Editor’s note: The criminal records of juveniles are not public in Maine. The story does not use last names, ages, hometowns, the crimes for which the juveniles were convicted nor the length of their sentences.

SOUTH PORTLAND – Juliet, clad in pink chiffon, mumbled to herself as she practiced her lines, occasionally glancing at the dog-eared script clutched to her chest.

Behind her, Romeo perched on the edge of a chair, staring into space. His left leg jiggled to a beat only he could hear as he nibbled on a fingernail.

Their pre-show contemplations were interrupted abruptly when the Prince of Verona strode across the room, his cape flowing behind him.

“What?” he shouted, practicing a line. “On pain of torture from those bloody hands, throw your cheap weapons to the ground.”

It looked and sounded like opening night jitters before one of the thousands of high school productions of “Romeo and Juliet” performed every year. After the lights dimmed and the applause died for this one, however, the players didn’t return home to instant message their costars and relive every tragic and triumphant moment.

The cast that performed in this adaptation of the Bard of Avon’s tragedy went back to their units at Long Creek Youth Development Center, where they were locked down until morning.

For the past two years, Caitlin Shetterly, 31, of Portland has taught Shakespeare at the state’s juvenile detention center in southern Maine, which houses 193 males and 18 females convicted of breaking the law before they turned 18.

Completed in 2002 at a cost of $34 million, Long Creek serves juveniles from the state’s six southernmost counties. It is located on 40 acres that abuts the Portland Jetport and Interstate 295 in South Portland. The new facility was constructed to replace the Maine Youth Center, which came under fire in the 1990s for its inadequate school program and inhumane use of restraints and isolation.

Long Creek, like its counterpart Mountain View Development Center in Charleston, has housing, school and treatment programs under a single roof.

When Long Creek opened, administrators said the focus would be on rehabilitation rather than punishment.

Shakespeare fits that vision, Shetterly said, pointing out that what began two years ago as a pilot program to teach a few acting classes quickly evolved into a monthlong study of one of William Shakespeare’s plays. The workshop culminates in a performance attended by inmates, their family members and staff that combines the words written by Shakespeare and incarcerated youth. It appears to be the only program of its kind in the country.

Earlier this year, seven boys and one girl wrote and performed in “A Hip-Hop Romeo and Juliet,” an hourlong version of the Bard of Avon’s teen tragedy that updated many of the playwright’s most quoted lines. Nearly everyone who works and is housed at the institution and members of the actors’ families attended the performance in the gym. After the show, the performers got a lot of positive feedback from their peers, teachers and guards, Shetterly said.

Shakespeare works well for the young inmates, who range in age from 11 to 21, according to Shetterly, because the situations described and emotions expressed by his characters are immense and, sometimes, overwhelming – the way many of them have experienced life.

“Teaching Shakespeare to the youths at Long Creek is hands-on change,” she said. “We have seen boys – who at the beginning of a session can barely read or write – memorize and perform Shakespeare. We have seen them work through complicated emotions from within the safe place of acting, and finally laugh or smile for the first time since coming to Long Creek.”

‘More than just criminals’

While it may sound like a cliche, Shetterly, who often doesn’t know what circumstances brought her actors to the facility, said that she literally has seen dreams set free and hearts transformed.

“Boys think they can be more than just criminals, more than just dropouts, more than just druggies,” she said. “All of a sudden, they are actors, writers, readers of Shakespeare, costume designers, set designers and celebrities.”

Ed O’Connor runs the furlough program at Long Creek and acts as a liaison between Shetterly and other officials. He also has seen changes in the behavior of the inmates who have participated in the workshops.

“It gives them the opportunity to experience things in life they normally wouldn’t and to express emotions and feelings in a positive way,” he said. “It also offers them the opportunity to expand their horizons in a risk-free environment in a way they haven’t done before in their own lives.”

That was the most difficult part of playing Romeo, said Adam, who sought out the role.

“The hardest thing,” he said, “has been going out of my comfort zone to do things like crying and expressing my emotions. But Romeo is such a cool character, it was worth it.”

Tim Collins, 28, formerly of Belfast, in March co-directed the inmates’ script, “A Hip-Hop Romeo and Juliet.” Best known for his one-man shows about the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks and their aftermath, the actor-writer now lives in Chicago.

He is one of several male co-directors with whom Shetterly collaborates so the boys at Long Creek have a male role model.

Collins believes that no matter which of the Bard’s productions is being performed, the play is not what’s really important.

“It’s not about the play,” he said. “It’s about the kids perceiving themselves in ways they have not had a chance to before. The play is secondary. The development of the kids’ sense of their own selves is primary.”

O’Connor agreed.

“The kids that go to Caitlin’s class tend to be some of the most difficult individuals here,” he said. “In the past, some have been involved in some pretty violent or destructive behavior and with alcohol and drugs. The experience [of being a part of the play] has opened them up to seeing that there are more possibilities for their lives.”

Simply seeing the production through the reading and rehearsal process to the curtain call is a major accomplishment for many of the participants, Collins said.

“It’s a paradigm shift for these kids,” he said, “it changes the way they understand themselves in the world. They see themselves, I think, more as empowered people who can do things, who can finish and complete things with skill and grace.”

Matt, who played Benvolio and Paris, agreed.

