Stillwater prison tattoo parlor aims to create career opportunities – while reducing infections
Courtney Ocegueda isn’t scheduled to get out of Stillwater prison until 2033, but he already has a plan for employment upon his release.
Ocegueda, who is serving a 27-year sentence for killing one man and injuring two in a 2015 Rochester shooting, wants to work at a tattoo parlor in the Twin Cities.
Ocegueda, a longtime artist, is part of a pilot tattoo program at the Minnesota Correctional Facility-Stillwater in Bayport designed to reduce the spread of bloodborne diseases and help provide inmates with work experience. It’s believed to be one of the first tattoo programs in a U.S. prison.
“This program is, really, the light at the end of the tunnel,” said Ocegueda, 27, who is expected to be one of the first tattoo artists in the state to receive a license while incarcerated. “For me, it’s an opportunity to do something with my life. It’s hope. It’s changed me. It’s an opportunity. It’s growth. It’s everything that, you know, I felt I needed in my life to be able to change from when I was younger because I was a reckless young kid.”
Inmates Courtney Ocegueda, left, and Daniel Gonzales work on sketches in the tattoo shop at the Minnesota Correctional Facility-Stillwater in Bayport on Tuesday. (John Autey / Pioneer Press)
On a recent weekday morning, Ocegueda worked with his mentor, Justin Jimenez, the program manager, on building his skills. Ocegueda and his fellow apprentice, Daniel Gonzales, were the first two inmates selected to participate in the program. They received their temporary tattoo licenses from the Minnesota Department of Health in March.
The men were picked based on their artistic talent and temperament, said Jimenez, who was hired by the Minnesota Department of Corrections in October 2022. Two other inmates have recently started the apprenticeship program, which is expected to keep expanding through the years.
DOC officials have worked for about two years to get the program up and running. Inmates must pay for their own tattoos. Jimenez will not actually be giving tattoos himself – his role is to provide apprenticeships to the program participants, who will be tattooing other inmates.
The men have set up shop in a back room in the prison’s laundry area. The room, which has running water, features a large mural created by Jimenez, Gonzales and Ocegueda with the words “create, inspire and achieve” painted on it.
The apprentices have worked on eight or nine other inmates who volunteered to be inked. “They’re still practicing, so they haven’t started to charge yet,” Jimenez said.
Inmates who wish to get a tattoo must have a record of good behavior for six months prior. Each tattoo design could take several sessions; each hour-long session will cost $25, Jimenez said.
“It’s a good reason for (inmates) to try to stay out of trouble,” he said. “I mean, there’s not a lot of things in prison that you get to look forward to besides your release date, and I think that this is a good way that some of these guys can pass their time. A little bit of ink therapy, if you will.”
Jimenez, 36, owns his own tattoo shop and has been tattooing professionally for about eight years. He said he applied for the DOC position because he wanted to be part of “something bigger than myself.”
“I saw the value in something like this,” he said. “I could see its potential.”
Developing the program to the point where Jimenez actually had students took more than a year, he said.
“There were all kinds of hoops to jump through,” he said. “We had to not only adhere to the state regulations and laws, but we also have security procedures and everything else that comes with doing it in this facility.”
Inmate and apprentice Travis Leonard applies ink to practice skin with a tattoo machine during class in the tattoo shop at the Minnesota Correctional Facility-Stillwater. (John Autey / Pioneer Press)
The apprentices begin by working on designing and drawing on paper and then move on to “fake skin,” a silicone tattoo practice sheet, he said.
After perfecting their skills on fake skin, they are allowed to tattoo their own skin “and then, slowly but surely, they get to work on other people,” he said. “Once their skill is where it needs to be, we can let them start taking some appointments.”
The appointments – and the subject matter – would be dependent on the skill level. “We’re not going to start doing portraits right away or anything, but we’re going to build up,” Jimenez said. “It’s just like a natural progression of things as you go.”
Fewer infections, more jobs
Having a licensed tattoo studio in the prison reduces the risk of infections and the associated medical costs caused by unsanitary and unauthorized tattooing, said Marina Fuhrman, the DOC health services director who also is serving as the program director.
