Today Liberté turns 12 years old. It began with a written request inside the Batán Penitentiary Unit Nº15 and an uncomfortable conviction: the work of people in a situation of incarceration doesn't have to be free.
Before the workshop: the critique of "donation"
It was 2014. In prisons across Buenos Aires province, it was common to see posts about people in a situation of incarceration "donating" what they produced. For Pampa, that wasn't generosity — it was exploitation. With the promise of a donation certificate, or disguised as a work-therapy or trade workshop, many men and women were made to work for free.
Liberté's idea was different: donating has to be a voluntary act, just like outside. And to really be able to donate, you first have to be able to generate your own resources.
July 3, 2014: the stamp
With that conviction, the "Liberté" Workshop Project was put together: a request to the head of workshops to set up a workshop of their own and produce work clothes and household textiles — shirts, pants, towels, bath towels, dish towels — with earnings proportional to each person's tasks.
The project was submitted on July 2 to the General Directorate of Prison Labor, in La Plata, after already being discussed with the deputy warden. On July 3 it received the entry-desk stamp at Unit 15. That is the date we mark as Liberté's founding.
Who started it
Xavier "Pampa" Aguirreal was the founder, and pushed the project forward from the inside. By then he had already spent a couple of years at Unit 15. Before Liberté, he had been part of founding the Pastoral, also at UP15, where he himself taught the first self-managed computer course.
Alfredo Zenteno joined him to take the first step; today he is free, living in Bolivia. And there was Luis Becedillas, an Adventist pastor, the unpaid civilian volunteer who handled the request with the prison service; he has accompanied Liberté since its founding.
That same July 3, Ariel T. and Cecilio A. joined in. Later came Víctor "Chiquito" C., Adrián, Esteban, Daniel Q. And more kept joining. That's how Liberté is built: one person at a time.
Someone had to do it: show that self-managed, dignified work was possible inside prison. We did it with suffering and perseverance, but also with joy and conviction, with many organizations and many people alongside us.
More than 30 productive units
Twelve years later, Liberté has set up more than 30 productive units, all inside Unit 15 and in compliance with the rules and protocols: the Store, the Bar, the Restaurant, the Rotisserie, the Carpentry Shop and the Laser Carpentry Shop, sewing, leatherwork, blacksmithing, aluminum carpentry, a kiosk, an ice-cream shop, wall clocks, organic vegetable production and healthy eggs, and many more.
It wasn't without a fight. Twice, operations came close to being shut down completely, because Liberté refused to accept having 50% of its earnings taken away.
The only one left
Of that 2014 group, today only Pampa remains: the rest have been released. The colleague with the most years at Liberté after him is Roberto "Kuru" M., who joined in 2019.
Pampa tells it with an anecdote. At a Tuesday meeting — like every week — he asked who remembered anything from 2014, from what the prison was like back then. There were about 70 people. No one raised a hand: no one had spent that much time in a situation of incarceration. At first it made him laugh. Then it hit him that he's the only one left.
We asked him what he thinks and feels, after watching so many companions join and then be released.
That's what keeps me alive, still wanting to keep fighting, that it wasn't in vain. I'm grateful to every one of them who passed through, and there were many, who all the time they were here gave their absolute best, as much as or more than I did myself. I do see them leave, yes. It makes me happy, and of course it also makes me sad, but above all it gives me hope, because I know that someday I'll leave too. Until the very last minute I'm at Liberté, I'll keep going with the same strength or more.
Twelve years
Twelve years have passed. Official channels still describe the same exploitative arrangement called "donation," dressed up as workshops. Liberté has proven otherwise: for 12 years, dignified, paid work has been possible inside Buenos Aires province's prisons, and it's sustained every single day. Today it is a community made up of people in a situation of incarceration, victims of crime and of society, and people who have been released. If you want to know the full story, ask Juliana: she'll answer by email, WhatsApp, or the chat on the website.
