Correction officers likewise express, at the least, anxiety over allowing the inmates to rehearse and perform stage shows precisely because the activity requires the convicts to convene together. Such concerns are certainly valid for immediate, practical purposes: fears over inmate uprisings and fights among acrimonious inmates are obviously at prime potential whenever the inmates congregate, and such fears must be addressed and insured against. However, the fragmented, isolated existence resultant from keeping the inmates apart ultimately retards any practice of productive, healthy interaction like what will be required of them upon their release.
If the term “corrections” is to be any more than a polite (and even inaccurate) euphemism, then the anti-social behavior for which these inmates were originally incarcerated should be remedied with the exercise of prosocial conduct. Of course, as with any educational experiment, such exercises must be effected in moderated venues so as to minimize the aforementioned riots and fights, and other hazardous situations. This sort of controlled experiment would also help the participants develop positive social skills incrementally in graduated degrees, allowing them to master more modest successes and to mature in stages. This graduated approach to reintegration into society is actually remarkably consistent with the guiding principles of penal practice.2 Theatrical performances, structured as they are within predetermined behavior with known outcomes (i.e., the scripted action), seem suitable—if not ideal—forms in which to conduct this type of exercise.
“A Grand Theatre for the Trial of All New Plans in Hygiene and Education”
Quoted in David J. Rothman, “Perfecting the Prison,” original source unattributed
In a way, theatrics and incarceration have had a flirtatious relationship almost since the beginning of American penology. When the labor model of offender reformation was introduced in the New York State Prison at Auburn in the 1820s, as a direct challenge to the Pennsylvania model of solitude and quiet reflection in one’s cell, the walls surrounding the Auburn prison yard were especially constructed to allow for small openings so interested citizens could watch the convicts at work.