Category: employability

Woman wearing a graduate gown carrying a large bouquet of red roses

‘If I want to change, I have to start it’

Author: | 20 Jan 2026

When our scholar Sania was sentenced to four and a half years in prison, she thought everything had ended. ‘I believed I had lost every opportunity, every bit of direction, and every part of the future I had imagined for myself.’ Instead, it has become a beginning

A year into my sentence, I moved onto the Open unit and worked in housekeeping for about six months. It was honest work but it was also the kind of job that gives you a lot of time to think. One particular day, things felt heavy. I was tired, physically, mentally, emotionally. I remember thinking, ‘I can’t do this forever. I need something to change’.

Around that time, another woman on the unit said something, when we were talking casually, that I will never forget. ‘You have so much potential. You shouldn’t waste it. Have you ever thought about doing your Master’s?’

The truth was, I hadn’t. Not seriously. I had an undergraduate degree already and had worked as a manager at Amazon before my sentence, but I had never considered going further. Yet her words stuck with me. They settled somewhere deep, right where hope had been sitting quietly waiting for a moment like this. And that was the moment the idea of returning to education was planted.

‘I definitely didn’t expect to be accepted on the spot’

One bad day at the housekeeping job pushed me to act on that thought. Instead of letting frustration spiral, I told myself, ‘if I want change, I have to start it’. So I decided to go to a university open day. I didn’t expect much. I definitely didn’t expect to be accepted on the spot. But that’s exactly what happened.

I applied for a Master’s in business computing and was offered a place immediately. Suddenly, I had something to look forward to, something that belonged to my future rather than my past. I started the course in September 2024 and finished in September 2025, just as my sentence came to an end. In November 2025, I graduated with a distinction. Even now, those words feel surreal.

‘Studying from custody came with challenges’

People often imagine Open conditions as straightforward, but studying from custody came with challenges I never expected. One of the biggest issues was timing. To attend university, I needed a ROTL (Release on Temporary Licence), but sometimes the schedules weren’t processed in time. If that happened, I simply couldn’t go out to university. Missing a lecture or a study session wasn’t just inconvenient. It could mean falling behind or having to work twice as hard to catch up.

There was also the issue of access to technology. In the Open unit, we weren’t allowed to have laptops, which meant I could only work on campus. No matter how motivated you are, that creates pressure. Assignments had to be squeezed into the hours I was physically allowed to be at university. If I missed a day, I missed my work time.

Still I kept going. I learned to make the best of what I had. I pushed through the obstacles, not because it was easy, but because it mattered. Every challenge became part of my journey rather than a reason to stop.

When I first entered prison, I felt like everything had been taken from me: my job; my freedom; my confidence; and, honestly, my sense of who I was. The Master’s degree changed that. It gave me a direction. It gave me my identity back. It reminded me that I am someone who can achieve, who can work hard, who has a future beyond my sentence. Studying became more than gaining knowledge. It was gaining myself.

‘People can take anything away from you, but they can’t take your knowledge’

My mum always told me, ‘people can take anything away from you, but they can’t take your knowledge’. I used to brush that off, but now I understand it deeply. Everything else can fall apart, but what you learn becomes something no one can ever remove from your hands.

When I was released, I didn’t just come out of prison. I came out as a graduate with a distinction. I came out with confidence and purpose. I came out feeling ready to face the world again. My Master’s degree has opened new doors for me, not just in terms of employment, but in how I feel about myself and what I believe I am capable of. It will be something I lean on every time I apply for a job, every time I speak about my journey, every time I face something difficult. I went in thinking I had lost everything. I came out realising I had gained far more.

‘Education doesn’t just pass the time. It builds you’

To anyone in prison reading this, please don’t give up on yourself. Education doesn’t just pass the time. It builds you. It strengthens you. It gives you a focus when everything feels chaotic. It reminds you that your story isn’t finished, no matter what mistakes you’ve made.

If you have the chance to study, take it. Even if it feels scary. Even if you think you’re not smart enough. Even if life has knocked your confidence out of you. Because if I can finish a Master’s degree while serving a sentence, navigating ROTLs, and working only from campus hours, you can too.

Your future is still yours. And your potential is still there, waiting.

Find out more about Longford Scholarships. Applications for 2026 close on 1 May.

