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.

A good news story for prison education – and what it could be…

Author: | 9 Jun 2025

With prison education under strain, our Ambassador, journalist David Shipley, finds a new report ‘incredibly encouraging’ on the effectiveness of the in-cell education channel Way2Learn, part of WayOut TV that operates in half of all prisons

Prison education is a strange beast. Everyone seems to recognise how important it is, with research by the Ministry of Justice in 2018 having found thatpeople who had participated in education whilst in prisons were significantly less likely to reoffend within 12 months of release. Part of this may be because people who leave prison with good literacy and numeracy are more likely to find, and keep a job after release. We know, of course, that being in work is one of the most significant factors reducing someone’s likelihood of reoffending. So the Ministry of Justice, and the Prison Service, want education in prisons to be widely-available and of good quality.

Unfortunately it often falls short. Ofsted, the education standards’ body responsible for inspecting education in prisons and young offenders institutions, ‘have long been concerned about the standards of education in our prisons’.

Partly, this is due to limited budgets and the resultant challenges around hiring good teachers to work in prisons. But the environment itself is a barrier to education. Our jails are becoming less safe, with assaults up 14 per cent in the last annual figures, and serious assaults up 13 per cent. Dangerous, crowded prisons make learning hard. If a prisoner is concerned about their physical safety, they may find it almost impossible to concentrate in a lesson. Those who are worried about their safety travelling from cell to classroom may decide to stay ‘banged-up’ and avoid the risk of education entirely.

Barrier of embarrassment and shame

Another barrier to education can be shame. Around two-thirds of prisoners having literacy skills below that expected of an 11-year-old, and many dropped-out or were excluded from the education system. As a result, and unsurprisingly, they find the thought of sitting in a classroom and having their lack of education made public embarrassing and shameful. This fear alone can deter many prisoners from participating in education.

In order to address these barriers, WayOutTV created Way2Learn a decade ago. This service offers 18 scheduled courses, covering everything from music and creative writing to food hygiene and construction. There are also courses on broader skills, like goal-setting and running a business. Prisoners participate by watching the course segments and then completing and submitting worksheets to Way2Learn, where they are marked. Results got towards qualifications awarded by UWE.

‘An avenue of learning’

Now academics from UWE have conducted an impact evaluation of Way2Learn. What they’ve found is incredibly encouraging. Prison staff, prison governors and former Way2Learn students all have very positive views on the service. Way2Learn gives prisoners a sense of purpose, improving their mental health, while also developing useful skills. It also provides ‘an avenue of learning for…men who struggle to engage with more mainstream or traditional learning’.

The report  is a fascinating and encouraging document. After reading it I reflected that Way2Learn shows what the future of much prison education could be. The Prison Service is determined to increase the use of technology in our jails. More and more prisons are rolling-out in-cell ‘laptops’, which inmates can use to contact staff, email friends and family and perform prison ‘life-admin’ tasks (but not go on the internet).

Way2Learn could and should be offered on these systems, allowing prisoners to study a wide range of subjects in their cells, and removing the need for paper forms. I do hope that Prisons’ Minister James Timpson reads this evaluation . It’s clear that the prison service could do much more by working constructively with Way2Learn.

Read our scholars’ stories

What funding is available for people with convictions or in prison to study for a degree? See our Scholarships page.

Slot machines in an arcade

My journey back from gambling addiction

Author: | 17 Jul 2024

Our 2024 graduate Sian McLear was 26 and had a successful career in finance when a night out at the bingo catapulted her into gambling addiction so strong that it ultimately saw her jailed. As she starts her post-graduate career with the Beacon Charitable Trust, the charity she credits with saving her life, she reflects on how she embraced her second chance though higher education with our help.

I can’t really pin point how or why my gambling turned harmful. I just remember going to the bingo with colleagues and having to open an online account to be able to attend. That’s when the promotions / hounding started. I had a significant win and an offer of a free bet or a stake of no more than £1. I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to win big again I will, I will’.

Before I knew it, I was secretly staying up all night playing slots on my phone while my husband was in bed asleep. I was physically incapable of stopping until every last penny in my bank account had been spent. I would then lie awake worried sick about how I was going to get all the money back.

Secrets and lies

I couldn’t tell anyone what I was doing. Just the thought of it made me physically sick. I started getting pay-day-loans and credit cards, but instead of covering the money I’d lost, I believed I’d be able to make more. So, the cycle continued. I’d got myself in that much of a mess I couldn’t see a way out of the debt which is when I turned to what I believed was the only way out: I stole money from work.

To me, though, it wasn’t stealing. I was just borrowing it and had every intention of paying it back. But when I ‘won big’ this carried on for three years on a daily basis with my mental health drastically declining. I was living a lie and nobody knew. I was having to hide my gambling and the state of my mental health from everyone around me.

‘My world fell apart’

I didn’t even want to gamble anymore. I enjoyed nothing about it, but yet I couldn’t stop. I thought about getting a new job, hoping it might help stop the stealing. I did not want to be doing what I was doing any more. It was causing me to self-harm. I hated myself and everything about me. Something had to give: on the day I found out I was pregnant with my son, I was sacked from my job and my world fell apart.

The scariest time of my life was waiting to find out when I would be going to court/prison. By this time my beautiful son George had been born. The fear of being taken away from him was terrifying. There were a couple of times I contemplated suicide. One specific time I drank half a bottle of my dad’s liquid morphine, not because I wanted to die, but because I wanted to be able to sleep and make everything go away.

I needed help but the doctor prescribed antidepressants for my addiction. As (at the time) I was pregnant, I didn’t want to take them. Thankfully, through my own efforts, I came across the Beacon Counselling Trust, a charity offering free support to those suffering with gambling-related harm. The support I received greatly helped to quell my fears and prepare for prison.

