We Are Here – I Am Here
Here – Here – Here
with Burning Love
Devotedly
HERE

We affirm our existence by living consciously, not automatically. At best, we re-dedicate ourselves every day to Aliveness, Humanity, Earth. To Dignity, Beauty, Humility. Just as shells, seaweed, sand, water, and stones do. The above is a mantra for difficult and tumultuous times. I have practiced it with my students for years. We speak the words out aloud. Firmly – with intention. We commit to protecting life. Let your voice vibrate with lived truth. We need it. In these times, it is important to consciously counter the swirl of Armageddon ideas and vibes. Let your every step resonate with breath, from the core of your being, from earth. Walk with gravity, dignity, gravitas.  Every step devoted, simply alive. Your words emanating from heart and belly. I am here. I am present. This form of arriving comforts others. Do you feel your soles as your feet meet the ground? Each convincing step says HERE – HERE. When distracted, ungrounded, sit and gently slap your thighs with your palms, kindly insisting on being. HERE. All of us need this.

In class, I am guiding my students into simple walking, sensing each step. Peeling away thinking, attitudes, distractions. Not easy. But as it goes on, despite slow movement, we get warm, our faces flushed. We start feeling peaceful, relaxed, confident – awake. Alive. Ready to meet life as is. Present. Here. Ich bin Hier. Wir sind Hier. Life directly experienced. Courageously, honestly present. Try it, explore. Discover the sensations of your every step. Do you feel the vibrations rippling? And the same with your words when relating, communicating. Ask a friend: Do you believe me when I speak?

So, I will tell the story again. Thirty-five years ago, from 1991 to 1995, I am volunteering in a federal high security women’s prison, emboldening the women to engage with their bodies and voices, feelings and truth. After a daylong volunteer training from the prison’s officials – which consists mostly of making us sufficiently scared of the inmates – I have my first day “inside” with a group of women from various ethnic backgrounds and ages.  Just a trial, initiated by the prison’s doctor, a remarkable woman. By nature, I am curious, eager to discover. With my heart and body, I listen to what is needed in this unnatural, obviously fascistic setting. And intuitively, I decide to introduce how to make a good scream. Prepping us all with grounding movements, breath & sounding practices, so we won’t hurt our voices. For example, a loud and convincing NO – setting boundaries is a theme in here – with the sound erupting from the legs, belly, and passionate heart. Ringing out into the huge empty Gym building. When I am demonstrating – and my scream is strong, bouncing off the high metal roof – they are impressed and eager to try. It takes guts. Mut und Hingabe. Giving over. Going around the circle, I am increasingly able to coax everyone into their own center, owning their inner strength. Then I let them give feedback to each other’s screams, one by one. Was it a “good” one? Meaning believable, and therefore effective. Really? Did it ring true, strong, convincing?

The women are honest judges, kind, precise, and encouraging. Every one desires to train the skill of protecting themselves. Of releasing pain, frustration, anger, fear. Letting it go on the out-breath. Feeling new in-breath of healing. And thus, we touch into our own power. Mindful, intentional, curious. Even the shy ones, even the older short Chinese lady, get into it. Then, a most spectacular surprise, astounding even me – the whole hall starts echoing with passion and liberation. Ringing like a huge brass bell. Suddenly, the heavy metal entrance door screeches – the concerned face of a guard peeking in fearfully. I laugh and wave at him. We are just practicing, I shout. He slams the door shut. We erupt into a magnificent storm of laughter. They love it.

Right then and there, we fall in love. The women make me promise to come back. Breaking the walls with love. The federal prison’s doctor says yes. For the next four years, I spend all of my Wednesdays inside prison. We grow close, I see them more often than my friends. I am HERE to learn. We create community of kindness and caring. We have three hours of Finding our Voices, as I call my weekly workshop, exploring sounding, movement, writing, drawing, healing. Then it's lunch in the cafeteria. Not for me, I bring my homemade sandwich into the yard, hanging around for a few more hours. So much beauty and humanity. All kind of women keep dropping by, delighted by my colorful unique way of dressing, telling me about their kids, how much they miss them. Sharing pain, survival tactics, cooking adventures, and much more that I am not allowed to recite here. What a journey – many miracles along the road.

