This beautiful and moving story begins in a small town in the Dominican Republic called El Rincón de la Soledad, or A Lonely Spot. In this town resides a humble family made up of José Fercarelu (the father), Refugio (the mother), and two sons, Chelo and Ramón....

So begins Act I of The Family Fercarelu, a play produced by my women's ESOL class at the Hampden County Correctional Center last year. When the selfish, abusive José isn't around, explains the narrator, the Fercarelu house is peaceful and harmonious. But when he comes home, it becomes a small hell.

Now Irma C., a diminutive Mexican woman, staggers onto the "stage" wearing a straw hat and an embroidered vest over her orange prison suit. The women scream with laughter as her gray faux-fur mustache keeps slipping into her mouth. José shouts at the long-suffering Refugio:

Where are you, you good-for-nothing useless person? Is my dinner ready, and my clothes, because I'm going back out with my friends—and with better women, not like you good-for-nothing!

Yudelka R., a level-one student wearing an apron and head scarf, responds:

Here I am, pancho! I was just making dinner. I knew you'd be home soon, and I wanted to have it ready.

These few lines are difficult for Yudelka, who resists speaking English and finds pronunciation challenging. Am comes out ang, and just comes out hoost. Her classmates gently model corrections. The scene continues. José yells at his two sons, then Chelo, the elder, ends the scene with a brief soliloquy:

You are the most despicable man I have ever met.... I'm gonna go very far away from here and make money to help my mother and brother, and I'll leave you to rot in poverty!

I am running the video camera, and a few minutes later I play back the tape. The women hoot with delight. I hear random comments about how they might improve the scene.

A Diverse Group
My women's ESOL class was a small group with widely diverse backgrounds and language competence. The two Yudelkas, both from the Dominican Republic, had come to the facility more than a year earlier with zero English but had taken different paths in language acquisition. Yudelka R., 38, whose education is limited, tended to seek instant translations from her friends, rather than make the effort to learn. Yudelka L., 26, who had completed three years of dental school in the D.R., was bright and driven: Her SPL in English had leapt from 1 to 6; she loved to discuss grammar points, and she sought opportunities to practice English.

Except for Irma C., the others were Puerto Rican. Omayra C., 30, could speak and write rapid, though fractured, English picked up on the streets of New York. Ana Ana F., a 62-year-old great-grandmother was comfortable in English in limited contexts but needed to stretch both her vocabulary and her confidence. Irma, 45—mentor, counselor, and class clown—was the English star until Jacquelyne S. came in partway through the project. Jackie, 31, who is bilingual, enrolled in the class only to work on developmental reading and writing.

It was a constant challenge to design classroom activities that could serve such diverse needs. When a role-play activity went over especially well one Friday, I suggested that the students might enjoy writing and acting out a skit, a little telenovela. A brainstorming session elicited topics around family issues, love relationships, and life in jail.

Budding Playwright
The following Monday, Yudelka L. showed up with a five-act play—in Spanish—that she had written over the weekend. It was called The Family Fercarelu—the name was a composite of the surnames of the class members. It was a morality tale about a Dominican man of humble origins who immigrates to America, becomes a rich and arrogant drug dealer, then finds deep faith while he is incarcerated. Yudelka was telling her own story, but it resonated with all the women in the class.

It's wonderful, but this is English class, I reminded Yudelka. The resourceful playwright then found someone in her living unit who could translate the play into English. A few days later, I found myself with a 23-page handwritten script. It could be a great project-one with enormous potential for learning-but also, I feared, for disappointment. If we took this on, it was essential that we see it through.

Thus began a three-month process that ultimately would build community and trust in the classroom, produce great leaps in language acquisition, and foster much needed self-esteem. We began "rehearsals," taping and correcting, taping and correcting. At first the readings were flat and labored, but as the students became comfortable with the language, they began to use more natural intonation.

Adding "costumes" allowed the women to let go of inhibitions. By taking on new personas, they could take risks; they could sound "English." For security reasons, we couldn't use makeup, and costumes could not be too concealing, so I collected hats, shawls, vests, and jewelry that would suggest various roles. We cut out a lot of mustaches. I brought in two old sheets to cover one wall of the classroom. The women created "scenery" with simple drawings on easel paper, which we taped to the backdrop with each scene change.

For our audience, we invited some staff members from the women's unit to the performance. On the big day, the women were nervous and excited. The play lasted 30 minutes. It wasn't perfect, of course, but the audience cheered. They laughed at the comic antics and grew teary at the right moments. Even if they didn't understand every word, the effect was powerful.

What They Learned
The women worried afterward if they had been good enough. The point, of course, was how they had grown from the experience. Our playwright, who had the demanding lead role, vastly improved her pronunciation; she developed natural rhythm and intonation. The other Yudelka gained self-confidence and comfort using English. After the play, she became more engaged in class and has made remarkable progress.

Ana, the grandma, improved her reading skills. Irma acquired new vocabulary and thrived in her mentoring role. Omayra became more a part of the classroom community. Afterward, she wrote: "I feel so happy everybody work hard in the drama. I never imagine is good experience in the classroom."

Yudelka L. wrote, in part, "Fue como un sueño realizado porque fue algo que salió de mi misma, y ver las personas actuar algo que tu excribiste te da una satisfación muy agradable." [It was like a dream come true because it was something that came out of me, and to see people bring to life something that you wrote gives you great satisfaction.]

I had wondered what Jackie, who really didn't need to learn English, would gain from the project. Her comments spoke for them all: "[This play] gave me the opportunity to share in a different way with the other girls . . . I am proud of participating in this drama because it was totally produced by inmates, and it gave us the opportunity to express one of the ways we become criminals and drug dealers. It's not always because we want to be bad. Sometimes poverty and misery take us to do the wrong choice. But there is always a good side inside of us...."

Iris Broudy teaches ESOL at the Hampden County House of Correction. She can be reached at iris.broudy@sdh.state.ma.us