“The hardest part was getting up and coming every day,” he said. “Being committed – it’s hard work.”

For Arien, who had three parts, being in the play was something to do and a way to stay out of trouble.

“I like to stay out of trouble,” he said.The toughest part of working at the facility, according to Collins, is staying upbeat.

“The challenge with maintaining this optimistic presence is that Long Creek is an intense environment full of doors and alarms and guards and angry, sad kids,” he said. “It is a constant struggle to bring the best of yourself in to share with these incarcerated teens, but you must. You have to bring them hope. Why else go into a prison?”

Since she began working with the young people at Long Creek, Shetterly said that she has seen how the experience of creating and performing a play has carried over into other aspects of the inmates’ lives inside the youth center.

“One kid, just in one short month, has changed so much,” Shetterly said. “He’s gone from being class clown to being much more of a leader. After being involved in the program, many of them take on more leadership roles at the center because their confidence is higher.”

Shetterly, whose father is the painter Robert Shetterly of Brooksville, understands firsthand the transformative power of the arts. She grew up in Maine and graduated from George Stevens Academy in Blue Hill. Shetterly earned her bachelor’s degree in theater from Brown University before moving to New York, where she worked as a producer for National Public Radio.

She returned to her native state four years ago and founded the Winter Harbor Theatre Company, which operates the Long Creek program. The drama workshops are offered through the institution’s school literature program and students earn credit for it, according to O’Connor.

The monthlong workshops do not cost Long Creek anything but time. So far, Shetterly has raised the $11,000 it costs to pay her and an assistant, such as Collins, as well as to copy scripts and buy costumes and props for each play from grants and individuals.

The Maine Arts Commission and the Maine Humanities Council provided funding for “Romeo and Juliet,” “Othello” and previous workshops. So far, Shetterly has raised $7,500 from the commission toward the cost of doing “Julius Caesar” in the fall.

At least one performance of “Julius Caesar” could be presented at the St. Lawrence Arts Center on Munjoy Hill in Portland, if concerns about security can be addressed, O’Connor said.

Lasting impact unclear

Shakespeare programs in adult prisons have flourished over the past few years due to the attention garnered by a program in Kentucky prisons, but there are less than a handful in juvenile facilities. Founded in 1995 by the Kentucky Shakespeare Festival, the program in that state is held at the Luther Luckett Correctional Complex, a medium-security facility, in LaGrange, Ky.

A documentary, “Shakespeare Behind Bars,” chronicled the yearlong rehearsal period at the facility that culminated with an all-male production of “The Tempest” in 2003. Released last year, the film has won 10 national awards and has been screened at 24 film festivals around the world. Hank Rogerson and Jilann Spitzmiller’s documentary was one of 16 documentaries screened at the 2005 Sundance Film Festival. It was released in August on DVD. Similar Shakespearean programs are being done in adult prisons in at least a dozen states including Wisconsin, Missouri, Massachusetts and Michigan.

Shetterly’s program for juveniles, however, may be the only one of its kind in the nation – even though the U.S. Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency and Prevention has stated that arts and media programs teach young inmates qualities such as “responsiveness to others, empathy, caring, communication, problem-solving skills, a sense of identity and self-worth and a sense of purpose and future.”

Grady Hillman, a researcher who has studied the prison system for more than 20 years, said in a 2002 interview that a 1998 study at the University of Washington documented a 50 percent drop in recidivism in arts program participants at a maximum-security facility for youth.

“What we find among youth at all the facilities is … a 70 to 90 percent drop in the incidence rates of misbehavior within institutions when kids are involved in these programs,” he said.

Agnes Wilcox, director of the Prison Performing Arts program, based in St. Louis, teaches acting at two juvenile detention centers in the city, but they do not tackle performances of Shakespeare’s plays. Wilcox’s 15-year-old nonprofit organization also allows youth in detention to see performances by professional dancers, actors, musicians, opera singers and storytellers, and provides the young people with opportunities to question the performers.

Prison performing arts programs, Wilson has said, improves self-esteem, literacy, communication skills and the behavior of the prisoners who participate.

“Most inmates return to society,” Wilcox told a St. Louis newspaper two years ago. “The question is: How do you want them back?”

While stories about the positive effects of theater and other creative arts programs in prisons abound, no definitive study has been published and widely circulated on how or whether such programs affect recidivism rates for adults or juveniles.

The likelihood that a juvenile convicted in Maine will re-offend during the first year after his or her first offense is 17 percent, according to a report published in December. That figure, however, doubled to 34 percent three years after the first offense.

While all the young people involved in Shetterly’s program swear they won’t be in legal trouble again after their release, only time will tell if they beat the statistical odds. At least one participant has been inspired to attend college and pursue acting as a career, O’Connor said.

Others have gotten involved in the program at Long Creek for the same reason students and adults around the world have succumbed to the lure of the stage.

“I love being the center of attention,” said Melissa, who played Juliet. “I’ve always been interested in acting and drama, I’ve just never had the opportunity before.”

“I got to be myself as Juliet,” she said.

That, according to Shetterly, is the real goal of the program – helping young inmates discover who they are by being someone else.

Matt leaps through the air during a rehearsal of “A Hip-Hop Romeo and Juliet.”