What's a pathway to freedom? Reading.

What is the most unhinged thing you sincerely believe? This is going to sound crazy, right? But I really believe that you find what you look for. Right now, we live in a world in which, like, grievance dominates. The evidence of being heard is punishment, grievance, and vengeance. The reason why I like this idea that you find what you look for is because you can look for joy. And you can look for to miss anything else that's happening. And it's quite unhinged because if you don't spend a lot of time with people who have young children, you would imagine that the world is ending through each generation when tomorrow looks doomed. The parents are looking for hope for their children and they find it. And so, that's unhinged belief, right? That they're like, you could find what you chase. While our country panics about literacy rates and attention spans, Reginald Dwayne Betts sees opportunity. As a poet, Dwayne is intimately aware of how language can expand our imaginations. But prior to his life as a poet, he was incarcerated at age 16 for an armed carjacking and was sentenced to nine years in prison, which included some time and solitary confinement, where books, the one thing that gave him a window into other worlds, were not allowed. This experience inspired him to create freedom reads, an organization that brings books into prisons, and creates physical libraries, also called freedom libraries, to help people dream beyond their immediate environments, and imagine lives with beauty, hope, and possibility. Today, Dwayne joins me to talk about how literature has informed his life's work, and what it means to find what you chase. Hello, hello. I'm Brittany Loose, and you're listening to it's been a minute from NPR, a show about what's going on in culture, and why it doesn't happen by accident. You've described books as a means of survival. Like, we can see how that was true for you. You've talked about that, you've written about that, but it's also an experience that is true for so many people who have lived lives very different from yours, very different from mine. You know, there's billions of people on this world who have had that experience in some way. What is it about books that help us survive? I think a colleague wrote me a letter, and then a letter, like, she didn't tell me anything about her life or her childhood, but she wrote about books being a source of a world that was missing. And I mean, I read the letter and it literally had me crime because it was, see, we often get confused. We imagine that the thing that connects us is like our skin color, our complex, our complexion, our culture, our profession, but it's not. It's the ability to be touched by a story. And I think that's just like the fundamental thing that that people who love books recognize. And it's the kind of promise you make to the book that the book may or may not fulfill. But it's this promise that if you give me your time and your attention, I will transform how you see a world in a life. I mean, a lot of media theorists have been speculating that we are moving toward a post-literate society. People are not reading as much anymore. Our attention spans, our shot. Children, younger people seem to be struggling with reading now more than they have in past generations. I mean, how do you encourage reading? How do you even think about encouraging reading when reading has kind of become pass A? But I see people reading all the time. Facebook is filled with words. And even when you go on Instagram, the captions are functioning as like many poems. I think people are saying that people aren't reading books and how do we combat that. And I understand that they're saying the books of soul, but you've got to recognize it. I think that we are running a risk of being post-talking to each other. You know, when our medium of conversation is just grievance and argument and complaint, my duty as a poet is to be able to give you a poem if you had the bus stop, if you had the liquor store, if you are an older woman that is volunteering for the no cool bike racing, and I stop and I read you a poem because I wrote a poem about riding a bike with my son. And so I kind of think that what we need is more zealous for literature. We need more people to say that this might actually transform what the world looks like. I mean, yeah, when you talk about transforming what the world looks like, one of the things that immediately comes to mind is the freedom libraries that you found it that are all over the country. For those who aren't familiar, can you explain what freedom libraries are and how you got the inspiration to start them? I mean, it does go back to books being a pathway to freedom for me because you know, every time I struggle to get a job or to be accepted in society because of my criminal record, I will go back to college and that would provide me with, you know, actual sustenance and intellectual sustenance because I would get student loans, I would get scholarships, and I would get space to build up credentials and kind of to build up a resume and a reputation that could compete with my criminal record. I was in a PhD in law program because I wanted to be a law professor and also because I couldn't afford rent in the local community and I could afford student housing and people say things like I'm a hustler and I am a survivor. You know, I knew that I could take care of my son's better being a PhD student and having my loans on forbearance while I was a student and being able to get a three-bedroom in student