Liberal Arts in Prison

Miles away from the distinguished halls of Grinnell College — behind drab prison walls and electronic gates — an unlikely cohort of students takes Grinnell courses.

Since 2009, dozens of incarcerated students have experienced Grinnell College without ever setting foot on campus — through the First Year of College Program, a highly selective, intensive program that offers students the chance to earn up to 60 credits. Taught by storied Grinnell professors, incarcerated students have taken a range of courses from neuroscience to economics to classics.

The prison program receives funding from the College and also relies on support from alumni, parents, and friends. It operates at a time of burgeoning U.S. incarceration rates. Advocates agree the program exemplifies Grinnell’s twin commitments to social justice and liberal arts education.

“Grinnell College is committed to providing excellent liberal arts education to exceptional students,” says Emily Guenther ’07, program director, who spearheaded the effort to offer college courses to inmates. “Our incarcerated students are extremely talented and dedicated to learning. Their commitment to education rededicates all of us to teaching and learning. This program affirms the value of the liberal arts for everyone who participates.”

College-in-prison programs like Grinnell’s have a demonstrated impact on recidivism rates. According to a report from RAND Corp., a global research organization that develops solutions to public policy challenges, inmates who participate in correctional education programs had a 43 percent lower chance of returning to prison than those who did not.

None of the alumni of Grinnell’s First Year of College Program have returned to prison.

“If every person had the opportunity to attend a program like this,” says Michael Cosby, a former inmate at the Newton Correctional Facility, “I don’t believe there would be so many prisons.”

The former drug dealer and gang member is now a welder and community activist; he earned 23 college credits in the Grinnell program. He says his Grinnell education opened up a world of art, poetry, music, and math.

“It gave me an appreciation for the way the other half lives — that there is another half,” says Cosby, who was released from Newton in 2012. “That you chose to be on this side of the tracks. It was an awakening.”

The inmates’ hunger for knowledge outpaces most students, volunteers say.  More than 50 on-campus students volunteer as instructors, coordinators, and tutors in the not-for-credit program.

“This is social activism, Grinnell culture, and generosity at work,” says Cody Combs ’15, a fourth-year program volunteer.

Last fall, more than 100 students attended volunteer information sessions Guenther held on campus. She had to turn away nearly half the students. Inside the prisons, inmates buzzed about the program. Only one-third of those who apply to the college program are accepted. Applicants write an essay and go through an interview with professors to gain admission. If they don’t make the cut, the inmates often study and try again. Many take student-taught classes in order to prepare. One in 10 men at the Newton prison participates in some Grinnell programming. About 15 men enroll in the First Year of College Program each semester.

Grinnell Inside 

Courses taught inside the prisons are the same as those taught on Grinnell’s campus, with a few minor workarounds. College library staff developed a program that made the College catalog available to inmates who lack access to the Internet. Ten decommissioned computers were donated to the program for students and prison staff.

George Drake ’56, professor emeritus of history, has taught three courses at Newton since 2009, Basic Issues in European History; Making History: From Europe to America; and Justice, Liberation, Crisis, and Leadership. Faculty who teach incarcerated students “don’t compromise” their standards and find the experience “intensely valuable,” he says.

“That speaks volumes about these guys and this program,” Drake told alumni and friends who gathered to learn about the program last fall in Des Moines, Iowa.

“The commitment they have to learning is intense,” Drake says. “And, it’s not easy for them. They all have jobs.”

All inmates are required to work at least part-time in prison, and many work fulltime.

Jason Darrah, 41, of Sioux City, Iowa, spent 24 years in Iowa prisons. He was released in 2013. Drake taught him while at Newton. Darrah earned eight credits and took the first two classes Grinnell offered for credit. He continued his college education after his release. When he visited Grinnell’s campus, he hugged Drake as a free man.

“I always saw him as a father figure,” says Darrah, who now works as a garbage collector. “I admire the man to no end. He is the real deal. He embodies compassion.”

Many inmates struggled as young learners. Some were in special education programs; others barely graduated from high school or dropped out altogether. They admit to having had poor self-esteem and social skills. Initially, some also lacked the writing skills necessary for Grinnell’s rigorous coursework.

“It’s not in their background, but by the end, they’re writing A papers,” Drake says. “To see that kind of trajectory with the writing is really, really impressive.”

Cosby says inmates help tutor and encourage each other and serve as a positive example for the rest of the prison, which has about 960 inmates.

“The curriculum was so difficult,” Cosby says. “The professors just kept coming in there with more, and more, and more.”

Darrah, who earned his associate’s degree in May from Kirkwood Community College in Iowa and is continuing his education at the University of Iowa, credits the program with saving his life.

