Salzman - True notebooks: a writers year at juvenile hall

Table of Contents

... we would assume that what it was we meant would have been listed in some book set down beyond the skys far reaches, if at all there was a purpose here. But now I think the purpose lives in us and that we fall into an error if we do not keep our own true notebook of the way we came, how the sleet stung, or how a wandering bird cried at the window...

LOREN EISELEY

ACCLAIM FOR MARK SALZMANS True Notebooks

True Notebooks is powerful reading.... A poignant story about the power of putting words to paper.... What spills forth is often telling, touching and hilarious. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

A wonderful, generous and eye-opening account of youth who are rarely heard from... very moving, important, and often laugh-aloud funny. San Jose Mercury News

[Salzman] scores his book with sharps and flats, and manages to bring each person into full relief.... Memorable.... An exploration of the redemptive power of writing. The New York Times Book Review

I devoured this book. Its not only the notebooks of juvenile offenders that are true (and insightful and poignant and funny) but the account of the odyssey of their writing teacher as well. Its all soft underbelly in these pages, human beings at their best against great odds, searching for redemption. Sister Helen Prejean, CSJ, author of Dead Man Walking

Salzman never falls prey to preaching and moralizing about wayward teens; he keeps the focus on the students poems, essays, raps and conversations. The Washington Post

There is a clarity to Mark Salzmans writing, a lack of artifice that suggests a writer more interested in telling his story than in dazzling the reader with his words. And theres an unflinching honesty in this account of his stint teaching writing to young inmates in juvenile hall. Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Salzman never falters.... True Notebooks is more about the value of writing and Salzmans passion for teaching than it is a political statement about how societyand prisonwrecks lives. The Boston Phoenix

Strikingly candid... darkly illuminatingand heart-breaking. The dilemmas of humane intervention undertaken under these most extreme circumstances are unflinchingly, indelibly, presented. Norman Rush, author of Mating and Mortals

This book will leave you heartbroken. People

Compelling from page one because Mark Salzman figured out a way to build a gripping, morally ambiguous story from what would seem unpromising raw material. The Denver Post

1 / Somebody

Mr. Jenkins unlocked the bolt and pushed the steel-frame door to K/L unit open with his shoulder.

Look whos back. Nice trip?

Very nice. I had just returned from my sisters wedding in Connecticut. Did we lose anybody while I was gone?

Paulinos in the Box, but hell be back.

Hey Mark! Whassup?

Three of the boys in my juvenile hall writing class were already in the library, their folders and notepads spread out on the table. Toa, a seventeen-year-old Samoan with a linebackers build, stepped forward and gave me a hug. So you bring us any maple syrup, or what? he asked.

Maple syrup?

I know bout that cause a watchin Mr. Rogers when I was a kid.

Raashads eyes opened wide. You seen that show too?

Every kid seen that show, fool. Nothin else to do in the mornin cept break toys an shit.

Yeah, I was always like, where that neighborhood at? Nobody got drunk or beat his ass or nothin.

Yeah, Toa said, but check it out: that show be fake. Know how I figured it out? People always be walkin in and outta his door and he never locked it. Heda had all his shit jacked if it was real.

Yeah! Homies be like, Its a beautiful day in the neighborhood now gimme that train set, fool.

So how was your sisters wedding? Antonio asked me as I handed out pencils.

Beautiful. Perfect weather, too.

Any fights break out? Toa asked.

At the wedding?

Nah, at the reception.

No, no fights. Where are the rest of the guys?

The chapel. They got some kinda meditation retreat over there this morning. Could you gimme another pencil, Mark? This one dont got no eraser.

Toa frowned. Cause you bit it off, fool. I just seen you.

I didnt bite nothin off. It was already gone, I was just chewin on the metal part.

I went to that meditation thing once, Antonio said. I went cause I heard the instructor was this hot female, but then I got there and it was some bald guy in a robe playin a harmonica. Fuck that.

Raashad checked the eraser on his new pencil, then said, Yeah, you supposta close your eyes an picture yourself goin down some stairs into your workshop in the cellar where you got all yo tools.

Your tools?

Yeah, tools for life. Raashad rolled his eyes. You supposta choose what tools you need and put em on your belt, like you some kinda superhero. First of all, I say to myself: What nigga you know got a workshop? What nigga you know got a cellar? Right off I knew this shit aint for me.

We joked around for a while, talked about a former class member who had just been sentenced to fifty years to life, then the boys settled down to write. After forty minutes, when they had all written something, I asked who would like to read aloud first.

Let Carter start, Antonio said. Although I addressed them by their first names, the boys followed the example of the staff and referred to each other by last name only. Carter got some good news last week.

Raashad nodded, propped his notepad on one knee, and read:

At about 2:33 a.m. the night staff came to my door andunlocked it. The sound of the key turning woke me upimmediately, that sound always wakes me up alarmingly.The staff said, Hey Carter, get up. I said, Man what thehell. He said telephone. The first thing I thought was itwas the police telling me someone in my family was dead.As Im walking to the phone my heart was beating extremely hard like if you could see it beating through myshirt. When I picked up the phone I was relaxed by thesweet soothing sound of my companion and fiance Amikatelling me she just gave birth to a little girl. The feelinginside me was indescribable. It was amazing, she said sheweighed in at 8 lbs 4 oz. I felt so happy my body feltso numb. I was astounded by the information I had justreceived. I feel so great. Ever since that day Ive been happyand just waiting to see her. I heard her giggle on the phonethe feeling was great. I cant wait until the day when I canhold my daughter.

Congratulations, I said.

He half smiled. Im pretty excited about it. I just pray to God I win my case so I can get out soon.

Toa volunteered to read next, promising to take everyones mind away from prison and back to the freedom of the outs.

My family weddings are cool and all but my family cantget along. During the wedding its cool and all but theparty thats after it aint nothin nice. Its like warfare. Assoon as they down a few cases everybody all of a suddenfeels like Superman. For example my cuzzins wedding wasbeautiful, everythings going smooth, even the party untilmy brothers showed up. Apparently my brother had shot