housing, then not to be able to afford the two-bedroom that I had in the community. But the truth is though, I'm also an artist and I kept coming up with ideas and dreams and so I felt like, you know, people don't read poetry as much as I want them to. What if I started to learn things about heart? What if I did a solo show with Theatapiece where it was just me on stage for 40 minutes? I convinced a foundation to support the project and doing a process of working on this show. I got six of my friends out of prison and all of those stories are interwoven in the creation of this show. But the thing was after that happened, some folks from the Melon Foundation asked me what would I do if money was an issue for people who were incarcerated. And it was the first time in my life actually when somebody asked me the dream about a world where I was unencumbered by my time in prison. Suddenly, I was asked to say what would I do for people in prison? Not what would I do for me or not, not what was the burden and the cost ratio and put them in my life. But what would I do for somebody else? And it's a very different question. I mean, it makes you a, you know, I mean, it makes you remember that part of the gift is when you secure enough and safe enough and healthy enough that you can actually contemplate what the answer to that question is. I mean, I understand. I mean, if you go to prison as a kid, man, like sometimes you're just trying to figure out how to deal with the next 20 minutes. And you don't even see a world where like, you could be useful. And so she asked me that. And I said, we put millions of people in prison. I would put millions of books in a prison. I mean, part of it was to imagine that prisons are too frequently invisible to the communities and people in prison are too frequently invisible to themselves. And I wanted to bring books and the shape of these beautiful handcrafted libraries. I mean, they made out of wood. They stand 44 inches high and about seven people could circle it so that it creates a location for community. I mean, prisons, you have some spaces of community basketball court, the waypile, but it's way more spaces of conflict. And you never like see, you know, wood in a prison, you never see, you know, old cherry, maple, walnut. And you never see things that are handcrafted. And we effectively have, you know, figured out how to create a manufacturing business, a furniture manufacturing business, and a logistical company that that navigates, you know, every, every state in this country. And actually, I'll, I'll, I'll, I'll deep and close collaborators all the department of corrections. So we've managed to do this without feeling like we have to lead with, with, with demonization. And we have to lead with animosity. And, and part of that is because there's eight people in my team who, who serves time in prison. And we all recognize that vis-a-vis the crimes that we were convicted of and that some of us committed, you know, we have lived as pariah, you know, we have lived as the people who most people society believe deserve condemnation. And so we're able to go in our work, whip the department of corrections in a really, really different way. And I think, um, be models of a, of a different kind of leadership from top to bottom within an organization. I wonder, I mean, a lot of people, I think they find it difficult, um, or impossible to return to a site that holds trauma for them. As I imagine, that prison holds trauma for you. And, and also probably some of the other people that you work with. But you've centered your life on around that now. Why? And, and how do you, how do you manage that? I literally once wrote this poem. And I was like, it doesn't matter what I do when I go home, because the people who need to see it most won't. And I was thinking about people in prison, because when I did my time, I did my time when Peter Clinton was, was talk about super predators. And so I know that, that I, I did I didn't do my time in a world where we're progressives and people in my community just thought that I shouldn't have went to prison as a 16-year-old. And for me, going back is just like, I don't know, maybe duty, you know? I don't feel bad. I think I go back and it's a duty. And I wasn't supposed to survive prison. So I think maybe in some ways going back is making peace with whatever deal I made with God or the devil with the crossroads. I didn't make a deal with the devil, though, 'cause I gotta tell you, if I made a deal with the devil, I would, this would be so much easier. See, God is on some joby in business, you know what I mean? And that's why I know my deal has always been with God because he was like, brother, I'm gonna tell you something. You're gonna have some bad years, but then you're gonna have some bounty, too. And when you get some bounty, you better know it ain't just for you. Mm, mm, mm. I wonder what's been the most like, profound or surprising experience that you have had with the Freedom Libraries? Even just seeing other people get joy out of it or experience it or have a strong reaction to it, whatever that is. Really it's too plenty for me. We get letters. I mean, something stuff is just deeply, deeply moving. I mean, like, it was this cat and a, and Rikas named Ralphiel, who was a carpenter, who sort of freedom library and went to help just because what he saw was so beautiful. 