As a prison chaplain working at a correctional institute in Ontario, Canada, John Ilkka knows a little about the proper caring for souls. As a Catholic Christian, he also has some especially interesting insights into not only the religious needs of the inmates that he serves but also the environment of prison life in general. In this interview John talks, among other things, about the importance that sound plays in both his role and the lives of those he is assisting.
[Radix] The word attending has been coming up a lot recently, and I am certain that it will be entering our conversation. I just find it such an interesting word. A few of the definitions are “to stretch towards,” and “to direct the mind or observant faculties, to listen, apply oneself; to watch over, minister to, wait upon, follow.” When I think of what you do as a chaplain working in prison, I would assume you do these things.
[Ilkka] I do, yes. In a number of ways. Actually, people might think I only attend to the needs of the inmates, but I am also aware of the needs of the staff as well. So yeah, attending is a very important thing that I do.
[Radix] Can you tell us a little about the correctional facility that you work in?
[Ilkka] Well, it’s somewhat unique because it’s a remand center. That means that we house all kinds of people who are awaiting sentence for all kinds of crimes. We have people who are charged with petty theft all the way to murder. Because of that, my institution is considered maximum security.
[Radix] How are people separated?
[Ilkka] So there is separation, but not by crime. Sometimes there is separation by region, or security concerns, or if you need special care, but not by the crime you commit. Which is an interesting dynamic. I heard it said from one inmate that the remand center is kind of like high school. But when you go to a federal institution, it’s kind of like university.
[Radix] I would imagine that a correctional facility has a very unique soundscape. Just as we have various landscapes in yards, in parks, and in unique places that have specific flora and fauna, there are also soundscapes that are unique. Can you give us some of your thoughts on that?
[Ilkka] Okay, so let’s say that you were to come into the prison at night. You would be admitted and then asked a bunch of questions. At that point I am sure you’d already be disoriented. Then you would go to the clinic, depending on the time, and they would do a brief run-through on protocol. Next, you would be taken to your range, the area you would be assigned to. On the way there you would hear the guards radioing a notification ahead of your arrival. Then you’d get to the door. You’d hear the big metal door being opened. With a large key. Then, after passing through that door, you would hear that same big metal door … close. And it’s a loud sound. Then you’d hear the locks being clicked. That sound, especially if it’s your first time in, would, I think, really ring in your ears. That sound of a big metal door hitting a metal stop. You might be thinking, like, all right, I’m not getting out of here, not right away. Then, as you heard the key turning, you might have these two thoughts: I am no longer in control and I am in a cage. And the morning would bring about a whole new set of events – but especially the noise. It’s everywhere. TVs would be blaring, and they are often tuned to different stations.
[Radix] Essentially, it’s a total cacophony.
[Ilkka] Absolutely. It’s pretty much constant from 7a.m. to 11p.m. And because everybody has different tastes, the different music and TV shows are playing constantly and loudly. All kinds of music playing at the same time from each of the inmates’ in-room TVs. This means that it’s very hard to read and just think, in general.
[Radix] Probably this noise becomes an enemy to spirituality, I’d guess?
[Ilkka] It is. I have guys that want to talk to me in a private setting just to get away from the noise. They will also do that to pray as well. But I think, in general, prayer requires some interior silence. And it’s hard to come into that place of interior silence with all the exterior noise abounding. It’s a hard skill to acquire in normal circumstances, let alone in a prison. I mean, I have seen people do it, but that is the exception rather than the rule, for sure.
I am reminded about when Elijah hears God. He doesn’t find him in the wind or the earthquake or the fire, but he finds God in the silence, basically. And even when we look at Jesus, he would pull away from the crowd to go alone to the desert – away from the hustle and bustle. But in a prison setting? The reality is a life of constant, constant, noise.
[Radix] This reminds me of C.S Lewis in the Screwtape Letters, where the senior devil comments,
“[Hell] … has been occupied by Noise–Noise, the grand dynamism, the audible expression of all that is exultant, ruthless, and virile–Noise which alone defends us from silly qualms, despairing scruples and impossible desires. We will make the whole universe a noise in the end.” I really like that.
[Radix] But do some inmates deal with it better than others?