‘Working with the police wasn’t something I imagined I’d do’

Author: | 7 Jan 2026

Gaining a degree is a mighty achievement. Taking that next step into graduate work is another. Our scholar Alicia has just completed a month-long, paid placement with the West Midlands Police and Crime Commissioner’s Office, organised through our Employability project. Here she reflects on what that experience has given her above and beyond her expectations.

During my placement, I worked on a project to make more trauma-informed the rooms in police stations where witnesses and victims are interviewed. The focus was on creating safer, more supportive spaces where victims of serious crimes would feel more at ease and willing to discuss often distressing and overwhelming matters with police officers. There were various aspects of the spaces urgently in need of an overhaul: to name a few, the colour scheme; the furnishings; the lighting; the temperature control; and the signage. Changing these items, I believed, would really get the spaces where they needed to be fit for purpose.

‘It helped me rebuild trust, both in myself and in the systems around me’

Working with the police had never been something I imagined myself doing, so the prospect felt daunting. I was unaware of what to expect, or how challenging it would be. I worried that I wouldn’t feel part of the team. And I hadn’t ever thought I would be given such an opportunity, particularly given my past experiences and the reality of having a criminal record.

Disclosure had always felt like a barrier, something I approached with fear and hesitation. However, this placement completely shifted my perspective. Over time, it helped me rebuild trust, both in myself and in the systems around me. It showed me that meaningful relationships between the police and people with lived experience of the criminal justice system can be restored, that reform, trust and opportunity can genuinely coexist. I gained confidence in disclosing my background and no longer seeing it as something that defines or limits me.

‘I was going outside my comfort zone’

Throughout the placement, the support I received was invaluable. Colleagues from varying departments consistently provided ongoing encouragement and guidance, helping me navigate both professional and personal challenges along the way. These included delving into subjects that were completely unknown to me, such as when researching colour theory. It was a steep learning curve.

Colour theory, I now know, is the study of how different colours influence human emotions, perceptions, and behaviour. It is based on the psychological responses colours can evoke, such as calm, energy, trust, or comfort, and how these responses can be intentionally used to shape mood, communicate meaning, and promote positive emotional experiences.

Another challenge was having to arrange meetings where I was discussing issues involved in my research with outside foundations and experts. The oral presentation exams I had done as part of my law course at university did give me some confidence in such situations, but again I was going outside my comfort zone.

One of my proudest moments came when I presented my research findings to the senior leadership, including the Chief Executive and the Crime Commissioner himself. That was something I never thought I would be given the opportunity to do – to have my findings genuinely valued by them and the rest of the commissioner’s team

‘I am definitely going to be more inclined to put forward my ideas’

As an intern I learnt about being part of a working environment, being part of a team, and a variety of research techniques. I have gained a lot of confidence as a result in my own ideas and abilities. The feedback I received solidified for me that I do not need to question myself as much as I did before. Moving forward I am definitely going to be more inclined to put forward my ideas.

Now I am looking forward to hearing what changes are put in place as a result of my work. I’d love to see that the spaces I worked on have been improved, and that the people using those spaces are feeling the benefit of something I played a part in creating. It would make me immensely proud.

The experience has also had tangible impacts on my future. Since completing my time with the West Midlands Police and Crime Commissioner’s Office, I have secured three job interviews, with my placement there playing a key role in strengthening my CV. It has built my confidence, developed my skills. That is what is possible when trust and opportunity are extended.

Roxanne Foster, our Employability Manager, who helped set up the placement, adds: ‘Alicia’s experience goes to the heart of what employability means to me. It’s not just about CVs, interviews, or job outcomes, important as those things are, but about creating opportunities that genuinely shift how people see themselves and what they believe is possible. When the opportunity arose to work on a research placement with Simon Foster, the West Midlands Police and Crime Commissioner and his team, our intention was always twofold, to contribute to important work around trauma-aware practice, and to create a space where lived experience was not just acknowledged but valued. What made this placement particularly powerful was the focus on trust, offering a supported environment where honest conversations could take place and where growth, learning and confidence were actively encouraged. We extend our sincere thanks to Simon and his colleagues Lucy Naylor and Andrea Gabbitas.’

