Project Armchair: Home Behind Bars

The finished product

I stood in front of the heavy steel door and waited for it to open by an unseen hand. Stepping through the doorway, it jarred my senses to hear the clang of the door shut immediately behind me as metal hit metal and locks clicked into place. Following the cinderblock hallway, I passed other sealed steel doors and was informed by the prison employee guiding my tour that they led to the heart of the prison. I couldn’t help but wonder about the stories, hopes, and heartaches held within the labyrinth of those doors and walls.

We followed the maze to our destination, the visitation room of the North Dakota State Penitentiary. This was my third visit to this room, the first being over a year prior. The first time I laid eyes on this spacious room, it was unquestionably drab. Cinder blocks were painted in neutral shades. Chairs and small low tables dotted the room. A cupboard held tattered games and puzzles. The only splash of color was at the far end where a few bright paintings were hung on the wall over an assortment of toys. The opposite wall contained the guard station and the only wall space free of doors or equipment.

On that visit I was accompanied by fellow board members, treasurer Jill Vollmers, vice-president Jerri Carlson, and secretary Annette Kost. We had been invited to this tour by the Children of Incarcerated Parents committee. It was their hope that Project Armchair could partner with them to help breathe life into the drab room and turn it into an inviting space that children wanted to visit. Research shows that when incarcerated parents have frequent visits with their children, recidivism rates decline. The COIP also hoped to infuse literacy opportunities into the children’s visits. Enter, Project Armchair.

A vision for the space slowly began to take form and shape. The foundational and obvious premise was that incarcerated parents do not want to be incarcerated. They want to be home with their families. What if we created a space that reflected those hopes and dreams? Working in partnership with Art from the Heart and an artistic inmate, we brainstormed about what the space could look like and if we could create a living room scene using only paint.

Believing that the sterile plastic chairs provided by the prison would be counterintuitive to a cozy space, I approached the shop teacher at Mandan Public Schools, Eldon Kroh. When he heard the vision, he quickly pointed out three students who were talented and eager for more woodworking challenges. Lucas Fleck, Ian Eilers, and Riley Engelstad immediately embraced the vision and got to work on a freestanding bookshelf and a two-person bench that had the shape and size of a small sofa or loveseat.

Then COVID hit the penitentiary and hit it hard. Visitors were prohibited from entering the penitentiary in an effort to slow the contagion. We waited for months for family visitations to resume, but in the meantime, the artists were busy at work.

On this, my third visit with Project Armchair board member, Jane Morrow, along with Riley and Ian, we were finally allowed to view the finished product. Stepping through the same metal door as I had on previous visits and into the visitation room, I was floored by the beautiful mural. Rich with color, details, and warmth, I was amazed that this was accomplished with nothing more than paint. The bench built by the graduated seniors was located invitingly by the “fireplace” and the shelf securely attached to the wall next to it. The books donated by individuals through Barnes and Noble filled the shelves, ready to be enjoyed by fathers and their children. It was absolutely perfect. The books are intended to go home with the children after their visit so that they can relive a pleasurable experience with their fathers over and over.

Perhaps as fulfilling as the finished product, was the wide collaboration of individuals and organizations to make the project reality. All working for a common cause with the end goals of strengthening family bonds in the face of forced separation, building foundational literacy skills, and where possible, reuniting families in their homes through lowered recidivism. I believe that this is one of the most important and potentially impactful efforts that Project Armchair has undertaken. I hope it will be so.

If you would like to donate books to keep the visitation room shelves filled, please visit the “donations” tab on the main page of this blog for more information or contact us through our Facebook page. All books must be new.