Episode 124

New Rules: 11 Unlikely Lessons for Activist Artists Navigating MAGA.

What can we learn from artists who survived the chaos of 1980s prisons—and how can their lessons help us resist authoritarianism today?

From the Center for the Study of Art & Community, this is Change the Story / Change the World: A chronicle of art and social change, where artivists share and learn the skills and strategies they need to thrive as creative community leaders. My name is Bill Cleveland. 

As censorship and threats escalate for activist artists and community leaders, navigating today’s polarized world demands more than passion. This episode draws powerful insights from prison arts programs to help creatives and organizers thrive amid rising societal conflict and control.

  • Discover 11 practical rules for building credibility, resilience, and respect in high-stakes, divided environments.
  • Learn why sustained relationships and long-term commitment are the foundation for real, transformative change.
  • Gain essential strategies for navigating us-versus-them traps, telling bold yet responsible stories, and protecting mental health in toxic climates.

Listen now to unlock time-tested survival strategies that can empower your activism, deepen your community work, and sustain your creative mission.

Notable Mentions

1. People

Bill Cleveland: Host of Change the Story, Change the World. Director of the Center for the Study of Art and Community, he draws on decades of experience working with artists in prisons and conflict zones.

Jim Reeves: Author featured in previous episodes, discussed teaching and writing inside prisons.

Noel Raymond: Theater director and cultural leader, spoke about operating arts organizations under political duress.

Vern McKee: Incarcerated artist, president of Vacaville Prison’s Art and Musicians Guilds, who developed the core “Verne’s Rules” that guide arts engagement in high-stakes environments .

2. Events

California’s Arts-in-Corrections Program (1980-90's): A transformative initiative bringing arts education into state prisons during the 1980s, led by Bill Cleveland. A current program under the same name is being operated by the California Arts Council and the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation is carrying on the program

The Troubles (Northern Ireland): A period of political and sectarian conflict (late 1960s–1998) cited for comparison with the U.S. authoritarian climate.

Khmer Rouge Regime (Cambodia): Post-genocide rebuilding efforts included cultural recovery, referenced here as a parallel to U.S. challenges.

Serbia under Slobodan Milošević: Cited as a reference point for understanding repression and the role of art in recovery.

California Prison Lockdowns (1980s): Specific reference to increased suicide and stress during blocked access to arts programs.

3. Organizations

Center for the Study of Art and Community: Producer of the podcast, promotes creative engagement in communities and conflict zones.

Vacaville Prison Art & Musicians Guilds: Peer-led arts guilds operating inside the prison that played a critical role in early prison arts programming.

Freesound.org: Open source sound effects library used for podcast production.

4. Publications/Media

Change the Story, Change the World: The podcast series highlighting activist art and community practice.

The MAGA Machine: A term referencing the political and cultural fallout from the “Make America Great Again” movement, discussed as a rising source of censorship and pressure on arts practitioners.

*****

Change the Story / Change the World is a podcast that chronicles the power of art and community transformation, providing a platform for activist artists to share their experiences and gain the skills and strategies they need to thrive as agents of social change.

Through compelling conversations with artist activists, artivists, and cultural organizers, the podcast explores how art and activism intersect to fuel cultural transformation and drive meaningful change. Guests discuss the challenges and triumphs of community arts, socially engaged art, and creative placemaking, offering insights into artist mentorship, building credibility, and communicating impact.

Episodes delve into the realities of artist isolation, burnout, and funding for artists, while celebrating the role of artists in residence and creative leadership in shaping a more just and inclusive world. Whether you’re an emerging or established artist for social justice, this podcast offers inspiration, practical advice, and a sense of solidarity in the journey toward art and social change.








Transcript
Speaker A:

Hey there, Ponder this. What if the survival skills used by artists in conflict ridden prisons could guide us?