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

‘She didn’t mind about the conviction but was concerned I’d never been to a zoo’

Author: | 16 Dec 2025

Former scholar Carolyn busts some myths about life after release, shares her passion for education’s transformative power and looks ahead to happy new year.

The five years since my release from prison have gone absurdly quickly. My release into the throes of Covid lockdowns enabled me to recover from the prison experience in a time of general uncertainty: it wasn’t just me feeling unsure of the world outside.

I’d been nervous about my re-entry into the community, particularly about meeting new people and forming friendships. Would new people in my life accept me with a conviction?

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. Over the last five years I have made a number of new friends, no one at all having a problem with my conviction. Instead, I have faced warm acceptance and empathy that situations such as mine could happen to anyone. Slowly but surely, I have learned to have more faith in others again. I met my partner a couple of years ago and raced to explain the baggage that I come with, just so that I could get the rejection over quickly. She didn’t mind about the conviction but was very concerned that I’d never been to a zoo before. We’re getting married next year.

Looking back from where I am now, it has been such a journey. Throughout my time in prison, we were regularly fed information about what the challenges will likely be on release. I was fortunate to have accommodation sorted and I have an exceptional support network around me, reducing some of the issues that many others face on release.

Sigh of relief

Qualifying for insurance was something that came up time and again. We had it drilled into us that insurance companies can ramp up premiums for people with convictions, pricing us out of many aspects of quotidian life. This is not something that I have experienced. My conviction is still unspent and whilst, naturally, driving offences for example will mean that access to car insurance isn’t straightforward, getting reasonably priced insurance hasn’t been a struggle at all. My partner and I bought a house last year, and with that came the need for house, life, contents insurance etc. I held my breath as we submitted the forms and each time a sigh of relief came moments later, when we’d cleared the eligibility stage and been offered very decent quotes. In my experience, the blanket insurance crisis is no more than a silly prison myth.

Another of those myths is foreign travel. Yes, there are restrictions against this within most licence conditions, but these can be flexible and might dissolve over time with a reasonable and supportive probation officer. I had been told by prison officers that, even after coming off licence, travel would be tricky; a quick Google search is enough to find out that this is rubbish. So far, I’ve travelled to eight European countries (some of those multiple times) entirely without issue. We’re planning our honeymoon to South East Asia and other trips to North and West Africa and, although it’s taken a few years, I can now rest assured that my conviction won’t be getting in the way.

Making a good plan

A regular topic of conversation in prison was ‘What do you miss the most about life outside?’. For me, cooking, trail running and wild swimming were high up my list but more than anything, I missed education. My time in prison did wonders for reducing my ‘To Be Read’ pile, many thanks to my sympathetic and generous parents for bringing new books from my stack to each visit.

However, the Kafkaesque experience inside doesn’t lend itself to enhancing an educational profile. For those with a disrupted education, the availability of Functional Skills qualifications in English and maths is very useful but successfully delivering these courses to reach everyone who needs them is a tall order.

Transition back into the community has the potential to be bumpy but a way to overcome this is by making a good plan: What do you want to do and what do you need to get you there?

I now work for an organisation that supports women with convictions to access education, training and employment opportunities. We so often see women approach us for support with designing a new career path as their conviction means that their previous one is no longer accessible to them. I was in a similar position so turned to the Longford Trust to help with specialising in a new area and was given the exciting opportunity to begin a PhD. For me, studying for a degree isn’t just about rehabilitation. It’s an inspiring and experimental experience. For those I know who have gone to university for the first time after release from prison, it has been entirely transformative.

This Christmas and New Year will be significant for us as we reflect on how far we have come and look towards navigating a new stage of our life: marriage, hopefully children, entirely unchartered territory for us, and certainly an exciting time.

Studying can help people to discover their professional identity and transcend their circumstances, removing them from their interactions with the criminal justice system. If I have one bit of advice for people considering university after prison, it’s to just go for it.

Find out more about our scholarships, mentoring and employability support.

Two women and two men smiling and talking live on a theatre stage

Does your sentence end when you leave prison?

Author: | 4 Nov 2025

It was a wonderful evening at the Apollo Theatre in London on Tuesday 28 October when, after a performance of Punch, based on the memoir of our scholar Jacob Dunne, the Longford Trust put on a post-show Q&A session on the topic, raised in the play, of the challenges that face prisoners on release.

