San Quentin Inmates Find Escape in Yoga Rehab Class

In a portable classroom behind a set of bleachers lined with inmates cheering for the San Quentin Giants, James Fox speaks in a hushed, soothing voice to a group of 10 "lifers" in his weekly hatha yoga class.

"Close your eyes, and free your mind of thought," Fox tells his students amid the din of the prison baseball game outside.

Sitting cross-legged with the word "PRISONER" printed on the side of his denim pants, Keith Augustine starts to make his escape.

"I practice my meditation every day, even if it's just sitting in the cell -- peace and quiet time," Augustine said. "Block out all the surroundings around you."

The ruckus from the baseball game doesn't stop even after the bottom of the ninth. "This is a madhouse," Augustine said.

But when he practices yoga postures and breathing techniques in the 4-by-9-foot cell that he shares with another prisoner, Augustine is able to hit an inner "mute" button.

The 46-year-old has spent 10 years at San Quentin State Prison. Like the others in the class, Augustine is part of the prison's "North Block," housing life inmates.

Augustine is serving time for a second-degree murder conviction and has been taking the "lifer" yoga class for several years.

The class is one of three offered at San Quentin, with a fourth starting later this month, said Fox, who has been teaching the class since 2002.

As one of the programs run by the nonprofit Insight Prison Project, the hatha yoga class is part of a restorative justice approach designed to rehabilitate prisoners and teach them life skills necessary to create lasting change. The San Rafael organization, funded solely by private donations and grants from foundations, started in 1997 as an attempt reduce California's recidivism rate.

Two out of three felons released between July 2005 and June 2006
returned to prison within three years, said Terry Thornton, spokeswoman for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

Although no studies have been conducted to prove the recidivism rate is lower for those involved in one of the more than 70 programs at San Quentin, prison spokesman Lt. Sam Robinson said he thinks the programs make a difference.

"If you look through a microscope at the individuals who are involved with programming here, who ultimately get an opportunity to get out, I think you have a much different return rate," Robinson said. "I'm almost positive it's much lower."

Many rehabilitation programs are focused on cognitive behavior, but the hatha yoga class involves looking at the whole person, Fox said.

"Most people are disconnected from their emotional selves. They don't understand their emotions and can't express themselves in a skillful way," he said. "That causes harm."

Yoga teaches people how to form deeper relationships with themselves, as well as the mindfulness to be more self-aware, and the ability to interrupt the kinds of unconscious reactions leading to problems, Fox said.

"Prison is like a landmine," said Benjamin Ballard, who has been at San Quentin for 18 years and is serving a sentence for second-degree murder. "You never know if the guy is a little bit upset or his mother just died."

Ballard, 52, practiced yoga on his own before enrolling in the hatha yoga class at San Quentin seven years ago. The book, "Light on Yoga" by B.K.S. Iyengar taught him the poses, but left him struggling with his feelings.

"I was pretty emotional and I had a lot of triggers," he said.

As a student in Fox's class, Ballard said he learned to control
his reactions.

"It seems like I have a pause button. Whenever I'm in like a confrontational situation, I can just ... slow everything down for a minute
.. check in with myself," he said. "And then I can make a determination with how I may or may not want to respond."

During an impromptu security check, Ballard remembered warning his former cellmate, an addict who smuggled drugs into the prison, the "goon
squad" was coming, he said.

The cellmate lunged on top of Ballard and started to attack him.

"In that split second that I realized what was happening, I made a conscious decision that I was not going to harm that person. No matter what he does," he said.

He realized his cellmate's mind was not right, Ballard said.

"I had compassion for him, even though he was attacking me. I didn't want him to be hurt," he said. "I actually felt sorry for him."