ELEVEN MEN ROLL OUT yoga mats and gather in a circle. They’re wearing lime green or red- and white-striped jumpsuits. Fluorescent lights buzz from the ceiling, and correctional officers man the entrance of the cinder block classroom. There’s no athleisure, natural light, or fragrant aromas that are staples in most yoga studios. This is what an hour-long yoga session looks like inside Winnebago County Jail in Rockford, Illinois.
Yoga can be free-flowing, but here, everything is intentional and monitored. Each person gets a mat and one yoga block. Music plays in the background to provide one transportive element to the experience, and the men sit in a circle so they can see everyone else in the room as they practice. The lights always stay on. Instructors wear simple, loose clothing, and all their personal items must be stored in a locker outside the jail: no cellphones, food, books, or papers with staples. A red emergency button is on the wall at the front of the room; officers are posted on either side of the hallway.
County jail technically serves as a transitional place to be held awaiting sentencing before someone is either convicted and sent to prison or released, but the average time at Winnebago County is a year and a half.
“Letting go does not mean forgetting a memory,” says volunteer facilitator Stacy Morrissey, the founder and yoga program director at Winnebago County Jail. She inhales and tells the group to set an “intention,” like “whatever happened in the past is not happening right now.” The men sit on their mats and take a deep breath before pushing up the sleeves on their worn jumpsuits and transitioning into the first pose of the day—downward dog. “This [pose] usually irritates me, but after [the breathing] we just did, it doesn’t bother me,” says one of the men while still in position (names have been withheld due to privacy concerns and legal restrictions).
There’s a clear correlation between trauma, aggression, and criminal behavior, and according to 2021 research published in Psychiatry, Psychology and Law, over 90 percent of incarcerated people have experienced deeply disturbing events and up to 20 percent are diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. These events can change the nervous system, skewing the body’s ability to regulate itself, says Morrissey, who underwent a 32-hour training on trauma-informed yoga. For some people, this means they’re always ready to react, instead of rationally respond. For others, it means they’re overstimulated. As a result, the nervous system triggers and induces panic, anger, anxiety, and rage—whether in or out of jail, she explains.
Research has found that being detained in prison increases stress, triggers anxiety and depression, reduces sleep, and hurts overall well-being, further stimulating the nervous system in deleterious ways. Having an outlet like yoga can help counter these challenges. Yoga has been found to reduce stress, anxiety, and depression, and improves sleep patterns. That’s why a small but growing number of correctional facilities are offering yoga classes. “The practice of yoga helps us develop and strengthen overall emotional intelligence,” says Morrissey. “We cultivate insight, and with that comes accountability and improved rational decision making.”
The Prison Yoga Project was founded in 2014 by James Fox, a certified yoga instructor, after he recognized the need for a body-based healing program for people who are incarcerated. His stated mission was to improve lives, foster self-rehabilitation, and develop self-awareness and self-worth, so he created a curriculum focused on mindfulness (the state of being conscious and aware of the present moment), compassion, and the mind-body connection (the correlation between thoughts and feelings). Today the Prison Yoga Project—the largest program of its kind—has more than 100 programs across 15 states, and eight countries, including Winnebago Country Jail. Some of the programs are volunteer run, while others are funded by the state or correctional facility.
“The focus of our yoga is giving folks a safe ‘container’ to connect with their body,” says Nicole Hellthaler, the assistant director of the Prison Yoga Project. “We want people to really grow their ability to come back in touch with their body and know what’s going on.” Anytime someone becomes angry, they might be unable to avoid lashing out, physically or verbally, says Morrissey. But if they’re able to pause, feel supported, and understand the way the nervous system works and how they might respond, they can make better choices, she explains.
“I’m glad you said to breathe, because I’ve been holding my breath,” says one 39-year-old male as Morrissey wraps up class with a breathing exercise; the men repeatedly plug one nostril on the inhale, then the other on the exhale. “Breathing has been the center of my life since yoga,” he says. “It’s the glue that holds me together.”