Listen to the audio recording of the panel Q&A here.

 

On stage were (pictured left to right): our Employability Manager and Longford Scholar Roxanne Foster; multi-award-winning screenwriter (Time, Unforgiveable, Hillborough) Jimmy McGovern: and current Longford Scholar Andrew Morris. Hosting the conversation was Ronke Phillips, ITN broadcaster and wife of Kevin Pakenham.

This event was one in a series of post-show talks, curated by The Forgiveness Project, with more to come before Punch closes its West End run on 29 November.

The conversation took as its theme the question, ‘Does your sentence end when you leave prison?’ Ronke asked the panel in turn, and then the audience (some two-thirds of people who had watched the show stayed on to join in with this event), how willing they thought employers and the public are to believe in reform and rehabilitation. The panel shared stories, setbacks and suggestions .

Thank you to all those involved for an insightful, funny and uplifting discussion.

Punch was written by James Graham – winner of the 2024 Kevin Pakenham Prize.

Photo credit: Jake Bush at Punch the play.

Painting of a red kite bird

‘I felt something I hadn’t felt in so long: real hope’

Author: | 16 Sep 2025

As we welcome 38 new Longford Scholars this month, one of their number, Beatrice Auty, tells and illustrates her story of coming across the Longford Trust. It was the moment a door opened on finding purpose through education.

Noted in my small prison calendar, given to me by the chaplaincy and which became my makeshift diary, is an entry from August 15th, 2023: ‘The Longford Trust Scholarship Event – BRILLIANT.’ On that day, I was escorted off the house block at HMP Bronzefield and taken to the library. It felt like an exciting escape from the mundane daily cycle of cleaning the wing just to earn a few hours out of my cell before lockdown resumed.

I had been looking forward to this meeting, having heard about the work of the Longford Trust. I sat in the library with one other woman, listening to Clare and Sara from the Trust, and felt something I hadn’t felt in so long after living in fear and limbo since my arrest in 2021: hope, real hope. I walked back to my cell with a renewed sense of purpose, one I knew deep down, but had left behind many years ago. I remembered that I was able to be an academic, and I was going to become a student – no longer defined by A1603EZ. That shift in identity was already liberating.

‘I sat in my cell handwriting assignments’

I decided to use my sentence as a time to study. Anything to take my mind off the grim surroundings of my cell felt hugely welcome. A few months later, after resolving some initial funding issues, I enrolled in an Open University Access Course in Psychology and Social Science. I sat in my cell handwriting assignments, using the course as a countdown, not only to my release, but to something more meaningful. It gave me structure, escape, and pride. When I received 72% on my first assignment and 96% in December, I was overjoyed. I felt a deep sense of achievement and a renewed desire to keep learning.

That kind of affirmation meant a great deal to me. I had dropped out of college without completing my A-Levels. Later, I got into law school via an entry exam but had dropped out again due to an ongoing legal case with a former employer. Though I had the potential, I had lost confidence in my ability and didn’t believe I belonged in education. Prison gave me the time and an unexpected second chance that I decided to take.

‘That moment was transformative’

Fast forward to my release: I completed the Access course with distinction. That gave me the UCAS points to enrol in a Criminology degree at the University of Westminster. After my first year, I was awarded a Longford Trust Scholarship. That moment was transformative. To have support throughout my degree, a mentor, and help finding work all feels profound. In a world that stigmatises ex-offenders, the Longford Trust provides encouragement, belief, and hope.

Since then, I’ve spoken to many people still in prison or recently released who are thinking about studying. Some have little or no prior education. I tell them: Access modules and short courses are stepping stones, and you don’t need perfect grades. What matters is desire. If you’ve found that in a prison cell, you’re already on your way. You deserve support, and the support is out there.

‘Studying gave me a new sense of self-worth and confidence’

Choosing to study while in prison takes resilience and determination. It’s undeniably harder under those constraints with limited resources, restricted time, and a harsh environment, but it is so worth it. Studying gave me a new sense of self-worth and confidence I didn’t even know I had. It enabled me to focus on something outside of myself and find joy in learning again.

I still remember the moment I walked into the library at my Open prison, printed study materials in hand, and told the officers I needed time away from my work in the gardens because I had assignments due. That moment meant more to me than a grade ever could. It gave me something bigger – it gave me identity, dignity, purpose, and a passion to keep going.

