by Soren Gordhamer
It took eight months to begin meditation classes at the local juvenile hall — seven months of talking about it and one month of letters, phone calls, and meetings. The director was not sure the kids would go for it. He said that if we expected the kids to sit down, cross their legs, and watch their breath for forty-five minutes, we were mistaken. My co-leader, Jason Murphy, was a former resident of the hall and worked as a drug rehabilitation counselor with a similar population. He said, “We could teach basket weaving and if we are genuine, they will go for it. They watch you, not what you say.” The director warned us: “You need to be a master of your art. If you show signs of weakness or doubt, they will see it and blow you away. They won’t hold back.”