Newton Correctional Facility 

Twenty miles from Grinnell’s campus, inside the small utilitarian library at the Newton prison, 10 students listen attentively to Jack Mutti, professor of economics and Sidney Meyer Professor in International Economics, discuss monopolies, demand curves, and marginal revenue.

The men sit in rows of three, surrounded by their books and notebooks. A stream of inmates walk past the library windows, but the class remains focused on the diagrams Mutti writes with chalk. They laugh, debate, and question.

“I love higher education. I love learning,” says one of Mutti’s students. “This program is literally the most important thing I have going on in my life.”

John Hammers, 34, of Moorhead, Iowa, was incarcerated from age 19–31. He earned 12 credits, took numerous not-for-credit courses, and helped coordinate the program for other prisoners. He was released from Newton in 2010. A husband and father, Hammers credits the program with his current success as a supervisor at Farmland Foods.

“They made you feel better about yourself inside,” Hammers says of Guenther, Drake, and student volunteers. “They made you feel like a human being again.”

Taking classes while an inmate is fraught with challenges. Even so, the inmates refuse to give up. They learned to use computers, type, study, and research.

“Somewhere along the line it wasn’t about what I was learning; it was about how I was learning. Just a light bulb came on. I was learning how to learn,” Cosby says.

“I would not have made it without the people around me — especially statistics,” he says with a quick laugh.

“The prison drops away and you’re in a classroom,” says Hammers. “It’s magical.”

The Program’s Early Days

All but a handful of college-in-prison programs disappeared after 1994 when the U.S. government eliminated access to the Pell Grant for inmates.

The Liberal Arts in Prison Program at Grinnell began in the spring of 2003 as a creative writing workshop at the Newton prison. The late Howard Burkle, professor emeritus of religious studies, taught the first course, which included four Grinnell students.

It continued as a student volunteer program until 2009, when a five-year for-credit pilot began. In 2011, the First Year of College program debuted. Inmates enrolled in the program earn a First Year of College Award after they have completed 32 credits and can earn up to 60 total credits.

The Grinnell Liberal Arts in Prison program is the only college-in-prison program in Iowa and is part of the Consortium for the Liberal Arts in Prison, hosted at Bard College, a growing group of prison programs at highly selective colleges and universities.

Why Prison Education Programs Matter

According to a 2012 Grinnell prison program survey, nearly 50 percent of alumni who volunteered with the prison program now work in fields they say relate directly to their experiences with the program, such as teaching, social work, or prison-related projects and careers.

Brian Buckley ’14 is the Hudson site coordinator for the Prison Public Memory Project. The organization documents the histories of prisons in New York and uses the research to engage communities across the nation about the role of prison in society.

“Prior to coming to Grinnell, I hadn’t even stepped foot in a prison or a jail,” says Buckley. “The Liberal Arts in Prison Program probably shaped my professional interests and career choices more than just about anything else I did at Grinnell.”

Kyle Orth, 27, a car salesman and father who serves on the board of a homeless shelter in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, dropped out of school at a young age. He read below grade level and admits he didn’t have much going for himself. He spent nearly eight years at the Newton prison.

“I came to the program broken,” he says. “I was pretty hopeless.”

Even so, he began taking a non-accredited literature class.

“I sat in the back. I felt intimidated,” he says. “I fell in love with it almost immediately.”

Participating gave him the boost of self-esteem he needed to apply for the First Year of College Program. He earned 13 credits before his release. Orth stressed the importance of a liberal arts education over vocational training during a recent panel.

“These classes didn’t just teach us. Really it was like a form of treatment,” Orth says. “It really healed a lot of things for us, for me.”

Life After Release 

“Emily told me to go directly to school when I left prison,’” Cosby says.

And he did. He finished a nine-month welding program at Kirkwood Community College and is now considering a career in social work.

Hammers, Cosby, Darrah, and Orth have traveled across the country with Guenther and Drake, speaking about the program to Grinnell alumni and friends.

Guenther hopes to build connections among Grinnell alumni that could ultimately help participants further their education or find a career after their release from prison. A felony conviction can be a barrier to both college admission and employment.

“It’s a terrible feeling to have to check that box, but it’s imperative that you tell the truth,” says Cosby, a member of the NAACP, which met with Gov. Terry Branstad of Iowa about eliminating the felony question from job applications.

Grinnell’s prison program removes inmates from the monochromatic world of prison life and exposes the richness of life as Grinnellians.

Darrah says students are grateful to the College.

“The experience is perpetually resonating, not only inspiring us to continually improve ourselves, but we also now have an indelible need to help others,” he says. “We have learned that it is our responsibility, and we deeply appreciate it as a gift.”