Portraying the wrongly incarcerated young pachuco “Tommy Roberts” in the original 1979 production of Luis Valdez’ Zoot Suit launched actor Tom Demenkoff’s journey to becoming Director of Arts Education for the New York City Department of Correction. I chatted with my old friend and fellow Zoot Suit castmate about how art can heal and inspire –and why he chose to incorporate my comedy, 57 Chevy, into his enrichment program for his incarcerated students.
CRIS FRANCO (CF): Tommy, how did you come to direct one of the nation’s largest corrections arts education programs?
Tom Demenkoff (TD): After decades of performing, I was introduced to our incarcerated community and was blown away at the number of talented artists behind bars. I had no choice but to accept when then-Commissioner Joseph Ponte asked me to assist in establishing what is now the Fine & Performing Arts Unit within the Programs Division or DOC-Arts.
Our mandate is to provide, and I quote, “A robust, arts education presence within all jails, by maintaining a diverse professional interdisciplinary resident arts faculty, developing support for strong and sustainable community partnerships, and cultivating reentry opportunities for our individuals in custody who wish to pursue their artistic talents and passions upon release.”
Whew! It’s a mouthful but upon this foundation, we have seen participation in our arts programs soar among our individuals in custody.
CF: What in your professional or personal background led you to become the program’s director?
TD: My first bowl of menudo.
Under the direction of Luis Valdez, I was privileged to experience his bold Teatro Campesino-style approach to storytelling. Immersing myself in the pachuco culture was a history lesson and acting master class in one. It forever changed me as an actor and as a human being.
Let me backtrack a little. Born and raised in upstate New York hardly prepared me to play a gritty pachuco in Zoot Suit. I acquired the necessary backbone to play the Anglo surviving in the tough streets of “East Los” from my generous Chicano castmates who instructed me in the nuanced language and legacy of this vibrant Latinx community of the 1940s.
It was during our shared meals between shows on matinee days that my friend and castmate, Miguel Delgado, convinced me to try my first bowl of authentic menudo. Zoot Suit showed me how opening yourself up to other cultures frees you to life’s possibilities. I was also greatly influenced by my mother, Janette Demenkoff. Mom was an activist and inspiring educator who championed literacy in public schools and launched the first national Missing Children’s Non-Profit: Child Find.
CF: Props to your mom. What is your average day like?
TD: Every morning, between 5:00-5:30am I head out to my office on Rikers Island. After that, every day is different: I engage with community partners, theater companies, musicians and educators to plan and promote concerts, classes and conversations that will take place within our jail facilities.
I make daily visits to jail housing areas, meet one-on-one with students or lead groups in theater, music, dance or creative writing workshops. One day we might bring in the thrilling Chelsea Symphony, meet a Law & Order cast member, or read a Greek play. Sometimes it’s just me leading a group in a poetry slam fest. The mix of what I get to do is what I love most. I often end my workday in a housing unit with my students freestyling to beats, laughing and dancing.
CF: It sounds like an episode of Fame.
TD: (SINGING) I’m gonna live forever!
CF: Can you recount any moments that illustrate how your program has benefited members of the incarcerated population?
TD: There are so many inspiring stories from inside. Like when one detainee told me, “Thank you for allowing me to feel freedom today,” simply because I helped him write a haiku. Our men performed Othello for an invited audience and afterward one of the performers told me, “If I had found out how much I loved acting before I got here, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be on TV—and that’s a fact!”
Most memorable was at the Los Angeles County Jail where I was privileged to introduce a large group of women to Maya Angelou—for the first time! Wow. Or introducing someone to the writings of Pablo Neruda, Gil Scott-Heron, Nikki Giovanni or Amanda Gorman—and seeing the wave of enlightenment wash over them as their words are devoured off the page.
A student who’d been isolated for an extended period of time expressed to me how much he hated our country’s national anthem. I just listened and then asked him to write a new one. He did, and I surprised him by bringing in 16 vocalists from New York City’s historic Cantori Chorus to sing his version live for him outside his cell door. He got on the phone, called his mom and had the chorus do an encore for her to hear. With daily experiences like these, my “average” days are always way above average.
CF: What are the challenges of running an arts school in a jail?
TD: Many. But we keep our creative options open and transform any available space into a theater, dance studio or writer’s lab. This reinforces what we teach our students: that anyone can create art anywhere at any time. It’s empowering for students on the inside to know that artists can own their space and their work.
CF: Tommy, this sounds revolutionary. Is this program considered controversial?
TD: I have certainly heard the word “controversial” tossed about when referring to what I do. I think what we really are was best described when COVID-19 hit and I was informed that my unit was classified as essential workers. That moment was huge for me and my arts team. We ran with it. So, “essential” is more like it! And if that’s controversial, I gladly welcome the debate.
CF: Tell me about the program that allows your incarcerated students to borrow electronic tablets to view approved programming.
TD: When COVID-19 first took hold, tablets became our go-to platform and we amassed over 1,000 hours of original programming. Some came from our portfolio of solo artists and non-profit organizations like The Public Theater, Carnegie Hall and Lincoln Center. But many came from simply asking for content. And, the answer was almost always yes!
