Category: mentoring

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.

A pumpkin pie with a face decorated in sugar

‘The week I learned to cry’

Author: | 4 Nov 2025

Our recent graduate Douglas Edgar has just returned from a prestigious writers’ retreat at Villa Pia in Umbria, made possible by one of our travelling scholarships. In reflecting on the lessons learnt, he hopes the next step will be to realise his ambition for a creative arts career.

‘Forza Nonna’ was the cheer as Sondra, from Rochester, New York, poured custard into the famous ‘Torta della Nonna’ base. Translated as ‘grandmother cake’, there are two layers of short-crust pastry filled with vanilla custard, hints of lemon zest, all covered in powdered sugar. I met a Nonna once – Brooklyn-based and South Italian-born. Fierce, vain, and shameless with set blonde hair, long red nails and tattooed eyebrows, well into her 90s. An Italian Mary Berry.

Enrolling in the cookery class at the writers’ retreat, I saw the opportunity to move away from my go-to meal of chicken breast, rice and broccoli. Umbria is a place where vegetables have real flavour. However, I saw three pots on the stove at one time and thought ‘cooking’s not for me’. Alas, five fellow retreaters and Gessy, the in-house chef, combined to make the following from scratch:

  1. Lasagna with ragu sauce.
  2. Spinach and ricotta ravioli with sage and butter sauce.
  3. Semola (not semolina) gnocchi with truffled béchamel.
  4. Vanilla panna cotta with forest fruits.
  5. Torta della Nonna.

Being the second group to cook, I felt pressured to beat the previous day’s class, so I spent 30 minutes drawing a pumpkin stencil to level up our Nonna cake. Consulting with my artist-cum-culinary neighbour, Tania, I cut the stencil and rubbed the pencil marks off the steel worktops. The lasagna came out of the oven and victory was in sight. We’d made one more pasta dish than yesterday’s group and had a pumpkin on top of a cake.

I know people will want my top Italian-cooking tip, so here it is: ‘cut out the eyes, nose and mouth for the perfect stencil’. I’m joking, but I have tried to remember when I have learned, and in summary, I prefer eating food a lot more than preparing it.

Beyond cooking

Cooking was an escape from writing. I cried more this week than I had in the past 10 years combined. On a foggy day, I built the fire in the dining room whilst a peer explained how she became her mum’s primary carer in the final stages of cancer treatment. The damage from radiotherapy would cause skin to erode into her mouth, making her choke at night.

Up to five years after her passing, she emptied the washing basket and would see her mother’s nightie on the floor, choosing not to wash it to keep a part of her there. Not for the smell but for presence. I’ve never been so affected by words, and I began to cry uncontrollably – a soul captured in a nightdress.

We discussed the logistics – the inflatable mattress beside the hospital bed – but it would never be written about. Instead, she chose to re-write a dystopian novel. Feeling that thousands would benefit from her experience, sci-fi seemed like a distraction, but hearing her story reminded me to dig-deep and face the subjects I’m avoiding.

Souls collide

Inevitably, some people would work out that my fellow Longford scholar and I were ex-prisoners. It would be exciting for them, like Shawshank Redemption in real life, or Le ali della libertà as the Italians would say. Was he a Hatton Garden robber? Maybe a mass murderer?

I overheard someone worry that they were becoming institutionalised by Villa Pia’s ritual of cake at 4pm, which made me reflect on my somewhat different experience. Conversation helped to diffuse the tension, and some of us would sit for hours into the night, talking through the fluff, and their payment would be gruesome tales of prison.

Friday night’s gala rounded off with karaoke, facilitated by yours truly. More importantly, everyone shared a few minutes of writing to the group. Another peer’s story was based around an AI imposter’s attempt to infiltrate the retreat, analysing human interactions whilst fighting off the occasional system glitch. The story’s finale is quoted below:

“I meet novelty for the first time this week. We embrace each other in a hug and thank you for the trust. On the bed I stare at the ceiling and review every word he’s said to me since we’ve met two days ago. Not artificial. So that’s a soul.”

The character being referenced, Jeremy, was based on me, and for the third time that week I thought ‘bloody hell I’m crying again’.

Reform happens through genuine interactions.

A fond farewell

The Haven is knowing that you’re protected – no matter who you are, no matter what you share, no matter how much you cry. In that respect, Villa Pia was my Nonna.

So, it’s back to Tesco’s veg and imported wine, only now I understand the richness of my own soil. From tutors-to-teammates, thank you for your understanding, trust and camaraderie.