Resistance movements from the center for the Study of Art and Community this is Change the Story, Change the World A chronicle of art and social change where activist artists and cultural organizers share the skills and strategies they need to thrive as creative change agents. My name is Bill Cleveland.

es how unexpected wisdom from:

We'll discover why long term commitment and authentic relationships are more powerful than one time activism. And we'll uncover practical story based rules for sustaining creativity and resilience amid chaos and oppression.

Now, in our last two episodes, we shared insights about the rigors of teaching, writing inside prison and running an arts based social services organization in the midst of fallout from the MAGA machine.

In our conversations, both author Jim Reeves and theater director Noel Raymond talked at length about the skills and strategies you need to successfully navigate adversity and conflict in unfamiliar, change constant environments. Now, a lot of my work over the past three decades has been collaborating with and documenting artists working in similar situations.

And what I've discovered in places like post Khmer Rouge, Cambodia and Serbia under Milosevic, Northern Ireland during the time of the Troubles and San Quentin Prison is that although these art and upheaval stories are each quite different, there's a through line of critical lessons, survival strategies, and practical wisdom that they all share.

Luckily for me, I began my lifelong tutelage in this vital subject matter early on in my time as the head of California's Arts and Corrections Program.

And over the years I've tried to share what I've learned with colleagues working in what some refer to as conflict zones, which I'm sure for most of you brings up images of street fighting, IEDs or desperate refugees somewhere far away from your everyday life. That's certainly been the case for me, at least until recently.

Like many human societies, America has a recurring history of nationalist authoritarian upsurges, many of which have been hidden and or conveniently forgotten. Needless to say, were there again, only this time with less hiding and more chest thumping.

So now I'm hearing from colleagues living in communities across the country who are being threatened, who are fearing for their jobs, their family's safety, even their right to live here based on things they've said or written based on the values and beliefs represented in their work and service to their communities.

Now I have to admit, I never thought that those prison art survival strategies would be relevant for community artists and organizers doing their thing outside in what I considered to be the free world. But it's sad to say, I think there's a lot that's been happening that is starting to translate all too well.

Vengeance, cruelty and fear mongering seem to have become first order policy initiatives. The rule of law is an afterthought and for many on all sides, us versus them have become a way of life.

Unfortunately, I don't think this show is going to close soon and changing that storyline is going to take a lot of work and new ways of thinking. Where are those thought leaders I keep hearing about? But you never know, do you?

In my experience, new ways and ideas sometimes come from some unlikely, old and out of the way places.

stem, which back in the early:

Amidst the chaos, nearly 400 resident artists are interacting with over 10,000 incarcerated artists and staff. Needless to say, it was hard and crazy.

And at Soledad, the paint cart for the mural program was continually getting commandeered as a gurney for shanked inmates.

Because of lockdowns at San Quentin, we were having a hard time getting our artists into condemned row, which in turn led to a lot of increased tension and suicidal behavior by condemned prisoners.

Late in the summer, we started getting desperate calls from wardens down south asking how fast we could put together prison yard concerts so that prisoners could let off steam. Anyway, in the middle of all this, it becomes really clear that we could use all the advice we could get.

The first place we went for technical advice was a guy named Vern McKee. Vern was president of both the art and musicians guilds at Vacaville Prison.

e gave to me in the summer of:

He said that our honeymoon was over and that given the rising tensions in the system, there were a lot of lives at stake with little room for error. Then he shared what I've come to call Verne's rules.

What follows are my rendering of 11 of the core principles he shared for surviving and making a difference in the prison environment, along with my translations for applying each strategy or way of thinking to the pro democracy, anti authoritarian struggle. Here they are. Number one, Dress for success. To be sure, this one seemed a bit odd.

It arose from Verne's perception that the war that was being waged inside was a kind of life and death form of theater. He saw it this way because there was no territory, no spoils, and much of what was being contested was symbolic.

He said this and the fact that most everything about life inside was proscribed meant that costumes meant a lot. He felt that a lot of the artists that were coming in looked like beggars, so no one took them seriously.