In order to stay healthy, each woman must engage in the struggle to keep faith in their own beingness and soul. Against the odds, holding tight to their responsibilities as mothers, sisters, aunts, friends, grandmothers, partners. As I am writing this thirty-five years later, for us ordinary people on the outside, hope is too weak to counter the all-pervasive collective pull towards collapse, disaster and Weltuntergang (end of world). Huge changes on several levels are upon us. Let’s listen. Our bodies, feelings, movements, actions, voices, honest expressions, are good guides. Let’s be faithful to our moral core. Moral in the sense of deeply knowing goodness. Remembering fortitude and aliveness. Each step we take becomes our reality. Distraction and denial are only seemingly an easier path. Numbing and dulling, in the long run, it will kill your soul and spirit. Render you a slave, a prisoner. The women inside know this.

A week ago, I hear a young Ukrainian woman on the radio. She talks about delivering mail in the war zone. Any second, this can cost her life. Quietly proclaiming her defiance, and how proud the people are of her service. When asked why she does it, she responds: This is my hope. My life. She affirms her existence – I am Here – via service for others, taking risks. This kind of active hope is elusive to many of us. Hope as action. Mostly, we equate hope with passively waiting for better times, hoping that hope will make our fear go away. Women in prison must muster endurance, prowess. There it is forbidden to cry silent tears, scream, or raise one’s voice. Many come from dangerous oppressive environments. What we practice behind walls, is equally risky for them on the outside. Simply being our true selves is dangerous, and liberating. Being fully Present – this we practice.

When preparing for the uncertain future, we must activate our feet, thigh muscles and voice: HERE – HERE – HERE. Yes, we are here. Strip away illusions, wishful thinking. Find our strength, our step, slap our thighs, wake up to alignment and our naturally unique voice. Let others perhaps tell us: that is not convincing, try again, you can do it.  We explore and discover. Back then in 1992, the women give applause to each other after a first truly good scream escapes their ribcage. Ringing with spirit, echoing out into the universe, beyond the walls and barbed-wire fences. Unforgettable. Whether a mail-lady in the war zone, or a woman in prison, a cab driver, a parking lot guard, or clerk in an office… we all need courage, appreciation, dedication, practice. Daring to be real.

PS:  I must add this. Those 35 years ago, when I was intensely researching American incarceration laws and practices, I also found out about the death row lawyer Bryan Stevenson. He was not as famous yet, but incredibly dedicated to justice. I felt utter awe. From 1991 to 1998, I learnt more than I could have ever at any university. Being so close, I was touched by truth. My film Voices from Inside (1996) which includes the children on the outside, is a testament to “hidden away” beauty. Later, Stevenson’s beautiful African American Legacy Museums in Montgomery, Alabama – for which he researched South Africa's and Germany's commemoration cultures – have in return influenced my Garage Memorial Mural (2020).  https://legacysites.eji.org/

On September 10, 2026, Bryan Stevenson came to the Sydney Goldstein Theater in San Francisco to talk with Lisa Armstrong, a journalist and professor at the UC Berkeley School of Journalism. Even if you just listen to the first 10 minutes to this moving and inspiring talk, you will know why I put the LINK here: https://www.cityarts.net/event/bryan-stevenson/  And if you look at my garage doors carefully, you will see how all those themes are intertwined. Whether racism, state violence murdering Black people, the death penalty, incarceration of innocent people, cruelty, injustice, all of these are momentous betrayals of the idea of America, the land of the free. Look beneath the words, and you will realize a fountain of potential, tears, beauty, and pride. Black people’s hope manifests as constant active vision for freedom.

Voices from Inside

Women prisoners and their children on the outside speak out

https://karinafilms.vhx.tv/products/voices-from-inside

Inside a federal women's prison, a German-born theater artist encourages a racially mixed circle of women to find their own voices through poetry and creative expression, and meets their children on the outside. The prisoners share their life stories and experiences of prison life. Voices from Inside shatters stereotypes about crime, criminals and race. An inspiring experiment in breaking the walls with love!

“Every legislature that lavishes money on building prisons--and starves programs that rebuild dignity--should be put in a room with this unforgettable story of four women's lives.”

Gloria Steinem

“I found it beautifully made and very moving. It is so important for us on the outside to realize what treasures are hidden away on the inside.”

Susan Sarandon