Forza Stories!

Douglas joined the annual ‘Haven for Stories Retreat’, thanks to one of our Longford travelling scholarships. Our gratitude goes to Tobias Jones, Alice Vincent and Elise Valmorbida, the three acclaimed writers who teach each year at the retreat, and to Villa Pia’s owner, Morag Cleland, a former Longford Trust mentor, for making these bursary places available to our scholars.

 

 

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.

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.

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.

Person's hand holding an academic mortar board in the air

“Anything is possible, if you try hard enough”

Author: | 24 Jun 2025

Our Frank Awards help people in prison who want to start an Open University degree. For most it is their first attempt at higher education. One of our Frank Award holders recently graduated in Global Development. At his graduation ceremony, held in the prison and attended by his family and Longford Trust mentor, he said some important words about what getting a degree meant for him that he has allowed us to share.

‘Firstly, I’d like to thank you all for coming here today. This is a very rare and special occasion with family, friends, the Longford Trust, the prison and Open University all coming together to celebrate, what for me, is a wonderful accomplishment. It really does mean a lot, so thank you all. In many ways, it is a vital reminder that opportunities here in prison are crucial and must be maintained. We change lives together. I stand here before you as a clear example that, with the right nurturing, resolution, and dedication to hard work, education is the only true form of self-rehabilitation.

I am extremely proud of what I have achieved. I am an individual who grew up on a council estate, who has made some serious mistakes in his life, but decided that I won’t let these define my future, or the person I want to be. What I am is a hardworking, pragmatic, and determined individual. I have been described as relentless and laser-focused by some, but also as a right pain in the backside by others. I wouldn’t class myself as highly intelligent, or even extremely clever. I have nothing more than average intelligence. I have nothing uniquely special about me. Well, apart from my dashing good looks and modesty, that is.

My journey can be an inspiration

But on a serious note, I came to prison 18 years ago with no formal academic qualifications as I had left school without sitting my GCSEs. I subsequently joined the British Army, which is what I had always wanted to do, following in my grandfather’s footsteps. When I left, I became self-employed and owned a number of successful businesses, as I have always been very good with finances and making money. Maybe that’s why I ended up getting involved with the wrong crowds, making regrettable decisions and, within a few years, receiving a prison sentence. It was at this point, I decided to try and turn my life around for the better, and use my time in prison as constructively as I possibly could.

I completed my GCSEs, A Levels, and then enrolled on a business degree and continue on my journey to complete a Masters in Global Development. Securing the funding was such an uphill battle, which took a lot out of me, self-funding through myself, family, friends and writing letters to charities, requesting grants and donations. Without all of these individuals, this achievement, just would not have been possible. Completing my Masters has been so fulfilling, but I am acutely aware that there are many prisoners who face similar challenges in their quest to better themselves. Many end up with brick walls in their way, so I hope that my journey can be an inspiration to these men and women, and give them hope for the future, despite the obstacles and hurdles that the system sometimes presents.

Education beyond what I dreamed possible

Notwithstanding all this, studying was one of the most rewarding times of my imprisonment. It took my level of education well beyond whatever I could have dreamed possible. I do not come from a family of academics. In fact, I am the first person in my whole family to have obtained a degree and now a Masters. I have embraced every challenge to achieve my ambitions and aspirations. I have worked, and continue to work, extremely hard to the best of my ability not just for myself, but for my family.

I am eternally grateful to my loved ones, as they are my inspiration, especially my mother and grandmother for, without their unwavering support, help and encouragement, I would not have completed this. I would also like to dedicate this achievement to my three children and my two grandchildren. Everything I do, I do it for them.

Evidently investment in my education has had a multi-layered effect, which has inspired my youngest son to follow in my footsteps. He is currently in his final year at university in Manchester. I am so proud of him, as I am of all my children.

Learn as if you were to live forever

I would also like to point out that this accomplishment has only been made possible with help of charities like the Longford Trust (amongst others) who have provided financial help and support to me along the way. I am very grateful to them for my mentor, James, for his unflinching support. He has provided me with his time, knowledge, and expertise which have been invaluable. Thank you, James.

Gandhi once said, “Live as if you were to die tomorrow, learn as if you were to live forever”. In the future, I hope doing events and discussions like this here today may motivate, enthuse, and show people both inside and outside of prison that you can still reap the rewards of hard work, and make the most out of a bad situation. Anything is possible, if you try hard enough.’