I will always be grateful to the Longford Trust for their unwavering support and encouragement. To anyone thinking about studying again: just go for it, and know you are capable.

Image: Beatrice drew this red kite illustration. She said: These birds became a powerful symbol of freedom for me during my time in prison. They would often circle above the yard, a constant reminder of the beauty that still exists in the world – the birds, the sky, and so much more.’

If you would like to know more about Longford Scholarships or our Frank Awards for serving prisoners studying with the OU, or if you know someone who might, do contact Clare or Judith.

Man wearing a graduation gown with a green hood and holding a scroll

‘Not how high we climb, but where we have climbed from’

Author: | 2 Sep 2025

Our Scholar Andrew put drugs and crime behind him and chose education. He doubted his ability to do it many times but this summer graduated with a degree in psychology. If he can do it, he writes, so can you.

After a great deal of hard work, unwavering determination, and resilience, I have finally earned a bachelor’s degree in social psychology. Following yet another release from prison, I realised I was done with committing crime and the drug-addicted lifestyle it entailed.

I was no good at it anyway, as I was always getting caught. Kicking up dust in HMP Brick City was no longer where I wanted to be.  I made the decision to re-educate myself but wasn’t sure how. So, I enrolled in night school, dedicating two years to acquiring the GCSEs needed to enrol in college.

After that, I spent a year completing an access course at Norwich City College, which led me into three years of studying psychology at the University of East Anglia. Having completed my degree with a 2:1, I am now confident that with hard work, commitment and perseverance, there is nothing I cannot achieve.

Plagued by self-doubt

Throughout my journey, I experienced many highs and lows in what I can only describe as an emotional rollercoaster. At times, it felt like I was holding on by the tips of my fingers, but I refused to give up. On so many occasions, I doubted myself, wondering if I really belonged in a university setting or if pursuing a degree was even the right path for me.

Yet something inside me always made me get out of bed and keep showing up. I once said in jest to the professor, ‘my motivation far exceeds my intelligence’, not realising then how true that statement really was. Although many assignments were difficult, I was able to find the information I needed or connect with the right person who could help me complete the tasks at hand.  I often reminded myself, ‘I have not come this far just to come this far’. It always seemed to spur me on in the right direction.

Sharing my experience

During my time at the UEA, I made some wonderful friendships that have shown me another side of life. Not only have I been supported through trials and tribulations, but I have also supported my friends with the wealth of experience that comes with being a mature student. There is nothing I enjoy more than sharing my experience in order to help others better their lives. My journey has also inspired my children, on many levels. My 19-year-old daughter, who left school at an early age, is now motivated to return and pursue her education with university her goal.

A living example

Now I have a degree, I plan to work within the criminal justice system, supporting people released from prison. I know the difficulties in re-entering the community, especially if you have no family or friends to support you. It is a vulnerable time, navigating a way through hostels, probation offices, and benefits agencies. The temptation is there to resort back to old behaviour patterns.

Instead I want now to be a living example that it is possible to change, and not only that, but to build a meaningful life worth staying out of prison for. I am not a fan of looking back with remorse and regret but rather looking forward and making positive changes in day-to-day life. I like the quote that says, ‘For we are not judged by the height to which we climb, but rather the depth from which we climbed.’

Charity and goodwill

A big thank you to the Longford Trust for believing in me. The kind words from Clare, Peter and the team, and the high level of support and encouragement I received, were unparalleled. I am forever grateful to you guys, and I hope that in the future, I will be able to mentor and support scholars with the same charity and goodwill shown to me.  I am a proud Longford scholar and I hold my head high as a Longford Trust graduate.

If you are inspired by Andrew’s story to give university education a go, or know someone who could be, contact Clare at the Longford Trust; clare@longfordtrust.org 

Two small brown dogs walking on leads in a park

Could do better – and I did!

Author: | 19 Aug 2025

School can be a difficult experience for many people. Our Ambassador Lisa reflects on her schooldays, poor career guidance and how she found a way to focus on what she loves. As she says, if you need a degree, ‘reach for the moon’.

Could do better… sound familiar? My school reports were always full of ‘could do better’ remarks. A useless comment, leaving me wondering just how the hell I was supposed to do better! If I could do better, I would have done better.

