Resume the position

Yoga volunteers work with girls at Juvenile Hall.

By Don Mayhew / The Fresno Bee

(Updated Monday, September 12, 2005, 6:01 AM)

The day room inside the substance abuse unit of the Fresno County Juvenile Hall resembles a yoga studio about as much as a first- grader's self-portrait looks like a Rembrandt.

The colors, mostly faded blues and wan beige, are harsh, not cozy. The sounds of ringing phones and blaring intercoms bounce hard off the walls. Guards bustle about, a reminder that not everyone here has the freedom to come and go.

But volunteer yoga instructors Katie Flinn and Louise Bauer Davoli are the kind of women who make do. While Davoli plugs her iPod into a portable speaker, Flinn walks around the room, spritzing a can of aromatherapy mist. The air fills with propulsive chanting and a sweet orange scent.

Since June, Flinn and Davoli have spent an hour most Wednesday afternoons leading a small group of teenage girls through various yoga stretches and poses, offering hope and encouragement in some of the sternest surroundings in the city.

"It makes a nice environment in a not-so-nice environment," Flinn says while continuing to spray. "Just because we're here in Juvenile Hall, we don't deprive them."

Flinn, owner of the downtown Fresno studio Coil Yoga, says the girls learn more than exercises.

"They're not here to get the perfect pose," she says. "They're here to learn social and personal responsibility skills. Yoga can help them change their behavior."

Ollie Dimery-Ratliff, the hall's director, says the class teaches skills that can be applied to other areas of the inmates' lives: "It gives them exposure to something they would never experience on the outside."

The substance abuse unit houses up to 12 girls, but only seven show up for class this day. Filing into the room, some seem skittish, others sluggish.

Flinn gets right to work, instructing the girls to take their first pose. They lie face down on the mat, knees fully bent beneath them, arms stretched straight so their hands nearly touch their feet. They almost appear to be praying.

Beneath the giant U.S. flag that dominates one corner of the room, Flinn asks the girls gently but firmly to acknowledge that their behavior has consequences and to apply patience, trust and commitment to their lives.

Davoli, a student of Flinn whose work with Fresno County's Youth Advocates Foundation led her to suggest these weekly yoga classes, wanders around the room, straightening backs and moving arms to the correct position.

In many ways, it's like any other yoga class for near- beginners. But as the grunts reverberating through the walls from the boys playing cards in the next room make clear, this is not like any other situation.

For one thing, the girls wear dark T-shirts and baggy beige shorts, not tank tops and form-fitting pants. Because inmates are not allowed to touch one another, no partner yoga is performed.

Visitors operate under similar restrictions. Flinn says she and Davoli had to get permission to do adjustments, which might be something as simple as repositioning a girl's shoulders to relieve stress.

Building confidence is big, Davoli says, as is learning affection for oneself.

"They learn not to rely on others for validation," she says. "They learn internal validation."

The girls also learn how to relax--no easy task inside such a facility. Davoli says one girl told her after the first yoga class that she was able to sleep through the night for the first time since she'd been incarcerated.

Another girl, an 18-year-old named Adriana who has been at the hall since January, says yoga calms her.

"I used to feel all stressed out," she says. "It gave me a coping skill."

The girls also learn to become comfortable in their own skins. Flinn's instructions often refer to internal organs in an informal way.

"Pull your heart down to your legs," she says at one point. "Feel how cozy and warm your heart feels against your legs."

After a few minutes, she has them try another position and says, "Pull your bellybutton up to the sky."

Body issues are big with many teenage girls, and those inside Juvenile Hall are no exception.

"A lot of these girls grow up in environments where they're not taught about their body," Flinn says. "We're not just talking about watching your bicep stretch. There's a whole inner landscape with yoga we talk about on a subtle level. We map their way through their body."

The girls also learn not to compare themselves to one another. It's a hard lesson.

During a pose called the Crow, the students crouch and lean forward on their hands until their feet leave the ground. This is the first time they've tried it, and some naturally find it easier than others to do. Most struggle. One loses her balance and falls to the floor. Another holds the pose for four or five seconds.

"It's because she's skinny," says one girl.

"That has nothing to do with it," Flinn says. "You have to find your center. It's about balance and strength. This is the first time you've tried this. You might get lucky."

Adriana, one of the few to successfully perform the position for a few moments, says it felt magical.

"Balancing on your arms, that's crazy," she says later. "How I did it, I don't know."

Yoga has taught her "you don't have to do drugs or party to have fun. You can meditate instead. Doing the Crow gave me the same feeling as doing drugs. It was weird. I felt high."

Nearing the end of the hour, Flinn keeps the class brisk. They've run through about a dozen positions and at least as many movements. The pace would seem to be at odds with the relaxed tone the instructors want to impart, but it works.

"To keep their attention, the class needs to move," Flinn says. "I have to keep it challenging. We teach them they can move through difficult situations. By the end, they're usually bubbly and having fun."

It's true. After doing the final exercise, in which they lie very still and concentrate on their breathing, the girls sit up and talk about their feelings. At the beginning of the class, many expressed confusion and uncertainty. Now they're uniformly happy.

"I feel like a big, old weight just got lifted off my shoulders," one says.

Dimery-Ratliff would like to expand the program to all the girls in the facility, perhaps by the end of the month. But Flinn and Davoli are volunteers who have other obligations.

Flinn wants to find a way to do more. She's seen the impact yoga has had after only a couple of months.

"It's not just about the pose," she says. "It's a way of thinking, a way of being, a way of programming the body and making what doesn't work work in your life."

The reporter can be reached at dmayhew@fresnobee.com or (559) 441-6322.

Volunteer instructor Katie Flinn (jn white) leads a yoga class for young women held inside a substance abuse unit at Fresno County Juvenile Hall.
Tomas Ovalle / The Fresno Bee

Achieving the perfect pose is not the aim for this yoga class. "They're here to learn social and personal responsibility skills," says instructor Katie Flinn.

Tomas Ovalle / The Fresno Bee

Flinn foregoes partner positions and movements because the inmates are not allowed to touch one another. "Yoga can help them change their behavior," she says.
Tomas Ovalle / The Fresno Bee

Flinn, owner of Coil Yoga in Fresno, positions a student's hands.
Tomas Ovalle / The Fresno Bee