Our Frank Awards are grants for serving prisoners to cover the cost of one full module (60 credits) towards degrees at the Open University.  They are run as a joint project with the Prisoners’ Education Trust, supported financially by the Linbury Trust. To apply for a Frank Award, check our eligibility information and download the form. The closing date for OU modules starting in October is 15 August.

How education gave me a second chance

Author: | 24 Mar 2023

Excluded from school for being disruptive Neil had no interest in education when he was sent to prison. But slowly he caught the learning bug and now has a degree to his name.  For Longford Blog he describes how, with our backing, he landed his dream job in prison reform.

 

The letters A,B,C,D are probably the most important determination of a teenager’s future, the higher the letter, the better their chances of carving out a successful career. Unfortunately for me, instead of getting a GCSE grade, I received a different sort of B – I was sent to a Category B prison.

 

Even if I’d stayed at school I probably wouldn’t have passed any of my exams. I had no enthusiasm for education, was disruptive and an all-round nuisance for the teachers who passionately gave up their time despite my antics. Looking back, this was even more depressing as I actually had an ability to achieve: I started out in all the top sets but found myself in the lower tiers because of my behaviour.

 

I was suspended and subsequently permanently expelled. A gaping hole in my personal development and a lack of structure left me destined for failure. And I became the ultimate failure, committed an horrendous crime and – rightly so -received a custodial sentence for longer than I had been alive.

 

Getting back on track

 

Spending time in the juvenile prison estate meant that I was faced with my arch nemesis again – education. True to fashion, I wasn’t interested, had zero motivation to learn, and attended just to get out of my cell. Now, 16 years on, I have a degree with first-class honours, am halfway through an MA in Crime and Justice, and I already have a blueprint for a possible PhD.

 

So how did I get hooked on education? In prison there is a requirement to complete Maths and English to an adequate level. For me this was boring but essential. Once you have completed the foundations, other courses become available. After spending four years passing English and Maths, I was invited to study Sociology at GCSE level. At this point I was more mature and enjoyed my tutor using the Sociology syllabus to help me understand how society works. As well as a qualification, I was learning about myself and how I had found myself in prison.

 

Getting motivated

 

I guess when there is an intrinsic motivation you are more committed to learn. As time went on, I was excited by study. I even washed the sleep out of my eyes to ensure I was bright and early for class. As well as attending lessons, I would pull out the books on a night-time and indulge in reading stuff outside the syllabus.

 

I stuck at it and achieved a respectable grade B. I had caught the education bug. With the same inspirational teacher, I next completed 7 more GCSEs. Then my tutor suggested I start higher education at The Open University.

 

Distance Learning and Student Loans

 

I continued with the Social Sciences, took advantage of a student loan to pay for my OU module costs and dedicated my time to learning. After navigating the prison system’s distance learning troubles, I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Social Sciences. I was ready to stop there. I was already anxious about release and didn’t want to incur any more debts through student finance.

 

Fortunately, I was responsible for helping other prisoners choose higher education opportunities and was made aware by my peers of what The Longford Trust offers. I noticed the energy and positivity among those who were on a Longford Scholarship and I wanted in! I applied and, to my delight, they awarded me three years of funding towards an MA in Crime and Justice.

 

A scholarship that goes beyond money

 

Once I had been accepted, the Trust’s director came to meet me in prison, explained that the scholarship is more than paying for tuition fees, and talked to me about finding a suitable mentor. Over and above the financial aspect of the scholarship, one of the key advantages it provides is having one of the Trust’s trained mentors to support you one-to-one.

 

I have now been in the community for twelve months and The Longford Trust has shared my resettlement journey with me. As well as getting my studies transferred smoothly from prison to community, they have offered me professional advice and a helping hand whenever I need it. So much so that they helped me land my dream job of helping fight for fairer outcomes in the criminal justice system. My rehabilitation journey would look incredibly different without them.

 

If you feel inspired by Neil’s story and would like to apply for a Longford Scholarship, contact Clare Lewis for details or an application form, or write to her at Freepost, Longford Trust (you don’t need a stamp)

What it means to be home for good

Author: | 6 Mar 2023

Many of our newly-released Longford Scholars are beginning – or continuing – their university studies at the same time as adjusting to being out, being back at home, being with their families, and with everything that goes with that. For Longford Blog, current scholar Mark reflects on the good things and the challenges he has faced since his recent release.

 

I want to try to give others an understanding of the challenges and difficulties those who have left custody face around adjusting back into family life while, at the same time, studying and trying to become a rehabilitated, functioning member of society.

