Organic farmer, counselor, woodworker, musician, Blase Provitola doesn’t know how to describe himself. But he knows he has loved service work, and trees, ever since childhood. When he was first introduced to the idea of working with men in prison, he thought, “Why would you do that?” Then he asked himself, “Well, why not?”.
Blase Provitola. (Photo by Tim Clark)
I grew up in a relatively large family. I have five brothers, I am the oldest. My dad was a schoolteacher, football coach, always worked a third job. And my mom was a professional softball player. My dad would always take homeless people in, and they would sleep in our basement until they could get back on their feet again. Somehow that had an indelible effect on me as I grew older.
I have a small nonprofit called Mens-work Inc., and I created a 12-week men’s program working in local prisons. The courses are about developing and understanding how to become more responsible, how to become non-violent as a male, and how to function in your life in a way that’s productive. You know—that is not dominant or victim-oriented or going to continue to be a problem in your life.
I can remember every man in my first class and the depth of transparency and sharing, and the amount of heart that was present in the room really affected me in a way that [made me think]: Oh, my God, I love this.
One inmate, in particular, a young man. He was a convicted murderer. He spent a pretty significant chunk of his life in prison, and he was able to totally transform himself in a way that was pretty amazing actually. He was able to get out on his parole hearing, had a book written about him, and is out in the world, making it. He’s one that I think is doing well.
I can talk about another man I know, who will never get out of prison, who is older, and committed a really pretty violent crime. And he was an educated, white male who didn’t grow up in a tough neighborhood, wasn’t a gang banger, and has decided to spend the rest of his life in prison helping other people. And he has been able to, since the time I’ve known him, really take responsibility for himself.
I do a lot of service work [like this], working with people in recovery. I’ve been doing [Menswork Inc.] for the last 22 years.
I’m also a woodworker. Wood is dear to my heart—and trees. As a kid I always loved trees. I loved the hardest trees to climb. As I grew older, I had this real fascination with wood, from a carpentry standpoint. [A tree is] just this amazing being that does so many different things for us, and I feel in working with wood, that actually keeps the spirit of the tree alive.
Where I live on the farm, [we had] this big elm tree, beautiful elm. And about six, seven years ago, it died of Dutch Elm disease like most of the elms you’ll notice around town. When they were cutting the tree down, I was devastated. And I finally went out and I asked the tree people: I want the saw logs, and they didn’t want to give them to me. [But then] they ended up putting all the saw logs behind the orchard. I took all that material and I designed this beautiful kitchen that I’ve been installing the last couple of years at the farmhouse. And here is this tree that now graces our kitchen. It’s sort of an ode to the old elm..
Sophia Zhou at last month’s Report for Harvard student workshop led by Cara Solomon. (Photo by Tim Clark).
Blase Provitola was interviewed by Bromfield sophomore Sophia Zhou at last month’s Report for Harvard workshop. The interview was transcribed by Val Hurley, and Patty Mahoney assisted Sophia in preparing the transcript for publication. The transcript has been edited for length and for clarity. Report for Harvard is a project of the Harvard Press and was made possible by the generous support of Rollstone Bank and the Harvard Schools Trust..
