A Buddhist Chaplain Disrupts Suffering in Rikers Island

By Jennifer Keishin Armstrong

In a small, cinder-block room lit by shards of afternoon sun sneaking in through windows in the ceiling, thirteen jail guards in dark blue uniforms sit quietly on gray plastic chairs. The only sound comes from the blowing fan and the occasional squawk of their handheld walkie-talkie radios. The room is labeled “chapel,” though the only sign of that purpose is…