Yoga as a “Source of Peace”
There are no windows in the Winnebago County Jail, and the air conditioning blasts to the point that your nose starts to run. The cramped cells include two stacked metal beds with a toilet an arm’s distance away. Guards walk the hallways, belts strapped with weapons. Meals consist of meatloaf half the size of your palm, canned vegetables, and a side that resembles mashed potatoes.
After the breathing exercise, class ends with five minutes of Savasana, the Sanskrit name for the resting and restorative period when practitioners lie supine to relax, regroup, and calm the nervous system. Motivational posters are taped to the wall. One reads, “If your life was a movie, what would it be rated?”
“This is a source of peace,” says a middle-aged man in a lime green jumpsuit, as he slides back into his neon orange sandals. Green jumpsuits represent the “general population” and red- and white-striped jumpsuits signify federal crimes such as commercial fraud, drug trafficking, armed robbery, and sexual assault. “I try to have mini sessions of Savasana on my own, but it’s not the same,” he adds.
In jail, everything about life is predetermined; everything from meals to showers to calls home. The men have limited choices and no freedom. But during yoga, they’re able to move with agency. They choose to stay or not stay in a pose, they pick if they want their arms on their hips or above their head, and they decide if they want to start a move on the right or left leg. If something’s unpleasant, they can stop. It’s their practice—they are taught and instructed, but not ordered.
Yoga Can Help Move Forward
“I used to be so depressed that I would sleep 14 hours a day,” says a young man, with black-framed glasses and a low ponytail. “Once I started coming to yoga I felt better, you know, less depressed, and I now feel rested after only seven hours of sleep.”
Current research reaffirms yoga’s value as a practice for rehabilitation, ultimately affecting how someone will respond in the face of future stressors. Studies show that yoga and meditation trigger neurotransmitters that reduce anxiety and may boost levels of serotonin and dopamine, which can help the men manage post-traumatic stress disorder and underlying mood conditions like anxiety and depression.
“It’s psychological warfare in here,” says a man as he sits cross legged on the mat. His jumpsuit so worn, the knee patches are practically see-through. “But after yoga, my anxiety disappears, and it usually lasts for two days [before returning].”
The more obvious physical benefits of a yoga practice are also invaluable for these men. One man describes terrible back pain from the beds, which consist of a less-than three-foot-wide steel sheet mounted to a wall and a thin camping sleep mat on top. “I’ve learned how to properly stretch and release [back muscle] tension.”
Despite the safety precautions which remind the men of where they are, the hour-long class on Thursday afternoons always wins as the weekly highlight. “Once you get a taste, you want more,” says one of the guys.
“I first came [to yoga class] just to get out of my room, but it became easier and really enjoyable,” says another of the men, who recently received a certificate for attending eight classes in a row. Comfort, connection, and support are all emphasized in the program, and commitment does not go unnoticed.
“I’ve got this breathing thing in a chokehold,” says another.
What Comes Next for the Prison Yoga Project
There are plans to expand the yoga program at the Winnebago County Jail beyond just one session each week, but implementing more classes will face some hurdles. Security protocols have to be observed at all times for the classes, and staff shortages have made it tough to hold more than just the weekly class.
The Prison Yoga Project is also working to expand more broadly, bringing its mission to more jails and prisons around the nation. “We’ve grown in our program offering to over 100 places pre-COVID, but the number is slightly lower right now, just because not all of our programs have come back online since the big pause,” Hellthatler says. “We’re providing programming and training, and overall have this vision and mission of not just serving incarcerated folks specifically now, but all those impacted by the system.”
For now, the mission remains clear: providing a physical and mental outlet for as many people in the jail and prison system as possible.
Andi Breitowich is a Chicago-based writer and graduate student at Northwestern Medill. She’s a mass consumer of social media and cares about women’s rights, holistic wellness, and non-stigmatizing reproductive care. As a former collegiate pole vaulter, she has a love for all things fitness and is currently obsessed with Peloton Tread workouts and hot yoga.
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