buddha paper

“Never before had I attempted to become a participant in any meditation—especially not for ten days of total silence. Before entering the course, I could barely put up with anybody else’s attitude different form mines. To get my point across in my ill attempts for a solution if words couldn’t find peace, I’d force fights. Vipassana has provided me with the tool to endure a whole lot and then some. I can now talk to the worse of attitudes and still keep my composure—I can now be human to myself and others. I’m not cured of my lack of knowledge but this experience has allowed me room to grow and to respect my growth. [… ]The changes within me I witness daily in my dealings with others and myself. And they’re appreciated deeply—the difference Vipassana made was life instead of death to a dying man.”
Willie Carroll had been incarcerated for twenty-eight years when he decided to sign up for the ten-day Vipassana meditation retreat offered at Donaldson Correctional Facility outside of Birmingham, Alabama in 2002. He along with nineteen other inmates volunteered to test out this new method of treatment that was being offered to them. The overall effect was immensely positive and ten-day Vipassana meditation retreats soon became a new tradition at Donaldson—a new tradition originating from one of the oldest traditions in the world. Buddhism has found its way into the prisons of America because American Buddhists have come to realize that the way the prisons are run in America is not conducive to reforming or benefitting the lives of both prisoners and those who care about them. The teachings of Buddhism, on the other hand, have been known to help Americans cope with stressful situations, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized that these same techniques might be helpful in a prison environment as well.
Although Buddhism has only been present in the prisons of America for the last fifty years, Buddhism has a much older history in dealing with criminals. The first mention of Buddhist teachings benefitting a criminal actually date back to the times of Siddhartha Gautama himself. The villain Angulimala was on a mission to collect one thousand fingers and turn them into a necklace. His mission was almost complete and as he headed out to find and kill his own mother, he came across a lone traveler. As he started chasing the man, he found it impossible to catch up with him. Finally, he shouted “Stop!” and the man did. This action alone caught Angulimala off guard, but it wasn’t until the Buddha said, “I have stopped, Angulimala, you stop too.” that Angulimala broke down and vowed to end his evildoings. This story comes from the part of the Pali scriptures known as the Middle Length Sayings. One of the most important lessons to take from this story is to never exclude anyone from the sangha. Criminals must be given a chance to turn their life around and join the community.
Throughout the history of Buddhism, there have been numerous other accounts of reforming criminals with compassion and forgiveness instead of through punishment and imprisonment. It actually seems to be a theme in Buddhist history that some of the most enlightened figures in the history of Buddhism including Mahakala and Milarepa are those who are converted criminals. The Buddha believed that poverty is a cause of crime so to end crime, remove the cause. The Indian Buddhist philosopher, Nagarjuna agreed with him insisting that individual punishment does no good if the cause isn’t being treated as well. He believed that it is up to society to create “a compassionate social welfare system to keep people form being driven to crimes of desperation; a reasonable well-educated, virtuous and experience justice system and the abolition for capital punishment as the taking of one life should be followed by taking another.”
Although Nagarjuna offers a solution to crime through societal changes, Ashvagosha was the first to suggest a more personal route, in the form of mindfulness meditation. Shantideva from the eighth century suggests that anger is the most destructive force, implying that if anger is decreased, crime will be as well. According to Parkum and Stultz, in the Shin tradition, “crime was understood to be the result of the three poisons (delusion, hatred, and greed) manifested in social malaise. From an absolute view, criminals were no worse than anyone else blinded by delusion, hatred and greed.” This view can really serve to bridge the gap between those on the inside and those who live “freely.” We are all suffering from the same poison—those who are incarcerated are simply those who need more help in learning to resisting that poison.
Currently, all the forms of Buddhism that exist in America today have a presence in American prisons. But it all started with just one man. After being detained in Japan against his will during World War 2, Reverend Hogen Fujimoto was finally allowed to return to America and continue his work with The Buddhist Church of America in San Francisco. Working alone, he taught courses at local prisons as well as corresponded with inmates seeking spiritual guidance around the country. Most of the inmates he assisted were not Buddhists, nor were they Asian—they found an interest in Buddhism from prison and sought help through phonebooks and directories.
Shortly thereafter, Bo Lozoff and his wife Sita began working with the prison system in the early 1970s, by founding the Prison Ashram Project. Their work included providing workshops, educational materials and videocassettes and tapes to prisoners nationwide. When Bo first entered this line of work, he was surprised by the amount of immediate interest he found from the inmates. He found that a lot of prisoners were turned off from their birth religions, and desired something less “religious” and more spiritual and practical. They sought a religion that didn’t deal with sin or ask them to repent. What they needed was a faith that could help them to cope with their circumstance—something that could help them manage their feelings of anger, resentment, guilt and shame.