CF: What type of streaming programs are provided to your students?
TD: There is a wide selection of programming: social services, reentry information, law library resources, and high school and college courses, movies, games and arts enrichment programming. What we have developed are courses for all our providers to sustain the presence they had before COVID-19, and now, as we return to normal, this content remains as our arts education resource library.
CF: What do you hope they’ll get out of their exposure to arts programming?
TD: We try to not impose outcomes on our students, rather we promote positive engagement, create an environment where students can take something we’re offering and turn it into their own, something meaningful to them. That occurs almost daily. So, we’re about setting up the conditions for these moments to occur. That’s when the workshop soars and the room shifts, deepening the experience. The results support the fact that the arts have nothing to do with why anyone is here, but everything to do with who they are. That’s become my mantra.
Our popular hip-hop sessions allow for uninhibited free-styling and improvised percussion. The atmosphere transforms a jail into a living room listening party where we’re discussing how Tupac was a fan of Shakespeare. What? Yes! We observe how The Bard employed percussive language to grab the listener’s ear. Words have an intrinsic musicality to them. Words are valuable!
CF: Speaking of language, what percentage of your students are Spanish speakers?
TD: Approximately 33%, so we try to offer programming that reaches everyone’s cultural interests.
CF: What type of programming is most popular among the population?
TD: Music. So, we present concerts, orchestras, choruses, soloists and small ensembles. On the tablets, The Right Now Project offers an eclectic collection of international artists featuring performances, conversations and mindful meditation videos. We also offer creative writing at every level, nurturing poets, novelists, lyricists and playwrights. Playwright, and fellow Zoot Suit castmate, Evelina Fernández, allowed us to stream her yearly holiday pageant La Virgen de Guadalupe presented by the Latino Theater Company. It was very well received. Our drawing and crafting programs bring our facilities alive with beautiful murals. And of course, comedies are popular.
CF: I was so complimented when you requested to include 57 Chevy into your programming.
TD: When I heard that you’d turned your true-life boyhood stories about you, your dad and his beloved classic car into a play I knew it would be a wonderful offering for our students and that it would be funny. And funny works in jail. Really. And as evidenced by the many glowing responses we saw on its initial roll out, 57 Chevy is a winner!
CF: 57 Chevy is such a wholesome valentine to the immigrant experience, I’m glad the students are enjoying the show’s positive message.
TD: I chose to present 57 Chevy because it’s about familia. Familia is a major topic when you’re in jail. People in custody are always seeking ways to connect to those waiting for them on the outside. Because 57 Chevy provides a light-hearted look at a normal family, it offers a natural segue into discussions about the humor in normal everyday life. (Which is what all of my students hope for—a normal everyday life.) I’ve noticed that, after screening your play, incarcerated folks continue to talk about it. They howl at Ric Salinas’ LOL performance. It transforms the jail into a comedy club because 57 Chevy is pure theater and the magic of theater works—even in jail.
CF: Wow. That is like the best review I’ve ever gotten. Thank you. How do you feel being part of this program has impacted your understanding of how creativity impacts our humanity?
TD: Okay, time to get really real. For the good part of my early career I was your typical self-absorbed actor. I had my share of successes, enjoyed the trappings that came with it— and wanted more. I allowed these rewards that were dangled in front of me to cloud my vision for so long that I forgot that I had set out to have a purpose in life. Sharing my acquired skills with those in jail was the dramatic change I needed.
This vocation calls upon me daily to employ all the skills I’ve developed as an artist and share them. Freely. And then invite opinions. Ask questions about it all. Stir up debates. The provocative nature of the arts invites robust exchanges. So, we have those exchanges. Gloves off. No rules. And even if what comes back at you is not what you expected, it prompted your students to analyze and express themselves. And that, at the end of the day, is a winning program.
CF: What advice do you have to those educators interested in bringing arts to disadvantaged or disenfranchised communities?
TD: I was fortunate that in the 1970s, while performing in the original NYC production of Steven Schwartz’s musical Godspell, I signed up for an outreach event with the cast. I went out to Rikers Island to perform the show. It was my first time in jail and what struck me was how actively the audience interacted with the show. It was jarring at first and then quickly became something more meaningful as we incorporated their commentary right along with the Gospel According to St. Matthew. The audience was so willing to become part of the storytelling. It piqued my interest. So, back to your question.
Um, my advice is to encourage young creatives to take a leap. Go act, write, sing or dance where there is no writing, acting, singing or dancing. Sign-up for all the outreach endeavors your theater company or productions might be involved in. And, if there are none, start one. Or two. Or a dozen. There are so many schools, community centers, museums, hospitals, therapeutic communities and prisons in desperate need of arts programming. Art is a celebration of our humanity through a glorious expression. No school will train you how to do this level of outreach, so work under the guidance of an experienced professional. And don’t be afraid to volunteer. Show up. Soar!
For more information on how you can contribute creative content or develop a partnership with the New York City Department of Correction, write to Tommy Demenkoff via: Programs.Division@doc.nyc.gov
To stream Cris Franco’s new comedy 57 CHEVY log onto www.SDRep.org