School for me was horrible and I really did not want to be there, at all. The only subject I enjoyed was English as you got to read books and I’ve always been quite the bookworm. The rest, though, seemed pointless. Remember trigonometry? If you are standing in a boat and looking up at a 250-metre cliff, what is the angle you are looking up at? If I was ever in a boat looking up at a cliff, I definitely wouldn’t be worrying about the angle. I’d more likely be frantically waving my arms around and screaming for help.

I thought education wasn’t for me

I remember asking the teacher, ‘why do I need to learn this?’ Her answer: ‘It’s in the curriculum’. So, I asked, ‘what job would I need trigonometry for?’ only to be told, ‘stop messing around and get on with your work’.

I despised hockey and gym. Loathed computer science. Couldn’t understand physics… I think you get the picture. I also had a tendency to mess around in class – setting the gas taps in the physics lab alight (without a Bunsen burner attached) or liberating the frogs from the biology lab, or hiding in the suspended ceiling – only to come crashing down in the middle of the lesson.

I left school after my GCSEs, only scraping passes. The careers advisor, back in those days, was useless. When asked what I enjoyed doing, I replied, ‘I love training and being with my dog’. She promptly stated that I ‘couldn’t play with dogs as a job’ and told me to be either a nurse (no way, I hate the sight of blood), a teacher (I hate school!) or work in a bank but I needed to go and do an OND in Business and Finance.

So, off to college I went, obtaining a Merit for my efforts. At the urging of my family, I continued on to do an HND in Business and Finance, this time a Distinction. College life suited me far better than school, with better learning support and continuous assessments through assignments, rather than focusing on exams.

What next after prison?

During my time in prison, I started thinking about what to do upon release, seeing as I couldn’t and didn’t want to return to the job I had. While working full-time as a single mum, I somehow found time to follow my childhood dream and became a qualified dog trainer. On reflecting, I realised how happy I was during moments of teaching at dog training classes. I decided to build on this.

It was, after all, what I should have done all those years after my GCSEs. As a dog trainer, I remembered how people would ask me questions that crossed from training into the realm of dog behaviour. I was also fascinated by the head trainer who ran courses for reactive dogs with real tangible results.

Now I have just passed the second year of my degree in Animal Behaviour and Welfare with the support of the Longford Trust. I am aiming to become a Clinical Animal Behaviourist, helping owners with naughty pets. I’m doing really well, too, with grades that are higher than anything I ever gained in school. The support I’ve received as a mature student going back into learning has been incredible, with tutors on hand to offer academic guidance on how to get to grips with new technologies to help you learn.

The Longford mentoring has been invaluable to me. My mentor Andrew has been able to give me advice and guidance on tackling everything from university study to setting up my business and scaling it to fit in with my studies. I feel that having a mentor means I am accountable to someone which has helped to keep me focused and reaching my goals.

The takeaway from my story is this… if you enjoy something, then the learning becomes easy and enjoyable. So have a think about what you enjoy, and then look what qualifications you need. If you need a degree, then reach for the moon and, even if you fall short, you’ll end up among the stars.

Want to study for a degree but need some financial and mentoring support after leaving prison? Take a look at our Scholarships and Awards page.

Tall buildings the City of London with a blue sky behind

Finding a career – hard work but not impossible

Author: | 5 Aug 2025

A degree is one step on the road to a career. Our scholar AJ writes about the confidence, sense of purpose, determination and sheer hard work required to land a dream job in finance.

I began my higher education journey with the Open University. It offered flexibility and a chance to rebuild, a foundation I deeply valued. With the unwavering support of the Longford Trust and my mentor, I became truly invested in learning. It wasn’t just about education anymore. It gave me direction and purpose. I explored further opportunities through projects like Open Book at Goldsmiths, University of London. That gave me the confidence to make the move to a ‘bricks-and-mortar’ university, a turning point that allowed me to fully immerse myself in student life.

When I was able to go from prison to a campus university on day release, I wasn’t just learning about my chosen subject anymore. I was gaining a broader understanding of business culture and how to navigate the world beyond university and prison walls.

Personal growth

That shift sparked something bigger: personal growth. I became more confident, more focused, and more driven. I threw myself into building my future – refining my CV, crafting a strong cover-letter, polishing my LinkedIn profile, and engaging in as many extra-curricular activities as possible. But I knew that wouldn’t be enough on its own.