'Cause he was from a family of conferences from the Dominican Republic. He asked how could he help? And he said that, you know, he had a military veteran. And so in his letter, you got a child of immigrants that is a citizen, that is a military veteran and a carpenter to talk about how we changed the shape of his day because of the beauty that we brought to Rikas. We did a program in a Missouri prison and we get a letter back and it's $1,000 in a letter. And the guy says, man, I'm doing life in prison and I have never felt this free. And so I want you to have all the money I have to my name. We got a letter from a woman in California when we first opened up the freedom library. And she says, look, I come here and I see this beautiful wood and I wonder what's going on and I walk down the steps in this books and they brand new and they smell new. And she says, I'm enjoying the books and then I see a woman and I had conflict with for weeks. And then she smiled and I smiled and attention disappeared. I mean, like the number of letters that we got, we got letters from people's mothers talking about, they hadn't heard that much late in their kids voice since they had been locked up. And I think about my own kids and I recognize that one of the things that they have and they've always had is access to literature and access to stories. And maybe a baseline with the freedom libraries taught me is that we bring it back into the prisons. And none of us want to be in prison. Of course not, yeah. But you know, we go in and argue that we deserve to live in the world where people would do the things that we do for us. And we recognize all of this house where we weren't there in Capable and didn't have people showing up and doing this for us. You know, my God talking about Reed and Heavy and getting to the last page and it was gone and he was devastated because he couldn't find out how to book it. And I said, listen, man, you should get D.A. Salamon to you and him to have a conversation about what it means to pick up his book and not be able to read the last page. 'Cause see, I thought his book mattered. So freedom really got 1,000 copies of his book and put it in prisons all across the country. - We're gonna take a quick break. But first, if you're a long time listener or brand new to it's been a minute, be sure to come back every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday for brand new episodes. And did you know you can make it even easier to get new episodes by hitting the follow or subscribe button on your favorite podcast app? Whether you're a new friend or a loyal bestie, join the team by subscribing today. Coming up after the break. - I used to think I would die at 50. A friend told me that her husband had turned 75 over a weekend. I thought, man, I can't wait. - Stick around. - I also wanna talk about the inside literary prize. I mean, that I find to be such an interesting way to engage authors, just readers in general. And also the readers that you serve with the freedom libraries who are people in prison. So yeah, talk to us about the inside literary prize. - So it was on, France has a book prize that's judged by people in prison. It's one of the biggest prizes in the country. And so when the New York Times reported on it several years ago, people kept reaching out to me saying, freedom reached to do that. And we got some collaborators, the National Book Foundation, the Center for Court Innovation, a librarian named Laurie Fellas, they reached out to me and we became a team to put this together. And the thing is we choose six states or territories, a men's prison and a women's prison in each state. And 25 judges at each local house or 300 judges total. They read five books. They all engage with the books independently. People in the cell blocks read the books through who not even in program because they get engaged with the books. We always bring it right in so that they have a three hour conversation that they do rank or the vote. But then we bring it right in and they have an event where they write an author event. But what's been really amazing is that people get to be seen as like citizens, to judges to be valued. - Well, the judges to be revered also. - Yeah, you know what I mean? And we also, my folks who never get a chance to judge. We have been judged, you know? And so to be judged, it's sometimes to be revived. But to be able to judge for something that matters. But man, also, you just hear him talking about the books. I heard a judge talking about a book from last year's contest, "Changing All Styles 1." But this guy had voted for one woman's madness. And he said, "I really felt that book. I felt how she was challenged and a lot of ideas around the patriarchy and the way men treat women in society." And I appreciated that because I had heard the ideas, but, you know, reading it in a novel. I stopped myself cold. I was like, his brother sounds like a professor. And it was him being able to engage in an inside literary prize that allowed him to fill the community on the inside. They get to be seen as readers, as thinkers, as scholars. I started a book club for boys called Young Men Read. And that ended up getting me on the front page of the Washington Post. And that was the first thing that got me noticed by anybody. But I just started a book club because a friend challenged me and said, "What are you doing to help Young Men read?" And I thought, "I should build this thing." And then Freedom Read was the same situation. Somebody challenged me to say, "What would I do for others?" And so I've been really blessed to have my greatest opportunities come when I was able to shift my gaze from my personal woes to what my gifts might mean to others. - Is this an incredible reframe? - I'm getting