Twenty-five percent of the world’s prisoners are American, yet America only holds 5% of the world’s population. Part of the reason for this is because of stricter arrest and imprisonment laws in America, and the high rate of returning inmates. Oftentimes, recovery is not a high priority in prisons, but Bo believes that “the great recovery” can be achieved through self motivation. His recovery involves a combination of meditation, ethical behavior and compassion for all neighbors. These can all be achieved by a conscious effort from the individual. Bo believes that if the prison environment is violent, then prisoners are going to leave prison at least as violent as the environment from which they are emerging. But this may not be a bad place to start. Bo writes, “terrible environments can spur dramatic spiritual work and breakthroughs.” Bo believes that prisoners may be more receptive to the teachings of Buddhism than other “free” individuals because their desperate situation leads to the motivation it takes to really open up the spiritual life.
Lozoff believes that a lot of change must be done in the prison systems, but it may be the most practical to work from the bottom up. He believes that by changing the attitude of the individuals, the entire environment of the prison will improve as well. Currently, half of the employees of the Prison Ashram Project are former inmates, giving testament to the hard work the Lozoff’s have done improving the lives of inmates all over the country. He is well on his way—Lozoff’s current mailing list includes over 30,000 inmates.
Inspired by the Lozoffs’s pioneering efforts, many other groups from all the major Buddhist traditions have formed nationwide to provide services to inmates interested in Buddhism. Books and other education materials have been written specifically for the purpose of teaching inmates about Buddhism if no workshops or teachers are available to them. Others have been written for the purpose of educating Buddhists who wish to volunteer or work in prisons. Kobai Scott Whitney has done both in his book, Sitting Inside. This book includes the basics of Buddhism, a guideline for prison meditation as well as a guideline for volunteers. Unlike many of the cases in this paper, Whitney was actually a Buddhist before he went to prison, but it wasn’t until he got to prison that he first felt like he realized what it meant to be a Buddhist. After emerging from a six-month sentence, he realized that being free was not always dependent on whether one was locked behind bars or not.
Although this opinion varies among practices, Whitney believes that the parts of Buddhism that lie beyond sitting meditation are vital in their application to the prison environment. Whitney believes that what he lacked as a Buddhist before he went to prison was a commitment to Buddhist practice all the time—whether he was on the zafu or off of it.
Whitney describes the process of getting arrested, tried and sentenced as enough to warrant therapy, and since that is often not available to prisoners, especially in their first few days getting accustomed to prison life, meditation can serve as a way to gain perspective and control over the situation. After feeling completely helpless, meditation can give one a sense of control of his or her own existence:
When someone is alone with her or his own mind, that mind’s unruly nature starts to show itself. Sometimes the mind can act as a generator of negative and destructive thoughts. Prisoners facing this challenge have two choices. They can plunge into distraction- such as gossip, the underground prison economy, television, drugs, and card-games or they can make another choice- to face the mind directly and befriend it. Facing, accepting, and learning to love and forgive one’s own mind is the essence of meditation. Being left alone with a chattering, chaotic mind may be one reason inmates are increasingly attracted to meditation—which at its core, is a practice that can tame and calm the mind and educate the emotions (Whitney, 22).
He warns, though that meditation comes with the cost of facing the inner demons of the mind. It takes strength, discipline and persistence for meditation to become effective.
Another reason Whitney believes Buddhism can be beneficial to the prisoner is because it is a religion that focuses more on the individual experience than a strict system of beliefs: “Prisoners often view themselves as outlaws or rebels, and part of that rebellion may be against the excessive moralisms or promotion of illogical beliefs they saw in the religions of their childhoods. There is no God to rebel against in Buddhism and no hierarchy to submit to” (Whitney, 22). The United States of America was founded on the morals and foundations of Christianity; since it was the morals of America that put the prisoner behind bars, it’s not surprising that her or she might be weary of turning toward that same religion to find peace. Buddhism has the appeal of a new, foreign, exotic, unfamiliar system. Also, unlike many other religions that focus on sin and salvation, Buddhism is about liberation from suffering which may attribute to its appeal in the prison environment where surely a lot of suffering is endured. Also, while many other religions give laypeople a lot to believe in but not much to do, Buddhism is the opposite. There is no blind faith involved—the logical precepts can be seen as a form of self-therapy; an instruction manual towards improving one’s quality of life.
Whitney believes that an incoming prisoner will be faced with a lot of overwhelming feelings, as well as distractions both inside and out of his or her own mind:
The newly arrived inmate experiences an involuntary renunciation of the toys of everyday life. […] So the newly entering prisoner is in a kind of shock—left alone with her or his own thoughts. […] Most people, whether they are inmates or not, try to keep their attention outside their head through activities and external distractions, so an end to these distractions can be a severe shock. Thus, outer-directed noise, aggression, or interpersonal manipulation often becomes the activities of the newly imprisoned person. (Whitney, 41)
Whitney believes meditation may be the perfect strategy to help cope with the fear of the interior, and resolve the urge to become violent and aggressive. Overall, Whitney believes that meditation will provide relief to the inmate who will soon realize that the unity of all selves trumps the individual self. Meditation will also allow inmates the chance to realize the impermanence of all life, as well as the impermanence of their own moods and thoughts. This should help prevent anger and frustration from turning into aggression, which would undoubtedly be beneficial to the entire prison community.