Because of prison, I faced additional challenges when applying for internships. So, I tapped into every support network I could. I searched for employers and opportunities that understood the value of unconventional routes and those of us returning to education from different starting points. These were the spaces where I found the most success.

I didn’t stop there. I continually revised my CV and LinkedIn, asking for feedback from lecturers and careers advisors. I quickly realised that many sectors, especially finance, are incredibly competitive. Most applicants had no CV gaps, more relevant experience than me, more resource access and time to prepare. That pushed me to think creatively.

Every step of the way

I began reaching out within the prison service, asking the employment team to contact their networks to help me find or even negotiate relevant placements, even if they weren’t directly in my chosen industry. I focused on building transferable skills: business acumen; professional communication; and technical knowledge. I broadened my search to alternative industries with finance teams. I also secured a mentorship with Generation Success, who provided access to internships tailored for people like me. I explored programmes linked to the prison service, such as those run by DHL and Thames Water, and contacted organisations specifically designed to support individuals with similar backgrounds.

Every step of the way, I’ve had to be self-directed. Nothing was handed to me. I had to go out and find it – often in spaces that weren’t built to support this kind of journey. Let’s be honest: prison isn’t designed to help people find career-relevant internships. But I knew early on that being proactive was my only route forward.

You earn your success

Now, I’m in the second week of my first internship – in financial technology, at a firm in the City. Just recently, I had a conversation with the Head of Finance at another location to discuss the possibility of a placement year in corporate finance. These opportunities didn’t fall into my lap. If, like me, you are likely to face obstacles, then going out and creating opportunity is the way forward. They do exist – you just have to work hard and look harder.

Today, I’m proud to say I have three mentors: one from the Longford Trust, one from Generation Success, and one from my current internship. I’m learning the value of being self-driven, the power of mentorship, and the importance of building relationships.

To anyone else navigating an unconventional route: stay focused. Be patient. Don’t let rejection or setbacks knock you off course. The path might be different. It might be harder. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I’m confident I’ll achieve my goals, and I know I’ll learn so much along the way. And for me, that’s what really matters.

AJ has now secured a public sector corporate finance internship.

If you, or your employer, can offer internships or work experience, please do contact Roxanne, our Employability Manager, at employ@longfordtrust.org

Woman smiling at the camera, in a park

A scholar’s rocky road to a fulfilling career

Author: | 22 Jul 2025

Imogen Andrews made a big impact on the audience when she spoke from the stage at the Longford Lecture in 2013 about her love for geology, her degree subject. ‘It rocks’, she said. Later, though, she dropped out of her degree but the support she experienced as a Longford Scholar, she now writes, has contributed to where she has got to in her career, running her own successful fundraising consultancy.

Life doesn’t always follow a planned route. My university journey, made possible by a Longford Trust scholarship, was unexpectedly cut short by a family breakdown that led to homelessness. Suddenly, the academic path I was on vanished. The future I’d imagined felt distant.

However, even amidst this crisis, support arrived from unexpected corners. The immediate crisis of homelessness was addressed by a dedicated charity that stepped in decisively, providing the crucial first month’s rent that enabled me to secure a place to live. Another organisation then provided essential supplies. These were distinct acts of kindness, each playing a vital role in my ability to rebuild.

Working in a gold mine

Before the family breakdown disrupted my studies, the Longford Trust had provided me with extra help to deal with the complex maths that was part of the geology course, via Margaret, an advanced maths teacher who was one of their volunteers.  Then, through my mentor, Luke, I was offered an extraordinary opportunity: work experience with his company in Africa on a gold mine.

This experience was truly transformative. Beyond the fascinating geology, a real-world immersion in the earth’s composition, I learned invaluable lessons about different cultures and myself. It undoubtedly gave me a unique perspective and a real-world edge. My education took an unexpected turn when I discovered first-hand the impressive (and slightly alarming) defensive spray of certain local beetles – a practical lesson in organic chemistry that university hadn’t prepared me for.

But survival then took precedence when I had to leave university. I grabbed the first job available: door-to-door fundraising. It wasn’t what I expected, going house-to-house, talking to strangers. It was a challenging start. But something clicked.

