As Tuesdays go, this one might be unusual, says Nicole Hellthaler ’14 (CLAS). She offers that gentle disclaimer, though, not because we’re walking into the county jail in Little Rock, Arkansas, and not because she’s about to lead a clutch of incarcerated men to an unbound plane of stillness and calm.
It’s because today’s yoga session — offered by the global nonprofit she leads, Prison Yoga Project — marks a return to the jail after a few weeks’ yuletide hiatus. Six days into the new year, Hellthaler is thinking about emotional bruises that might linger from the holidays. She’s wondering how the men are adjusting to the return to routine. Some will be joining her class today for the first time, as much of a question mark to her as she — and maybe yoga itself — is to them.
At a raised security station that still wears a wreath, we surrender IDs, lock up everything that’s not a yoga mat — except my pens, notebook, and voice recorder — and pass through metal detection.
After going up in an elevator and down a long series of hallways, we’re let into the outer entrance of a compact two-story housing unit. Hellthaler chirps a good morning to one of the guards in the security roost, and he sends us through a gate into the unit, where the walls stand in a wide V-shape with a staircase down the middle.
Instantly, a few dozen heads turn, and their eyes seem to lock on to us. Hellthaler, 33, looks at ease under the scrutiny, a sunbeam in loose black workout clothes and color-splashed, guitar-pick-shaped earrings. Trailing behind, I probably look like the shadow of her composure, a bit overwhelmed and sporting a nervous smile.
