In commemoration of 100 years working inside prisons (1915-2015), the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) collaborated with artist Benjamin M. Betsalel on an portrait project for an awareness campaign: “Human Beings, Inside and Outside.” With ICRC’s support, Betsalel gained access to three prisons across Colombia to offer self-portrait workshops for detainees and to create a series of portrait vignettes of detainees, their corresponding family members, as well as two portraits of one prison guard.
Within this framework, the project offers a window into the lives of people who are in prison and explores the effect incarceration has on their family members. Whether inside or outside prison, the value of dignity prevails.
Each subject is represented by three elements: narrative (crafted from interview with subject) portrait (charcoal and acrylic on 48 x 60 in./ 122 x 152 cm. canvas), and object of importance (chosen by the subject and artist together). The title of each portrait vignette states the name of the detainee or corresponding family member and the date their incarceration began. To protect the identity of participants, some of the dates and names have been changed.
inside/outside Florencia, Caquita
María, inside Since April 14, 2014
charcoal and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
object: Book Tools for Defending Women Against Violence Inside and Outside of the Armed Conflict
I am a mother, a head of family. For this reason, I’m interested in knowing about the rights of women and of victims. In a red zone you are caught in the middle: if you talk to one side, you are treated as an informant; if you talk to the other, you’re seen as a rebel.
There was an attack and I was accused of giving information that led to the attack. I was arrested and have been inside ever since. My youngest son doesn’t even know I am here. When we talk on the phone I try to be strong, though I can hardly speak.
Jaime, son of María inside since April 14, 2014
charcoal on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
object: mother’s bracelet
My mom gave me this bracelet her first week in prison. She told me to wear it and never take it off because she wants it back when she gets out. Her story is complicated and sad, but she’s never stopped being there for me.
One morning there was a strong knock at the door. My mom was out. Men stormed the house and began going through everything. They wouldn’t tell us where she was or what was happening.
That week our family fell apart. My sister stopped communicating with us, I lost my job, my girlfriend left me. It was a dark time. I remember standing outside staring at the door to our house—I couldn’t bring myself to go in.
Soon after that, I left my town and came to live closer to my mom, so that I could visit her as much as possible. It was hard to find work in order to live here but, for family, one always finds a solution.
César, inside since January 13, 2013
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
I used to work for the police. After constructing a career and a good reputation for 15 years, I committed an error that changed my life. Ever since I lost my liberty I have kept myself busy studying. Despite everything, it has been a profound learning experience at many levels. I have a wonderful family who have forgiven my mistake. I am so thankful for their support. It has been an important process for all of us, one that I try to carry with dignity.
Inside I have learned a lot about human rights. When I get out I would like to study law and help people who are caught in the system. My eyes are open; I have seen so many things that can be improved upon, that could be changed for the better. My mom and her husband have moved nearby to take care of my baby. It is very hard because I can only see her once a month. I did not envision that my daughter’s childhood would be like this, like mine, without her mom and dad. It is ok though, I know her grandparents will give her lots of love, just as my grandparents did for me. One thing I have learned is that we all make errors that can affect everyone in our lives. It is hard being in here, knowing that my daughter is also paying for my mistake. Confronting this has been hard, but this place can teach you a lot because you don’t have your family. Inside, one must learn to see life in another way.
Nora, wife of César, inside since January 13, 2013
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Every Sunday at four in the morning I leave the house to go to the prison. I stand in line to receive a visitation stamp on my arm. It is difficult to go through the gates: each locked door takes a little more of my energy. There is a saying that women go in all dressed up and come out looking like a piece of trash. But I don’t break down: I try to be patient, calm, and non-judgmental. It has taken some time to get used to it all, but now there are several guards who I can talk to and who treat me with respect.
In many ways, this has been a good experience for César and me. Our relationship has somehow grown inside prison. Values such as love, trust, commitment, and faith have been put to the test and we have learned a lot about ourselves and about each other. On the surface it may not look great, but the simple fact of loosing freedom has made us question what it means to be free.
Vivian, inside since February 19, 2015
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Vivian, inside since February 19, 2015
When I was young my mom wasn’t around and I was raised by my grandparents and uncle. When my grandpa died, I moved away. I heard a friend of mine had been locked up, so I went to visit him. We fell in love. I had a daughter and then I made the biggest mistake of my life: he convinced me to bring things into the prison for him, and I was caught.
Now my mom and her husband live nearby to take care of my baby girl. It is very hard because I can only see her once a month. I did not envision that my daughter’s childhood would be like this, like mine, without her mom and dad. It is ok though, I know her grandparents will give her lots of love, just as my grandparents did for me.
One thing I have learned is that we all make errors. I realize my daughter is also paying for my mistake. My situation affects many people. Confronting this has been hard, but this place can teach you a lot because you don’t have your family. Inside, one must learn to see life in another way.
inside/outside Picota, Bogota
Juan, inside since April 20, 2013
graphite and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
I grew up working the land, but my story is one of chaos. Many years ago I spent time in prison. It was extremely frustrating. My daughter’s 15th birthday was eight days after I was arrested. My wife left me. When someone goes to prison, everyone in the family suffers. It is a double sentence: one person is punished on the inside; their family is punished on the outside.