[Ilkka] For sure. Some people still read, and others make wonderful pieces of art. Or at least until they can’t ignore the noise. I think that it’s not that they are always annoyed, per se, but it’s that the pressure can build up. After a couple of months then it’s like, oh my gosh. No one’s quiet, ever. It’s always this noise. And the sound, in general, is going to be a lot more threatening than peace- instilling.
[Radix] In our earlier correspondence you mentioned there being a “tone of violence” that pervades the prison. Can you explain that a bit more?
[Ilkka] Yes. I think the first thing to think about is that if you want to get something done, you can either cooperate or it can be imposed on you with violence. And this goes for both the staff and the inmates. The staff needs to get stuff done for a variety of reasons, so there is an underlying tone of voice that is often used, and it just is that way. Between inmates that tone of violence is definitely there. For example, the new guy comes in and is told to clean a particular area. He could say no, but then would likely face violence. He knows that from the tone used, violence will be a result of not following the hierarchy. And in prison there very much is a hierarchy.
[Radix] Isn’t it really something about how the same word, when used with a different tone, can mean quite different things?
[Ilkka] There is so much to it. And also how similar words can have very different contexts. So, in my prison, if you are “dah shit,” that’s a compliment. But it’s the opposite if you’re “shitty.” Like, seriously. It’s also important to know where people are from. Because different places where people come from are connected with words meaning different things. And I try to know what those slang words are. An example would be that in Toronto a person can be called a “wasteman” (a waste disposal engineer) in a teasing way, and nobody would be offended. It would even be said kind of friendly sometimes. But said in a different way, viciously, it would be implying a low class and be really insulting. And violence could be the result of it.
[Radix] In a way then, you have to be an expert at translating context.
[Ilkka] I have to know different social cues and how to use them and the role of context, yes. Sometimes it really is the case that it’s not what you say, but how you say it. I actually like to think of words as being 2D, but when a person adds tonality to those words, they become 3D.
[Radix] Specifically in the case of certain tones. Yeah, that is a really interesting way of applying tonality to language.
[Ilkka] It is, isn’t it? It allows for a deeper interaction conceptually, I think. Tone is like depth, in a way. Back to the tone of violence, I do think that most of the inmates use it for the sake of survival. They have to. But then that works its way into everything – even when they experience loss. So sometimes I have to deliver bad news that a family member has passed away or something. But the inmates can’t express any weakness. That is just a reality. Weakness is dangerous. So they have to keep the tough face on. The problem is that they keep this as the default. Even if they wouldn’t actualize the violence, they keep that in their tone of voice.
[Radix] Probably a stupid question, but is that something that an inmate would employ, as a default tone, once he gets back out into the rest of the world, too?
[Ilkka] In some ways, I think. You get used to keeping something turned on and it gets hard to turn it off. If we make something our nature, changing it becomes difficult.
[Radix] I am reminded of the fact that we store pain or trauma in our bodies, and I am hearing from you that trauma and pain can be stored in our tone of voice, in a way. You spoke to me before about the power of silence. Tell me more about silence from your perspective.
[Ilkka] There is a lot to silence. First is how to read it right, since silence can mean different things. But then there is an answer in silence. too. Silence is an answer, in a way. Providing silence to a person and allowing them to choose how to fill that void is a gift. If you have watched Good Will Hunting with Robin Williams, you might remember how Williams, playing the therapist, first had to learn to read Will well, and part of that was by using silence. It requires a good amount of intuition, in a way.
Also, part of the silence thing also goes along with recognizing that there is no magic word that is going to make things better. Say the inmate is dealing with a death in the family. There is no magic word that is going to make him feel better. I can’t make anything just go away. What is required though is a lot of care and concern. It requires an ear to listen, to see: what does this person need to experience from me, and then I have to know how to address that particular need. My silence can be a gift to them though. It can be profound, actually, just to let them talk about whatever they want me to know.
[Radix] Sounds like there is a lot of trust connected to what you are talking about.
[Ilkka] Very much. It’s a gift for me too, in a way. In some cases, these guys are much older than I am, and yet they are trusting me. It’s the reverse of the archetypical old wise man, because I am not the old wise man. But they still talk to me. Also, the position of chaplain holds weight in prison, which is nice. They know that I am not there to judge them, and they feel safer to take off their masks and talk without so much of that tone of violence. And this all takes courage on their part; to be open in a place and environment where being open is bad, where being vulnerable is weak, and therefore dangerous.