He also said that as the guy running the program, I needed to get a haircut and buy a suit. Well, I bought two and went to the barber. And he was right. It made a massive difference.

Now, in:

So showing up unconsciously can undermine trust, and presenting with care and intention can open doors and shift narratives. This is especially true in coalition spaces where careful, thoughtful engagement earns respect. Number two, no fools.

By this, Verne meant no proselytizers, revolutionaries or missionaries with romanticized notions of prisoners or prisons. He pointed out that the most valuable currency in prison is respect.

And when someone from the outside comes in thinking that they have some version of the truth that needs to be delivered to the wretched masses, it was both disrespectful and and dangerous, he said. All the prisoners wanted was talented outsiders who could teach art and make art.

He said the prisoners would decide for themselves how to wield its power. How does Verne's no fools admonition translate to today?

Well, as ever, common ground, trust fueled work requires humility, so it's best to leave your romanticized ideals and savior complexes at the door. Real change stems from the mutual respect mentioned in number one and the recognition that communities are already empowered.

They need partners, not profits. Number three, no hacks.

Now, Verne and his fellow artists expected their artist teacher collaborators to be honest about what they knew and did not know. They said they could recognize and were highly insulted by phonies and fakes.

They made it clear that they wanted the artists coming in to have their artistic shit Together. So today this is a no brainer. As always, integrity is non negotiable. Organizers and artists must bring their best. Not just passion, but also skill.

In a time when credibility is constantly challenged, being deeply prepared and honest about limitations cultivates trust. Number four, know that you don't know where you are.

Verne held that the very fact that we could leave made us visiting earthlings and that unless we had done time, we would never know what it was like to be a Martian. As long as we accepted we were not hearing and seeing things in the same way as those incarcerated artists, we would be okay.

He said that the trouble always starts when outsiders start to think they know where they are. Now, today, operating in the current landscape of chaos and obfuscation, I think we all know that there are no simple paths.

When engaging communities outside your norm, it's important to resist the urge to impose your narrative. When in doubt, just listen, listen, listen. And know that the current authoritarian surge absolutely feeds on misunderstanding.

Solidarity must be based on real lived perspectives. Number five, do your homework.

Despite his contention that we would never know exactly where we were, Verne also believed that it was our obligation to learn as much as we could about the social, cultural and political landscape we were operating in. He also admonished us not to assume that people and places that looked the same were the same. He said everyone has a different story to tell.

Now more than ever, context is everything. Effective coalition building is more than just sharing. It also means understanding the distinct pressures and histories each participant brings.

Generalizing is the enemy of trust and unity.

Speaker B:

Number six.

Speaker A:

Good guys and bad guys are not as obvious as they may seem. Verne believed that the game of survival and the game of life had different rules.

He told me that inside, prisoners and correctional staff alike were all in the survival game and that everybody playing has both good guy cards and bad guy cards that they needed to play in order to survive. He said that outsiders looking through black white lenses were watching the wrong movie, and this made them highly accident prone.

Now, 42 years on, binary thinking is just as prevalent and still a trap. It weakens movements, vastly diminishes strategic options, and most importantly, is an imagination's sinkhole.

To make real change, we need to resist the us versus them straightjacket. Today's resistance requires fluid alliances and understanding that when people play roles in different contexts, it expands all possibilities.

Speaker B:

Number seven.

Speaker A:

Free speech equals rights plus responsibility. Vern McKee lived in an extremely interdependent prisoner culture where everyone was ultimately accountable to everyone else one way or Another.

In such a world, the question was not whether it was right or wrong to falsely shout fire in a crowded theater, but rather, when you know that the theater is burning, how do you communicate that fact so that the people affected don't get burned? So today, if democracy is to survive, messaging, what we say must be both bold and responsible.

In this age of misinformation and culture, war flashpoints how we say things matters as much as what we say. You have to build narratives that inform, inspire and protect.

Speaker B:

Number 8.