When I was released, I began to rebuild my life. I met a girl and remarried. Although things were going well, I wanted people to understand the reality of the conflict and how one is often forced to take sides. All of my family members have been displaced. Many have been killed. My brother is a desaparecido, and now I am back inside again.
My wife’s energy is what gives me hope. This, and my work as the human rights representative for my patio. Last week I received a diploma for my work. It makes me feel proud. I only finished the 5th grade, but life teaches you many things.
Bibiana, wife of Juan, outside since April 20th 2013
charcoal and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Juan and I met six years ago. He was selling his business and I was working for the new owner. We became friends, talking and sharing many things. I was finishing nursing school at the time and we were both in relationships.
My ex-boyfriend was abusive and Juan supported me through that difficult time. He too was in an unhealthy relationship and several months after it ended we saw each other again. He told me he was interested in me, but because of our age difference I thought we should just stay friends.
I took some time to reflected on the situation. I realized what a good person he is and decided to give it a chance. After a year or so together we were married. We lived together for three years before he was arrested. Even though the situation is difficult, I have never once regretted my decision. I have never stopped believing in him.
Luis, inside since December 24, 2007
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Luis, inside since December 24, 2007
I played professional football when I was young but my career was cut short. I was diagnosed with a rare form of skin cancer and was in and out of the hospital for various treatments during the next 10 years. I had to fight for my life and this experience changed my perspective. After I recovered I went to the USA to work. I opened a business selling health products and had some very good years. Then I ran into financial problems and had to move back to Colombia. I went to ask for a loan but was refused. I tried to keep going but soon things began to fall apart. I became frantic. I ran into an old friend who promised to help me out if I did one thing for him. I wasn’t thinking clearly and made a terrible decision. Because of this, I am here.
inside/outside Quibdo, Choco
Dorila, inside since August 13, 2014
charcoal and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
I come from a family of eight children. When I was young I didn’t have the financial ability to continue my education. Years later I tried again. I wanted to be a social worker but had to leave the university after my third semester so my daughter could continue her studies.
My boyfriend and I had been going through a separation and I was really mad. He wanted to break up and it was very hard on me. Its especially hard to find a good relationship when you’re no longer a young woman. I am not an aggressive person but one day the animal inside of me just took over and I attacked him.
I am not mad any more; the past is past. The lesson for me is to think before acting. I will never again make the same mistake. I ask God for another chance of a life on the outside. I hope to one day be able to walk into a room, all dressed up, and turn heads like I used to.
Nathalie, daughter of Dorilla, inside since August 13, 2014
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
My mother’s absence has been tough on our family, but thankfully I haven’t had to stop studying.
I study environmental engineering and work at the university as a young researcher. I see that when one looks at the environment, one must also look at how we interact with it. All environmental problems are associated with human behavior. My main interest is in the connection of water, hydraulic energy, and the environment. I want to help communities improve how they manage their water supply. There is a lot of water here, but people don’t know how to take care of it. We must do what we can to take care of the world—this is how we give thanks to God.
Edwin, inside since June 28, 2014
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
For me, being in here is an especially bad situation because I am no longer around to help my family. I wish I could see them more often but I understand why they can’t visit. The most important is that they have something to eat.
I like studying, art, making things with my hands… I’m a barber, like my father and two of my siblings. Inside prison I cut hair every day except Sunday, when we receive visitors. My dream is to one day open a barbershop with my family—to have a place that is our own.
Francisca, mother of Edwin, inside since June 28, 2014
charcoal on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Edwin is a very good son. He has always treated people well. He is helpful and kind, but now he is locked up and can’t be there for our family like he used to. I miss him in so many ways. I don’t walk well anymore and we are going through a very tough period financially. Life has been more difficult since we were forced to leave the farm. Back then, when we were hungry, we would take a fish from the river and cut down some plantains. Now it is not that simple.
We visit him when possible, but it is difficult because much of the time we don’t have anything to bring him. The hope of people who are in prison is that their family will bring them something nice to eat on Sundays — we don’t want to disappoint him.
Nicolas, prison guard since April 5, 2000 (inside)
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Nicolas, prison guard since April 5, 2000 (outside)
acrylic on canvas, 60 x 48 inches, 2015
Nicolas, prison guard since April 5, 2000
It’s a hard line to walk… The way guards interact with detainees is a complicated topic that has changed in many ways over the years. Now, we are taught about human rights and trained to treat detainees with an attitude of respectful authority. I can see that with better communication, the prison becomes a less violent environment.
I have also noticed that when detainees have the opportunity to study or work, or when their families receive support, it can change their physical and mental health. A lot of frustration comes from not being able to support their families when they are having financially difficulty, and from not having anything productive to with their time inside. I have seen that when this changes, a detainee is more likely to be able to remain calm, to learn and to grow as a person.
What motivates me are the things I can teach to detainees on the inside and to see on the outside the same lessons reflected when they are released. This makes me feel good about my work, the prison system, and the country as a whole.