[Radix] You mentioned in an earlier conversation to me about “the sound of suffering.” Because it seems like you would really have to be attuned to knowing just what that sound is in order to be more Christ-like to those in need. Can you give more voice to that sound?
[Ilkka] It’s hard to describe. It’s just a sound that something isn’t right. People will sound different when the words they’re saying and the feelings that they are demonstrating don’t match. It’s something in their body language too, but not just that. In Poker there are these things called tells. A good poker player will be quick to learn what the other players’ tells are. I think sometimes a chaplain has to be like a good poker player – we have to be adept at learning tells. Of course, everyone is different. And suffering can be evidenced in different ways. Though often tears can imply a lesser degree of suffering than internal suffering, which is even worse. Tearless internal suffering can even be more profound, in some ways deeper. The sound of suffering gets expressed in many ways, and it’s noticeable … Sorry, I don’t have a ton of words to go along with it.
[Radix] Yeah, no. Thank you. Something that I have been trying to really think about is the lack of vocabulary when it comes to so many aspects of sound. And it makes sense that sound goes along with empathy as well. We all just “know” when somebody is being empathetic, but to verbally explain how that works with specificity is certainly difficult. Again, I think it goes back to a limited vocabulary. Like, how does one describe the intuition that you would have in words?
Somewhat connected, can I ask how you deal with the stresses and complexities of your work once you get home? That must be something you have to deal with, and with intentionality.
[Ilkka] Yeah, I would absolutely say that I carry it home with me. And it definitely affects my prayer life. Knowing what I do about the guys I am with and wanting their best. Sometimes what’s really hard is knowing that “their best” is sometimes more jail time. I am also really benefited by knowing that there is God’s will being evidenced in everything. I also can’t take myself so seriously either. I can play my role, but at the end of the day God has a greater plan, and I want to help the inmates get into the place where they can change.
[Radix] Can I ask what some of the bits of wisdom you give to them are?
[Ilkka] One that I have found very useful is from Jordan Peterson: “Compare yourself to who you were yesterday.” It sounds simplistic, but because everyone comes from such a diverse background, they can’t effectively compare themselves to the guards or me or others. If they compare themselves with what they were yesterday, then that small change they incorporated today would suddenly not be so small, instead of comparing that change with the totality of their lives. This goes for all of us. If we make a small change and compare ourselves to who we were yesterday, that little bit of improvement is noticeable. And that’s very helpful.
[Radix] We are all facilitated by our faith, I think. It’s a large question I am asking, but can you share a little of your faith?
[Ilkka] In my prison I am expected to help people in a very large spiritual role, so while I am a Catholic Christian, I am responsible to help people in any faith setting. I don’t mind it though. I really do believe Paul’s admonition in 1 Cor 9:22 to be all things to all people. I would say that I appreciate the changes of Vatican II. There are a variety of beliefs within Christianity, but for the Catholics there is a very large place made for the responsibility we have to our conscience. Ultimately, at the end of the day, it’s only through Christ that we were saved at all, whether we’re believers or not. And so this for me is important, because I know that even when I’m helping a Muslim inmate with coming closer to Allah in his own understanding, I believe I’m still doing God’s will as a Catholic. Which I think is very freeing in a lot of ways because I know that I can show them the love that I’ve been given by Christ, but I’m not there to deny them their religious rights. So if someone greets me with salaam aleikum, an Islamic greeting for peace, I try to respond with the traditional reply, wa alaikum assalam, peace with you. It’s more of an Arabic cultural thing than, say, a religious thing, but it does go into the religious part as well. So I believe that doing something like that is a good thing. Well, I believe that that’s Christ working through me and welcoming them to the Father.
I also tell all my guys that there is a “you-sized hole in the world,” and that means that God allows us to participate in the world and to be part of his work. He works in and through us. We aren’t needed, per se, and yet we are needed because there is an essential thing unique to each of us. We get to participate in his work in the world.
[Radix] My, my. Yes, we get to participate. May we all be given grace to do it better. Well, thank you so much for sharing with us your valued thoughts and reflections. This has been a real pleasure.