Sharing the support I had received

Connecting with people about a cause, inspiring them to help, felt meaningful. It was a way to give back, channelling the support I had received into benefiting others. I found my stride, moving into other areas of fundraising. I began to excel, consistently surpassing targets and breaking fundraising records.

My connection with the Longford Trust remained a source of incredible moments, both during and after my formal studies, with the annual lectures being a consistent high point. One year, after I had spoken on stage about the scholarship’s impact, I had the truly surreal and awesome experience of Vivienne Westwood calling me magnificent. It was a lifetime highlight, a moment of pure validation from someone so iconic.

Eventually, the skills and experience I gained in fundraising led me to a new ambition. I enjoyed the energy, the challenge, the direct link between my work and positive change. The skills I was developing – communication, resilience, empathy – felt incredibly valuable.

Where life can take you

Five years on, I lead my own fundraising and consulting agency. It’s a reality I couldn’t have envisioned, underscoring how initial opportunities can shape unexpected successes. The Longford Trust’s belief in me, and the experience in Africa, remain invaluable, even though my path diverged from academia. Overcoming homelessness and family breakdown, thanks to crucial early support, revealed an unforeseen strength in fundraising, which has become both my career and a source of genuine purpose. My journey is a testament to how life’s detours can lead to surprisingly fulfilling destinations.

Man smiling on green grass overlooking the sea

“I never know what he gets out of it. I get plenty”

Author: | 7 Jul 2025

Mentoring is a crucial part of our work. Every Longford Scholar is accompanied through their years at university by one of our trained Longford Trust mentors. These volunteers, who are all ages and come from all walks of life, generously give their time, energy and goodwill to supporting our scholars through what can be difficult transitions. Former journalist and lecturer Rob Campbell reflects on what mentoring means to him.

‘What did he do? Is he a murderer?’. That’s the first question friends asked when I became a Longford mentor.

Naturally I didn’t tell them, but I don’t blame them for asking. Crime is so fascinating that it dominates our headlines and, when we can’t get enough, we devour dramatized versions on television or read yet another thriller.

The reality of mentoring someone who’s done time, however, starts with parking that fascination, easily done because most offending seems too miserable and depressing to make a good story anyway.

What’s been more fascinating for me, since first meeting my mentee nearly three years ago, is how to understand the challenges faced by someone choosing the path of rehabilitation.

I’ve had to learn that while my mentee has done his time, paid his debt to society, and is officially no longer defined by an offence, there’s a hidden part of his sentence that continues.

Mentees might struggle with any or more of the following: finding self-discipline after years of being subject to someone else’s; handling fear of new friends discovering their past; difficulties in finding housing and work; trouble with past relationships.

Supportive in a crisis

Learning how to listen to any of that, effectively, has kept me on my toes. I learnt a lot from the Longford Trust’s training, and I’ve found the team always available for guidance, and very supportive in a crisis, but I’m no expert in any of these issues. I’m a retired lecturer, and my main experience of the justice system is from the press benches as a former journalist.

What I’ve learned, and am still learning, is that listening well depends on understanding your relationship with your mentee. It’s an odd one because you’re not their friend, parent, sibling, colleague, probation officer, social worker, lecturer, doctor, or grant-giver. You have no authority or leverage, and little to offer beyond a listening ear.

Listening ear

So I just listen, actively, to his ideas, plans, and worries, and it sounds serious but we have some laughs. Like when he couldn’t focus on reading in his room, with all the distractions of housemates and screens, and I asked him when reading was easier. The answer was in a cell, so he booked himself a silent study pod in the library and I felt like I’d sent him back inside. We’ve had a lot of laughs, mostly on FaceTime but also walking on the beach near his university, watching the waves, stopping for a pizza.

I may never know what he gets out of our meetings but I get plenty. There’s potentially the pride of helping him stay out of prison (and saving us all the cost) but I’ll never know. So it’s the other things that count: meeting someone outside of my usual cosy circles, admiring someone winning against the odds, and learning and re-learning the importance of listening.’

We have more than 80 volunteer mentors at present – either matched or about to be matched with scholars. Our sincere thanks to them for their commitment. Interested in becoming a mentor to someone in or leaving prison? Contact Veena at mentors@longfordtrust.org and watch our video about the value and impact of the mentoring relationship.