The DOC generally treats about 100 cases of hepatitis C each year, and the cost of treatment can vary significantly based on the course of treatment. The cost of medication to treat inmates for hepatitis C in fiscal year 2023 was $995,386.
Marina Fuhrman poses in the tattoo shop in front of a mural created by Jimenez, Gonzalez and Ocegueda. (John Autey / Pioneer Press)
Reducing the potential for transmission of bloodborne diseases creates a safer environment for everyone, including staff, while also being more prudent with taxpayer dollars, according to Fuhrman. The anticipated yearly costs of the tattoo program at Stillwater is about $130,000, which includes Jimenez’s salary.
Stillwater was selected for the tattoo program because it already had an art program, and the administration was supportive, Furhman said. If it is deemed successful, the DOC would consider expanding to other DOC facilities.
In addition to helping reduce the transmission of hepatitis C, the program is designed to help inmates find lawful employment upon their release, she said.
“The tattooing industry is forgiving of people who were incarcerated, and they have much more opportunity to find jobs and be successful,” she said.
Gonzales, 27, said he has wanted to be a tattoo artist for as long as he can remember. “Some people want to be doctors; some want to play sports,” he said. “This was something that I’ve always wanted to do.”
Gonzales got his first tattoo – a Louis Vuitton symbol on his right forearm – when he was 14. “It really doesn’t represent who I am now, but it was a part of my past,” said Gonzales, who is serving time for second-degree murder.
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“Ever since I was young, I wanted to draw,” he said. “I used to see my cousins with their tattoos and ideas and stuff that they were doing. A lot of the time, they’d have a tattoo stencil book that you could look through and see all these designs, so it really inspired me to want to do the same thing. I used to take these books and do tracings to show my parents, show my aunts and uncles.”
Gonzales was transferred to Stillwater from the Minnesota Correctional Facility-Rush City when he was accepted into the apprenticeship program; his anticipated release date is March 2042.
“When I first came to prison (in 2016), I really didn’t see any light for my life in the beginning, you know what I mean?” he said. “But now I’m able to work towards achieving something that I’ve always wanted to do, so it makes a big difference in my life, and I’m hoping that I can be an example and help other people with my work.”
‘Opportunity to better my whole life’
Inmate and apprentice Corey Schuck applies ink to practice skin in the tattoo shop at the Minnesota Correctional Facility-Stillwater on Tuesday. (John Autey / Pioneer Press)
On a recent weekday morning, Jimenez taught Corey Schuck, 40, how to shade the contours of his tattoo design – a ribbon reading “Mom and Dad” – on fake skin.
“It will start to kind of break apart over time if you hit it too many times, but it’ll take more of a beating than real skin,” Jimenez told him. “That looks good. You always want to start with your darkest black. Now you want to whip that out of these deepest areas because you’re trying to create a little bit of depth.”
Schuck, serving time for first-degree assault, said he was “nervous and excited – at the same time” at the thought of putting his design on skin in the future.
“I’ve just got to trust the process,” he said. “It’s intimidating how good these guys are.”
Being accepted into the tattoo apprenticeship program is “a great opportunity to better my whole life for the rest of my life,” he said.
In order to become a licensed tattoo artist, Schuck and the other apprentices must work with a mentor who’s been licensed for at least two years and complete 200 hours of actual procedure time, Jimenez said.
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“That’s the actual tattooing on clients, so it doesn’t count to just be in the shop working,” he said. “It doesn’t count to be cleaning the shop or anything like that. You have to be tattooing exactly 200 hours.”
Once the 200 hours are completed, the men will receive their licensure through the Minnesota Department of Health, “and they could work anywhere within the state of Minnesota legally,” Jimenez said.
Ocegueda, who has been interested in art since he was a young boy, said that is his dream.
“Having the opportunity to be a part of this, be a part of the art, the growth, the change within the facility is something special and definitely something that I’m going to pursue when I get out,” he said. “This is the rest of my life. Art and tattooing is the rest of my life.”