Home Ground: Art and Incarceration

“You have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world. And you have to do it all the time”—Angela Davis

For the past few months, I was having a crisis of faith. Not of the religious or spiritual kind, but that of identity. As someone who believes in kindness and goodness and every cringy ‘you can do it!’ motto you can think of, I felt as though I fell short. Like I was not doing enough to live by these values and beliefs. I needed to do something. Something that said: there is goodness in this world because I am doing good. It was at this time I was introduced to Home Ground.

It was a Wednesday morning when I volunteered at Home Ground for the first time. Surprisingly warm on a winter's day, I hitched a ride on the 29 bus to arrive at Newtown Park Apartments, where their office resided. Inside, I was met by two other volunteers and the welcoming faces of Jacqui and Vane, the director and co-faciliator, respectively. There was art covering every inch of the walls, from crochet garments folded over chairs to papercrafts stuck to the walls, woven harakeke arranged neatly on a side table to sticky notes plastered on the windows and whiteboard. It felt like walking into art class in primary school and I cannot describe how comforting that felt. I forgot how much art was missing from my life until I walked into that room.

They kindly served me a hot cup of earl grey tea as we sat around the table and made introductions. One volunteer was studying addictions counselling, the other was a burgeoning artist; I was much younger and unsure of what I wanted to do in life, but they welcomed me anyway. They discussed their expectations, the importance of our work, and set us to task. That day, we were compiling packages of art supplies with stickers, colored paper, and activity sheets. Packages which would later be sent to various women inside corrections facilities across Aotearoa. 

Today, Wellington, and Aotearoa at large, face a worsening crisis as the arts and culture sector is continuously defunded, undervalued, and undercut. Where art is perceived as a frivolous and unnecessary expense in our city, it is important to remind ourselves of the importance of art in our lives and nowhere demonstrates it better than Home Ground.

Home Ground is a creative wellbeing project co-founded in 2019 by Jacqui Moyes and Anita Grafton as their response to the systemic challenges women, wahine, and those who identify as  female face within the justice system. They believed in using the creative arts as a way for women to learn more about themselves, to tell their life stories; to nurture hope, social change, and help these women create better lives for themselves and future generations. 

According to Jacqui, the Creative Director of Home Ground, this project truly began in university. She studied education and gender studies; during one of her criminology courses, a guest lecturer came in discussing the gender inequality found within the justice system. Inspired by this lecturer, Jacqui found herself working in men’s prisons, eventually becoming Arts in Corrections advisor at Arts Access Aotearoa, partially overseeing the national network of creative arts programmes being delivered in corrections facilities across Aotearoa. 

However, much of the network was gutted under National government terms and her work experience informed her that much of the gender issue was not being addressed enough. To put it simply, men’s prisons are given more resources, economic opportunities, and support compared to women’s prisons. Additionally, men are more consistently ‘inside’ compared to women who are more transient; in and out and frequently shipped around. As a result, many support systems were built in response to the men’s static experience, instead of the women’s. This dynamic means most work within corrections facilities, and the Arts in Corrections network by proxy, was primarily male-centered and informed by male experiences.

This is what led to the creation of Home Ground—Jacqui and Anita wished to provide additional support to women who have less opportunities within this system, as well as to create a place for them to belong. A place shaped and informed by their lived experiences, because: “women are in the justice system right now. Women are processing trauma right now. Children are being taken away right now.” A quote by Jacqui I still think about after our interview. This is why she does the work. This is why Home Ground is so important today. 

When some of the women were moved from Rimutaka to Christchurch’s Women’s Prison, they booked multiple flights down to Christchurch so they could continue working with those women.

When they send a package, they make sure to include handwritten notes in the shape of hearts addressed to each woman to tell them that someone was on the other side sending these notes. 

When that package arrives, it is stuffed full of pink paper; when the institution strips the femininity away from these women, a sparkling cupcake sticker stuck to the grey cell wall helps reclaim a little of that identity back. 

In the face of diminishing art funds and closed down city galleries, Home Ground continues to do the work they do because it matters. It matters for the women ‘inside’ and for them, art is not as accessible as it is for you and me. They rely on Home Ground for their resources and support. Through art, they are able to express themselves, reconnect with parts of themselves that the institution has stripped away, and be able to simply create. 

In a system built on punishment, Home Ground asks the question: ‘what if there was another way?’ and makes the effort to see that question through. They are doing the work and showing the world that we don’t have to deliver ‘justice’ this way because what Home Ground does works. Many women have expressed gratitude towards Home Ground because it has changed their lives for the better. Art has helped them more than any prison cell.

That is why they do the work they do. That is why we need art. That is why I am writing this article as my own love letter to Home Ground. I have not volunteered with them long but they have reignited a passion in me. For the arts, for volunteering, for doing good. Change is possible because Home Ground exists. 

And I hope this article inspires you, the reader, to pick up a pen and doodle on this magazine like you did, sitting bored in class, in primary because it's not silly or distracting, it's essential. I hope it heals some forgotten part of you and maybe you’ll decide to pick up that pen or marker or crayon again because everyone should have access to art including the most disadvantaged of us. 

This is not a full picture of every aspect of Home Ground or the Arts in Corrections network at large: it is only a slice. If you are at all inspired by their work, I encourage you to look into it yourself. Home Ground has some amazing resources on their website and are always open for volunteers. I highly recommend their article: How to Combat Institutionalism. 

Arts Access Aotearoa also has some great resources, including their recently published guidebook: Te Ara ki Runga. Their Arts in Corrections Advisor, Neil Wallace, also runs semi-regular workshops and lessons on how to become an Arts in Corrections educator if you wish to get involved in the work more directly, as contractor or volunteer. 

Now, I shall leave you with one final quote from Jacqui: “I was there once and I couldn’t do much. You gotta follow your heart and stake it in the community. That is where change happens… I’m very hopeful [about your generation].”