SEEING PRISONERS THROUGH A DIFFERENT LENS

Jeff Peck, Virginia

DURING MY fourteen-year tenure at the national nonprofit Prison Fellowship, I had the opportunity to enter prisons of all kinds with the purpose of capturing images of prisoners and ministry. Walking into prison with camera equipment attracts a lot of attention, first from officers searching the gear, then from inmates.

I read once about some primitive tribes who refused to have their photos taken out of fear of having their souls literally captured on film. In prison, I think the fear is exposure. Yes, some already have had their photos on “wanted” posters, but who can blame them for not wishing to be further recognized behind bars? It’s not a high point in life. My own photo albums contain exactly zero images of shame and failure—they’re all smiles with friends, family, pets, and places.

I faced a unique and ongoing challenge in representing through the lens the work inside the prisons. Nonprofit organizations come in many forms: schools, research foundations, child welfare causes, and disaster relief agencies. It’s fairly easy to appeal to people to get involved and support those causes. We all find a sympathetic connection to those suffering with disease, or poverty, or disaster. You rarely see people pull their wallets out at the suggestion of helping prisoners. Don’t they deserve what they’re getting? Shouldn’t we help suffering people who haven’t committed crimes?

So what do you say to men willing to have their photo taken? Give me “prison tough?" Show me that softer side? Not likely. Who wants to see a smiling prisoner? We’d wonder if they felt sorry for what they did and whether their punishment was having any effect. The flip side would be a photo of a sad or lonely prisoner, to which we are likely to say, “Serves him right. Did the crime, now he’s doing the time!”

Stumping for prisoners is like asking people to support a despised people group like the Nazis. In a world groaning under the weight of worthy causes and little time in our busy schedules to weigh our choices, who do you think gets a quicker response, the murderer or the malnourished girl in Malawi?

As I’ve looked through the lens, considered the light, the angle, the story, the possible interpretations, I have learned to see each person as God sees me—fallen, in need of the cleansing blood of the cross.