Although it would be best if Buddhist practice within prison could replicate practice that happens outside, this is not always possible due to a variety of reasons. In fact, in its early beginnings, Buddhist practice of any kind was considered punishment-worthy, until one brave inmate, Fred A. Cruz sued the state for impeding on his right to practice religion established by the Constitution. Cruz v. Beto went all the way to the Supreme Court, and in 1977 it was decided that the First Amendment applies to prisoners, and therefore any inmate who wished to receive materials about Buddhism had the right to do so. Throughout the following thirty years, there have been other cases brought to trial resulting in an unstable power struggle between the chaplains and certain prison administrators. Even though Buddhist prisoners are granted rights, they might not be equivalent to the rights given to their Christian counterparts. Some prisons remain weary of anything non-Christian, and out of ignorance have viewed Buddhism as a cult.
In an effort to assist the equality of Buddhist rights behind bars, Kobutso Malone wrote The Prison Chaplaincy Guidelines for Zen Buddhism: a source book for prison chaplains, administrators and security personnel. This short book makes an effort to bridge the gap of understanding among all involved. Also, the book provides enough background on Buddhism to both protect prisoner’s rights to practice their religion, as well as educate security guards so that any prisoner who might be abusing these rights can be stopped. For example, the book clarifies the fact that one cannot be ordained over the phone: “Any claim of ordination on the part of the prisoner should be verified with multiple ecclesiastical authorities. Ordination is never given over the telephone or through correspondence.” The book serves to justify what is vital to the practice of Zen Buddhism, so that security guards are not suspicious of unfamiliar items or activities. For example, the guidebook explains that a cushion (zafu) and mat (zabuton) are the two most important items a prisoner needs to meditate. A shrine, beads, amulets, medals, books, and special garments may also be necessary for an inmate to feel that he or she is practicing his or her religion to the fullest extent. At times, a prisoner may need to meet one-on-one with a Zen teacher, and they may have to make physical contact. The book advises that the room in which zazen sessions are held should be dimly lit because that is most conducive to the practice. In some prisons, the rules might limit an individual to possessing only one religious book, but that’s not possible for a Zen Buddhist because Buddhism doesn’t use just one book, in the way Christians use the Bible. The book also offers a suggested daily schedule for a Buddhist inmate (advising that private meditation in a prisoner’s cell is generally best done in the early morning and evening) and gives a list of Buddhist holidays that prisoners may request to participate in.
There are currently no national guidelines specifically concerning Buddhist prisoners, and while some of the states have addressed these issues, the rights Buddhist inmates are given are often dependent on the attitudes of the administration and security personnel on a prison-to-prison basis. Outside of the administration’s attitude, the availability of Buddhist workshops and retreats usually depends on the availability of outside help, the prison’s donation policies and the persistence of the inmates who are interested.
Although it would be ideal for a prisoner to be able to have the same opportunities as would any other American, there are aspects of prison life that make this impossible. On the other hand, some of the characteristics of a prison may provide participants with opportunities that those who live in the “free world” would not have the opportunity to experience. For example, both Whitney and Lozoff suggest transforming prison into a monastery. Of course, this is not a perfect analogy, but some of the similarities can be used to the Buddhist inmate’s benefit. The removal from society, structured schedule, shared commodities and time spent alone are all things that the two have in common. One major difference is that a Buddhist who renounces their worldy possessions and attachments to loved ones and goes on retreat does so voluntarily, while an inmate is stripped of all of these things by force. But that doesn’t mean that inmate lacks the opportunity to take advantage of the “freedom” of detachment and turn his or her own experience into a retreat.
Another major difference in practice concerns the never-ending noise that is present in prison. The lack of privacy and the lack of silence are two torture devices present in prisons across the country. But this should not prevent a Buddhist inmate from meditating, claims Whitney. One can’t expect noise to disappear whenever he or she wants to meditate—that would be setting unrealistic expectations. In fact, Whitney sees it as an opportunity to improve meditative skills and use the noise as the “raw material of our sitting-still experience” (Whitney 42).
Walking meditation, a key aspect of Zen Buddhism that is usually done in a group, is another thing that often cannot be accomplished in prison. Outdoors, gangs may stake out territories of land, and inmates may feel embarrassed, threatened or self-conscious walking by. This may be frustrating because Thich Nhat Hanh recommends walking in times of anger because he believes walking meditation is one of the best ways to calm down and view anger objectively. He recommends walking to the beat of ones own breath if there is no group available to walk that could provide a steady rhythm.
This brings up another issue—the fear that comes along with adopting a set of behaviors so drastic than the norm of prison culture. Unlike the rest of America, which is full of supportive Buddhist communities, inmates who take up Buddhism must have the strength to rebel against the broken prison system of violence, deception, fear and mistrust. Committing to the 8-fold path is inherently a rebellious act in the context of a prison.