From the heart: Art by girls behind bars

By Brenna Wiegand

Several artists featured at Lunaria Gallery this month were unable to attend its opening. They are behind bars. But their work speaks volumes and opens the doors to understanding the struggles they face.

Nine young women housed at Oak Creek Youth Correctional Facility in Albany took part in the “art+poetry” program sponsored by the At-Risk Youth Art Education program of the Arts Center of Corvallis.

Their show occupies a wall in the Lunaria Loft, a more private viewing spot. Artist Paul Jenkins of Lunaria calls it edgy and consequential – “It’s real people.”

“If you were in New York you would expect to see these types of concerns represented in galleries,” Jenkins said. “It’s unique that it’s happening in a rural gallery. I like the idea and we’ll just have to see how it is received.”

The 10-week project was led by Salem poetry instructor Cheryl Creel and Silverton photographer/graphic artist Barry Shapiro. It resulted in mixed media pieces fraught with the emotional struggles, dreams, and the questions of teens who’ve had it tougher than most.

Shapiro is no stranger to such projects. He has devoted time to other teaching opportunities, such as giving photography lessons at Oak Creek.

“These are beautiful and powerful images and words that tell us about these young women who are struggling to change their lives,” said Cheryl French of the Arts Center.

“Making art gives these children and young people the experience of looking closely at themselves and their world, and expressing their thoughts and feelings about those observations. It can be transformative.”

The program brings teaching artists into low income schools, youth drug and alcohol treatment programs and correctional facilities. It is funded through membership support, grants and donations.

Unlike the more reluctant boys he worked with at Hillcrest Youth Correctional Facility when the program was beginning, Shapiro said the girls dove into the project with gusto.

“It’s a very emotional process and they really put themselves out there,” Shapiro said. “The ones I’ve met had so much going against them before they even did anything wrong; they have a lot to overcome. One girl I worked with didn’t know how to read or write until she went to prison. It’s really hard not to get emotionally involved.”

Sole proprietor of Leaping Dog Marketing in Silverton, Shapiro took on the creation of a book of the art produced, finding venues for the exhibit and getting the word out.

He got involved with gang intervention while living in Los Angeles. Once in Oregon, he began teaching at Highland Elementary in Salem and was shocked to see 10-year-old girls flashing gang signs. He got to work.

“You’ll be blown away by the show; some of it is pretty remarkable stuff – they don’t hold back,” he said. “I see transformation; I really do. It’s small stuff, but you know, I go home afterward; they stay in prison. I can only hope there are some long term effects of being able to release these feelings … this is their lives.”

One young poet, Precious Anderson, came to represent the fragile nature of these girls with tough lives. She took her life July 3, a week after being transferred to Coffee Creek, the adult female facility. Thankfully, Shapiro said, her poignant art survives.

“Her poem – of all of them – is the most open about her personal struggles, I think,” Lunaria artist Ann Altman said.

“I know she was troubled; there was a lot of darkness in her life,” Shapiro said, “but her smile could light up the room.”

He said Precious had been in 20 different foster homes before she was 6.

“My daddy’s home!
Her mom’s got a new mister.
Forever I’m in this devil’s grace,
I dance and laugh in this lonesome space…”

The show is dedicated to Precious, Shapiro said.

Another one of the girls Shapiro worked with was 16-year-old Breanna, who was on her second stay at Oak Creek.

“I have been writing poetry since I was 9 years old,” Breanna said. “It’s the best way to express myself that I can possibly imagine. I can get all my feelings and emotions out without trying to explain to somebody how I’m feeling.

“A poem of just four lines can go as deep as the heart,” she said. “I have one called Crystal Meth and it’s about everything that happened while I was out, but it goes deeper than what was explained.”

She has plans for college and wants to pursue either culinary arts, nursing or criminal justice – a system she says is “broken.”

“…Like having girls who come to Oak Creek on a runaway charge who are here for nine months, while some girls with higher charges leave in a matter of two to three weeks.”

“I’ve been in the law for about five or six years,” she said. “I know what happens when they’re in the system.”

Breanna started doing drugs when she was 11 and was arrested at 12. She went from cigarettes to alcohol, from weed to pills. She says she’s been in detention maybe 18-20 times.

“I just recently tried doing meth and everything went downhill from there,” she said. But, rising from the ashes, she produced about 15 poems during the 10 week program.

For Britney, it’s her third stay, meaning at 18, she’s been “at risk” more than half her life.

“I smoked my first cigarette when I was 8; I started smoking weed when I was 9,” Britney said. “I started smoking cocaine when I was 10 and started the meth at 12. My dad’s was in prison for much of my life. My mom was never really a mom to me – ever. I could pretty much do what I wanted. Pretty much I was in treatment centers or on the streets. I lived in a couple foster homes.

“I picked up a pen when I was 7 and I started writing kind of a journal. My teacher encouraged me to make it into a poem.” Now, the poems just come to her.

“They come from the heart but I don’t know what I’m going to write until the end. I hope my poetry makes somebody’s heart feel full and a little more whole.”