Speaker A:

Avoid the tug of war. Now this is a big one. Verne saw prison culture as the outside on steroids with a meth chaser.

The rules and structures of the Caucasian empire that are often more subtle, denied and or ignored by the majority culture on the outside manifest as brute force reality inside for everyone. Given this, different groups are always trying to leverage what little power they have to their own advantage.

The principal strategy for doing this was tricking others into false dichotomies as a way of forcing them into conflict. When the deck is stacked, here's the scene. You're on the yard, there's 10 of them and two of you. An argument ensues.

If your adversary can sucker you into a dichotomous win, lose, I'm right, you're wrong. Tug of war. You will be defeated psychologically and physically every time.

So today, in our current authoritarian inclined landscape, one of the dominant tactics of those in power is to create and exploit false choices. Good versus evil, patriot versus traitor, woke versus traditional.

These binaries force people to pick sides in rigged games where the outcome is already determined.

Activists and artists must resist these setups instead of engaging in binary battles that divide and distract coalition resistance strategy calls for nuance, bridge building and strategic refusal to play by the oppressor's rules. Today, avoiding the tug of war means staying focused on shared values and long term goals, not reactive shouting matches.

It means creating space for complexity, cultivating empathy, and exposing the manipulation behind all those us versus them debates.

When we choose, narrative over noise, connection over contention, and strategy over spectacle, we win by refusing to play a game designed for us to lose. Number nine. No one Night stands.

Verne was adamant that when the power and force of the creative process and imagination was made available to incarcerated citizens, they should not be turned on and left behind.

He said that once a prisoner had become addicted to what he called the creative life force, we all had a moral responsibility to maintain access, in essence, to support the habit. He made it clear that for some it would be a matter of life and Death.

In the current struggle, there is no doubt that long term commitment is not an option. Popping in for a protest or a project and disappearing discredits the work.

Relationships and impact take time, especially when trauma and oppression are daily realities.

Speaker B:

Number 10.

Speaker A:

Places that are chaotic, unpredictable and violent are toxic. Verne made it clear that he and his mates needed creative collaborators who were at their best.

And he suggested that we adopt a kind of battlefield like self care regimen as a standard practice. We did. We created a buddy system with mutual support protocols and regular check ins. And it made a world of difference.

Translation for today, we need to recognize that burnout is real movement, work is grueling. And like toxic environments in prisons, today's political landscape is exhausting.

A culture of mutual care and sustainable practice is revolutionary in itself.

Speaker B:

Number 11.

Speaker A:

You have nothing but your relationships. This was particularly true for prison life, where who you know and who has your back can also be a matter of survival.

So Verne cultivated and nurtured healthy partnerships inside and out. He was a good partner who never promised more than he could deliver and always kept his word. He was also a fine and talented artist.

n the keepers and the kept in:

From cross ideological alliances to deep community ties, trust and reciprocity are the bedrock of any successful resistance. Be dependable and be human.

So as we close, I think it's worthwhile to reflect on how the crucible of conflict, whether in prisons or polarized society, can be a surprising source of of wisdom for those working on the front lines of change. Considering the rough road ahead, here are three things that rose up for me.

First of all, respect and credibility are earned through humility and skill. You just have to show up prepared, listen deeply and let communities lead their own narratives. Next. Long term commitment builds trust.

No getting around that. Real change isn't sparked by one off actions, but through sustained relationship centered work. And finally, narratives matter.

In a world overwhelmed by noise, bold yet responsible storytelling can unite, inspire and protect. Change the story, Change the World is a production of the center for the Study of Art and Community.

Our theme and soundscapes bring forth from from the head, heart and hands of the maestro Judy Munson. Our text editing is by Andre Nebbe.

Our effects come from freesound.org and our inspiration comes from the ever present spirit of ook235 so until next time, stay well, do good, and spread the good word. And once again, please know that this episode has been 100% human.

About the Podcast

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Change the Story / Change the World
A Chronicle of Art & Transformation