Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, August 13, 1995 TAG: 9508140041
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ELLEN NAKASHIMA THE WASHINGTON POST
DATELINE: STAFFORD LENGTH: Medium
Benjamin Ragland heaves open a gray steel locker, removes his box of pastel pencils and begins to sketch. His short, fine strokes carry him into another place and time, away from the prison bars and razor wire that circumscribe his world.
A convicted embezzler, Ragland uses art to heal his soul.
``It has kept me sane,'' said the short, soft-spoken Ragland - inmate No. 198450 at Stafford Correctional Unit. ``It takes me out of this environment.''
Ragland and a growing number of inmates here and around the world are turning their prison cells into art studios. They have stolen, robbed and killed. But they firmly believe that through art, and faith, they can begin the process of redemption.
This week, 75 artists from 24 countries, including Ragland, have their work displayed in the Fifth International Prisoners' Art Competition at the Hyatt Regency in Crystal City.
The contest is part of a convocation of prison outreach workers and volunteers sponsored by the Reston-based Prison Fellowship, a nonprofit organization ministering to the needs of inmates, their families and victims.
``A lot of times, these people have been through some really tough experiences,'' said Prison Fellowship founder Charles W. Colson, the former special White House counsel who spent 61/2 months in prison for his role in the Watergate scandal. ``They have a level of compassion and understanding of hurt that makes them great contributors to a more civil community.''
Colson, who has been to more than 600 prisons in 47 countries, said there's a lot of art going on. ``It probably ranks right behind weightlifting in prisons,'' he said.
On one wall of this week's art show is an oil painting of a Native American boy, gripping a reservation fence and staring into the distance. On another wall is the oil portrait of a gray-haired prisoner, slumped over in a wheelchair, hands clasped between his legs.
Shackles, prison bars and crosses abound as motifs in the exhibit, as inmates try to convey both their isolation and a faith in God.
Ragland's entry is an oil study of a former inmate buddy, J.J., at Pulaski Correctional Unit in Dublin. Prison bars are reflected in the inmate's glasses, hiding his eyes. He holds an open Bible in his hands.
``Peace,'' said Ragland, is the portrait's message. ``Instead of the turmoil he was in, he's at peace.''
Ragland, 44, spends hours at his prison worktable. ``I don't let the bars get to me,'' he said, smudging gray onto the portrait he is finishing. ``While I'm doing this, I'm not here.''
Ragland has spent four years in prison and faces 18 more. He gave up an art career to become a representative for a national marketing company. Soon he was living the high life.
He had a silver Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, a Ford Bronco, a motor home and a ranch house on an 11-acre lot in central Virginia, not to mention a satellite dish for his three color TV sets.
Then the debts mounted. His wife became ill. And he began to use other people's money to pay his bills. In 1991, he was convicted of bilking clients out of $42,000.
``I knew it was illegal,'' he said. ``I look back and think what a dumb thing to do, but I was looking for an easy way out, and there was none.''
When he was first locked up, he was angry and bitter. But a man doing prison ministry helped him find inner peace., and all of a sudden, ``the troubles I was in on Earth just didn't matter anymore.''
His marriage is over; he rarely sees his two daughters, ages 9 and 11; and he still must repay his former clients. But, he likes to say, ``the thing that causes you the most pain, the most sorrow and the most heartache becomes your greatest teacher.''
If he gets out anytime soon, he said, he'll work for a friend doing construction so he can repay his debts. Until then, he has his pastels and his dreams. ``Art is a way of life,'' he said. ``As long as I have my art, I could be in a cave or in here. It doesn't matter. I'd be just as happy.''
by CNB