Imprisonment of A Woman's Soul

These photographs are a documentary project of the women in the Bolivian jail, Centro de Orientación Femenino de Obrajes. With a maximum incarceration of 30 years, these imprisoned women are not entitled to legal assistance.

I was drawn to their lives witnessing first hand their deep well of resiliance and pride. Many of them have children living along side them in cells no bigger than five feet by five feet. Once the children are aged 12, they are out on the street, homeless. Their knitting work empowers them. Pride, humility and strength are reflected in their eyes with an understanding that they are 'locked in,' yet still contributing to the outside world. There are nights when they knit by candle light in order to earn some money for their families and children living beyond the wall of the prison. As I witnessed these women living and working under roofs made of plastic, I was able to hold back my tears of pity and feel instead empowered by their sense of purpose.

It took me several months, many letters and several phone calls seeking permission to photograph them. I had to make sure the captain was on board and supportive of the photo session. I had to write a letter to the director of the departmental penitentiary regime and then I had to get letters from the jail captain and the social worker supporting the project. Signatures from all team members were needed for photo release purposes which were then submitted to the director. It was a daunting process, to say the least.

My camera allows me an intimacy that I can't seem to attain through the written word. In indigenous culture it is believed that part of your soul is lost when a photo is taken and yet, these women allowed me to take their pictures with the understanding that the photos would only be shown outside of Bolivia and there would be no risk that someone might recognize them.

Despite everything, these women have maintained a sense of humor. I had carry on luggage filled with Santo Niño de Atocha candles, the saint for unjustly imprisoned men and women, and stuffed animals for their children. When it emptied, a prisoner by the name of Eulogia, rolled it towards the exit as if she could leave, saying, "Ya me voy con este." "I'm leaving now with this."

As I was getting ready to leave the prison, a young woman named Emiliana, kissed my cheek, then looked into my eyes, soul to soul, and said, "No se van olvidar." "Don't forget us." How could I? As a young child, I witnessed my mother's abuse at the hands of an alcoholic husband. Witnessing this abuse at such a tender age, has made me an advocate of empowering women as an adult. Creating the photos of the women of Centro de Orientación Femenino de Obrajes jail has given me a gift -- the gift of helping others, without fear, which in my life is not only liberating but essential to my own spiritual health and stamina.

As Isabelle Allende said in The House of Spirits: "The poor don't need charity, they need justice."