One bad choice away from disaster

I made a promise to myself that I would turn my situation into a positive one. I realised that we are all only one bad choice/mistake away from turning our lives upside down, and that it’s not the end. It does not mean this has to be our path going forward. It can be a new the start of a new beginning.

Whilst in prison, there were certainly days I felt like giving up but I knew that, if not for me but for my son, I was going to make something out of it. I decided I wanted to study, to help other people like myself and be able to make a difference.  I decided on a university degree. I was put in touch with The Longford Trust who were invaluable in guiding me through the university application process whilst I was in prison.

In fact, throughout my studies the trust has not only provided me with financial help but peer support which, to be honest, was way more valuable than the money. Having one-to-one support with someone who knew and understood my situation gave me the courage to fight my anxieties and worries.

Second chances

Four years on, I have just graduated with a BA in criminology and psychology from Liverpool John Moores University and have successfully obtained a job as an Education and Brief Intervention Lead in none other than the charity that effectively saved my life, Beacon Counselling Trust. I am now helping those experiencing what I have been through, as well as fighting to prevent it happening.

Writing this is not about wishing to share my story. What I am hoping to do is inspire others to believe in themselves. A prison sentence is not the end. It can be used to learn and grow. With the help of organisations such as The Longford Trust, there’s no stopping us.

If you or anyone else you know might be suffering as a result of the issues raised in this article, do get in touch with Gambling Aware, a national network of organisations working together to provide free and confidential support for anyone impacted by gambling.

 

Hindsight is a wonderful thing

Author: | 7 May 2024

As he nears release, our Longford scholar Isaac Rasmussen is reflecting on the past decisions that led him from Royal Marine to prisoner. He describes how going to university is the first step on what he plans will be a career in journalism

As a serving prisoner I have done my fair share of fixating on one point in my life and asking myself where did it all go wrong? And, if I could change or take back that decision, would everything would be different. For me, the decision in question was to leave the Royal Marines.

In itself, it might not have been fatal. The problem was that no preparation was put in place to secure a seamless transition into civilian life. I fell back on the old Bootneck (Royal Marine) mantra “no cuff too tuff’’, meaning we’re always up for taking on the biggest challenges. We improvise, adapt and overcome – and approach it all with a sense of humour.

It was not long before it became apparent that this cuff was a little tougher than usual. I bounced from pointless job to no job to pointless job again. I moved up north as it had more affordable housing, and I still had friends there from the Corps (Royal Marines). But nothing filled the void the Corps had left. It was not long before I was ready to fill that gap with whatever would give me any kind of purpose and excitement, something that could happen to anyone in these circumstances, although some might be more vulnerable than others.

Preparation, preparation, preparation

I now realise, regardless of whether I decided to leave the Royal Marines or not, that if I had altered my mindset towards even the loosest of plans, I probably would not have found myself in trouble (within reason). Structure and focus in any positive direction would have prevented me from having a knee-jerk reaction to events and situations that life threw at me.  The military phrase I should have been focusing on is, “fail to prepare, prepare to fail”. It suits long-term goals infinitely better than “no cuff too tuff” which only works with short-term goals needing swift action.

I am learning, with the help of family, friends and now the Longford Trust, to balance taking risks with preparing properly.  Knowing that I will have a constant in Longford Trust from my first day of university to my release from prison and on to my first job and beyond helps to keep me grounded and concentrate on preparing for every eventuality. Through my mentor, or by engaging in the workshops and events, I can see that the Longford Trust understands where I have come from. It is a non-judgmental group of people I can count on for advice in a world that still does not quite understand the prisoner and the issues they face.

Turning Point

I now accept the decision to leave the Royal Marines had nothing to do with my subsequent failures and bad decisions. It is about how I went about things going forward. The real moral of my story is to not fixate on that single moment when you think it all went wrong. It is more likely that a pattern of events, fuelled by a pattern of behaviour, is what truly led to the negativity in your life. And the beauty of that truth is that it takes exactly same mechanism to improve things.

That means to improve your behaviour gradually over time, in regard of small events, and eventually you will see a change in your life for the better. The success can still feel as if it all happened by chance, but, if my experience is anything to go by, it didn’t. You effect the change habitually and you reap the rewards.

Education

Education is all around us. There is no such thing as useless knowledge. However, academia was never my strong suit. I always struggled in school. It was not because I didn’t understand what was being taught. I just did not really get on with the school system and so ultimately did not thrive.

Joining the Royal Marines meant that no more academia, for a while at least. But, of course, there were still things to be learnt at great pace and under great physical and mental pressure. I suffered, struggled, improved and struggled some more until I found a groove. The suffering never ended, it was me who got used to it. I even found a way to enjoy it. I have hung on to these tools.

I chose to study media, journalism and publishing because of my interest in becoming a journalist. During my time at my previous category C prison, I had ideas on studying history, but as time went on, I swayed more into the direction of studying journalism. From a logical point of view journalism offers more opportunities and different job types. Especially, with a course like the one I am on at Oxford Brookes University where journalism is grouped alongside media and publishing.  When I leave prison, that will help with as seamless a transition as possible into the job market doing something that will challenge me and keep me engaged. That is crucial to my rehabilitation.

On a personal level, I always dreamt from early childhood of somehow leaving my mark on the world. I didn’t know how, and to this day still don’t. Becoming a journalist is my way finally of finding the answer. So, here I am embarking on yet another journey in to the unknown. Studying will be a struggle, but no matter how hard it gets I know I have been here before and I am supported and equipped to get there in the end.

If you are a past or present scholar, or one of our mentors, and have a blog you want to contribute, contact Clare Lewis.