with them when I get out.”

The beginnings of this program can be traced to around 2008, when retired journalist Dave Ranney volunteered through the national Reaching Out from Within program. The women he met inside prison persuaded him to help them stage a play for other inmates, legislators and guests. One of these guests turned out to be Washburn University professor and theater chair Sharon Sullivan. At Ranney’s invitation, Sullivan soon produced a second play with the group and agreed to lead a writing class.

“There aren’t a lot of creative outlets like this in prison where women can work through their feelings in a safe place,” Sullivan says. “The first participants named the group ‘Sisters of Survival’ and welcomed the chance to process their experiences and tell their stories.”

The group’s name reflected some of the members’ priorities for what they wanted to explore in their work.

“They’ve all been through trauma—sexual and child abuse, poverty, neglect, multiple foster care placements and/or human trafficking,” Sullivan says. “Although they’ve broken the law, we’ve let them down as a society by not providing therapy and rehabilitation services to give them a better skill set and coping abilities. I’m humbled by their strength and perseverance and astounded by their resilience.”

Louise Krug, Washburn University assistant professor of English and author of two memoirs, has been teaching in the program for three years. “They’re not afraid to be vulnerable,” Krug says. “They just lay it all out there and trust their peers to be accepting, and they are.”

Lyndsey G., a writing group member and native of Pryor, Oklahoma, says, “I was never able to express myself when I was younger, but I was a big reader. The first night of class when I had to write something and read it out loud, I was so overwhelmed by the finger snapping and people telling me I did a good job that I went back to my room and cried. Now I reflect on what I’ve written and I don’t worry if the words don’t rhyme.”

Writing group member Keaire B. grew up keeping journals and earned “A” grades in writing classes as a young student in what she recalls as “rough areas” of Kansas City, Kansas. “I had to be closeted about being gay, so writing in journals was my release and I was passionate about it.” Keaire has returned to writing inside the facility. “Now I write about the harsh side of life, the sides people don’t like to think about, like poverty and the struggle of being black in America,” she says. “We think we’re all different, but we’re all more similar than we think.”