Lyrics From Lockdown
As I’ve stated before, having a parent in prison is not something that I brag about or openly share. In retrospect, it was perfect timing. I started Columbia University in New York City in August 2022. We were divided into new student orientation groups and my group was going to attend a play in Harlem at the Apollo Theater. Long story short, I was surrounded by other students that I had just met. I was trying to make a good impression, make friends, and figure out the entire college experience. It was one of the first things I did with my orientation group. I did not know what the play was going to be about, only that we were going to go to the historic Apollo Theater and I was very excited to see “Lyrics from Lockdown” and I was excited.
The funny thing is, I did not know the content of the play until I was standing in line outside the door of the illuminated theater on 125th street. Over the music of a local street performer, my orientation leader shouted, “This is about incarceration which can be a pretty heavy topic. Self-care comes first, if you find yourself needing space, take some and take a breather.”
Before this, the only thing we knew about the play was its location and its title and nowadays when people hear “lockdown,” our mind calls forth images of blue pleated masks, zoom screens, and colorful dots adorning sidewalks and stores to mark six feet. This play was constructed during the heat of the Covid-19 pandemic and called out the stark difference between lockdown as it appeared behind a computer screen while resting against pillows, and that of the steel bars that so many Americans experience today.
As it set in for me, I started to feel a surge of panic. Just the day before, we discussed what inspired us to attend Columbia University in our C.A.R.E. orientation group which focuses on community service and engagement in New York City. I briefly mentioned my situation and named how attending an institution of this caliber would provide me with the necessary resources to accomplish my goals when it comes to the criminal justice system. This means that some of my classmates knew that my dad was incarcerated.
I could feel their eyes on me and my stomach dipped. But as we stepped inside, I saw the booth set up for the Center for Justice at Columbia University. While I knew my school would be supportive of the reform for criminal justice, seeing the blue and white banners there brought me a sense of relief. It brought me back to reality and to the facts. The institution I belong to was showing up for the community and is continuing to do so. So if people wanted to press me, to ask my narrative, I have a duty to speak and to advocate for the children left behind in the criminal justice system.
Motivation fluctuates. Sometimes one thing will come along and knock the motivation from your body like the air when you land on your back off a trampoline. Sometimes it leaks out like the hiss of a balloon. Other times, like a wave of cool water, it wakes you up. Eyes fluttering, shallow inhales, you remember why it is you are here. This play did that for me. It can be hard writing when it feels like no one is reading, it can be hard to wake up when it feels like you do not hear good morning anymore, it can be hard to smile when no one smiles back. But in a struggle which feels meaningless, by choosing to keep fighting you are making it meaningful.
For me, I really have not had the opportunity to look at incarceration first hand in larger cities as I come from a relatively small town and this play happened to be the first one I saw in New York and also the intro to incarceration in the city.
About the play itself…
I recently had the opportunity to attend a one man show written and produced by Byronn Bain and directed by Gina Belafonte called “Lyrics from Lockdown.” It was an amazing show about Byronn’s experience after being falsely imprisoned and arrested for crimes he did not commit and weaved in another instance of wrongful imprisonment with a seventeen year old choir boy who was sentenced to death row in Texas. Byronn married together live music, poetry, rap, blissful comedy and hip-hop to masterfully tell a story of mass incarceration in the United States.
This play incorporated 40 voices and was developed during a series of workshops and courses which took place around the country for around a decade from 2001. These workshops were a part of the Blackout Arts Collective’s art-based, political action campaign according to the play bill.
It was performed at the historic Apollo theater on August 29th of this year, a short 17 minute walk from Columbia University’s campus and I, as an incoming freshman at the University, made the walk with over 1,500 other students to watch the production. The play was co-sponsored by Columbia University’s Office of Alumni Affairs and Office of the Dean of Students and Art for Justice Fund and included a panel discussion after the performance.