old. When I was young, I'd never say things like this. - No, but I mean, I was gonna send me such an incredible reframe that kinda only comes with time and wisdom, you know? But I also wonder too. I mean, recently, there was a documentary about your life called March 4th, and it premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival earlier this year. I mean, I got to see it, it's great. You, it's great, it's great. And like, I don't know, you've written and spoken about yourself and your life extensively. And, you know, as you're saying, you are having these reflections now that maybe you didn't even have 10 to 15 years ago. But I imagine it's still much different to see your life narrativeized on screen. Like, what has senior story on screen changed about how you understand, not just the work that you're doing, but how you understand yourself? - I mean, I think it was more so seeing it with my sons in a room, because when somebody does a film about you, you are watching yourself being watched in moments that you weren't aware of being watched. And this is whether I'm railing against the machine with a broken hand or I'm smoking weed. It's just like the film captured me in moments that weren't just vulnerable. It was in moments in which that filter that you have in your brain from how you see yourself and how you want the world to see you completely vanished. And, and I think for me, because the film was done during this time period in which I got divorced, I discovered that I'm manic impressive. I got bipolar too and I had bad ADHD. And these things happen to somebody who went to prison at 16, came home at 24 and got in a committed and a long-lasting relationship with a woman. She was like 21, I'm 24. That's my first relationship, then we get married. And so, you know, the breaking that happened and the us selling that happened happening constantly with my brain being rewired, right? It was hard. And a film was happening during that time period and Freedom Reads was growing. And we was raising additional $5 million, $10 million, going from one freedom library to eight freedom libraries, to 50, to 80, to 90, to 120. And I would just say watching the story on film made me feel in some ways more disconnected from my life than I'd ever been, you know, because I'm-- - Really? - Yeah, because, you know, I have been forced to move fast, and I do feel like I'm a man who's had to invent his life, you know? So often that I look at it on screen and I recognize that if I were to pause to ask myself about the feasibility of whatever the next step was, I'm like one of those goats that climb the mountain. They make these impossible, you know, leaps and jumps and they climb in these mountains. I'm like one of those goats, you know, to go forget that it's not. he's donny impossible, he becomes ego fool. And I feel like watching what was going on is this moment when I just realized that this could easily not have happened and I ended up feeling profoundly grateful. But this is a lot. After my sons watched it, they were both happy that they did. And they had questions, but that questions weren't, why are you like this or anything like that? Which is a beautiful thing to have your children see you portrayed on the screen like that? And walk away loving you and asking the kind of questions that showed that they paid attention like, hey, why were you in solitary confinement? You didn't explain it that well. [LAUGHTER] No. You've had this journey, obviously, it's still ongoing. More than, I think, probably most people, you've had the opportunity to really think critically about where you've been and how it made you feel and how it's affected your life and the lives of the people around you. And then also share that with other people. I mean, but you share, considerable about and reconsider. We consider your life, your journey, your purpose. Even the way you frame it is like thinking about what you need, having someone ask you, what would you do if you had unlimited resources to be able to help others? There's these big questions that show up that kind of nudged you toward what you should be doing or what's the right, the next thing. I wonder, when will you know that your work is done? I mean, it's interesting because I used to think I would die at 50. A friend told me that her husband had turned 75 over the weekend. And I thought, man, I can't wait. And to me, the desire to imagine that as a possibility is it was the first order accomplishment. I mean, that was the work. Actually, you know what I mean? The work was the belief that my life was valuable enough to last long enough to see my children grow old. And you have to understand that when people who live their life, what they have never had that deep a sense of like loathing and worthlessness, then it seems radically incapable of being true, except let us just tell you, tells you that that's not the case. Dwayne, do you have given me so much to think about today? I can't tell you how much I appreciate this conversation and also appreciate the work that you've been doing. Thank you so much for coming to talk with us about today. Thank you so much. That was Poet, Lawyer, and the founder and CEO of Freedom Reads, Reginald Dwayne Vets. This episode of It's Been a Minute was produced by Alexis Williams. This episode was edited by Nina Patut. Our supervising producer is-- Sheriff and Smith. Our executive producer is-- Barton Gurdwood. Our VP of programming is Yolanda Sanguini. All right, that's all for this episode of It's Been a Minute from NPR. I'm Brittany Luce. Talk soon.