 

Firstly, we all have a past, and I know there’ll be other people out there in my position who feel alone in their desire to change while still battling old habits so as to become a better person. Since release, some of the things I have noticed are stigmas and pre-judgements from those who don’t know what we have been through.

 

Change isn’t easy at any time

There is little understanding of how difficult it is redefining yourself when you have your past behaviours, the lack of self-belief you can feel, the lack of confidence and/or lack of education that gets in the way of taking the step to embark on a university degree.  Change isn’t easy at any time especially when facing how others may view you and the impact this can have.

 

When I look back to my old impulsive choices – negative choices – that I made without thinking, now I believe that these actions grew out of the rejection I faced as a child from my family, the people who were meant to love me. The lack of support I received contributed to behaviours in me that led at times to people getting hurt, often through what I would say. It was, I now see, ‘people-pleasing’ and trying to fit in. The negative opinions that people throw at you can be a huge hinderance when you’ve actively tried to change your life and be better.

 

How day-release helps

It was good to have the opportunity to come home on ROTL before coming home full-time. I could start to plan for release and to think about what a new routine might look like. Being home meant I was able to do work around the house that was certainly required and overdue – like decorating the wear and tear in the children’s bedrooms and other areas of the home that have come with their additional needs around behaviour.

 

And it has allowed me to spend time with my partner and children, rebuilding those ties and bonds. I could take them to school and be part of their education and be visible to their teachers. I attended their hospital appointments and, thereby, took some of the  pressure off my partner. There were fun family activities too. I began get to know them again as they have grown up a lot in the time I was away.

 

Most of the time, then, it was a positive exercise. But it was also very hard for the children to see me come and then go. They couldn’t understand why Dad couldn’t stay at home. One thing I will never forget was when I came home and decorated and changed their bedrooms. They didn’t believe I would do it before I had to go back to prison. But I did.

 

It’s not as simple as it sounds: you are always worrying about when you must be back at the prison and therefore spend a lot of time clock-watching. If you are late, even by five minutes, you can be stopped from doing ROTL again.

 

Home for good

Now that I am home full-time, those time pressures have gone. Yet, there are new challenges – living with four children whilst working  and studying. A few months in, I am pleased to say that I have managed to keep up with my university work and fully intend to keep going.  But it is not easy. I am at work four days on and then have four days off. I try to spend one full day in the local library but this doesn’t always happen as anything can come up with four children.

 

When I am not at work, I tend to do the cooking as my partner does everything the rest of the time. The huge hike in the cost of living has had its impact too. I am now fully responsible for my four children, my partner and the household finances. At times that is scary. How to make ends meet causes me to lose sleep. Unexpected bills like school trips can be a huge burden. When I came home I needed a car to get to work but, due to my criminal past, the insurance was much higher than I had expected.

 

In prison time was never an issue with my studies. Now it’s hard to find. To be honest, I wasn’t prepared for what the change would mean or look like. There have been obstacles to climb.

 

Living proof

Another challenge facing those like me who haven’t had a regular education is finding the continuing motivation and support required to study at university level.  But I’m living proof – having almost completed my BA Hons in Psychology with the Open University – that with the right people like The Longford Trust behind you, it is possible and achievable. If I can do it, others can too.

 

My advice would be to be honest with those who are working with you, not to feel it’s wrong to be struggling or finding things hard as you almost certainly will at points. When the journey feels lonely and challenging have faith in what you can achieve, take it in small steps, and always make your goals SMART – specific, measurable, assignable, realistic and time-related.

 

If you are in prison or newly-released and want to study for a degree but worry about managing the challenges that will present, go to The Longford Trust’s website to find out what support is available. Or email our Scholarship Manager, Clare Lewis.

Leave a lasting impression

Author: | 22 Feb 2023

Our scholar Rishi attended one of the workshops run by the Trust’s Employability Project thinking he was pretty sorted out around finding a degree-level job on graduation. 

But he discovered he had a lot to learn and a lot to gain by coming along.

Recently I attended an employability workshop organized by the Longford Trust’s Employability team and led by Sam Smith, the CEO of PEPTalks. It was for me an incredibly valuable experience, offering insightful macro analysis of the job market with detailed micro analyses that catered to every participant whatever their career aspirations.

And so much valuable information was packed into such a short amount of time. The workshop did it all in a couple of hours!

Practical advice on the jobs market

Before going into such programmes and workshops I always think that, having already developed my CV with many experienced professionals, I have little to gain. But I am happy to report that, once again, I was wrong. Sam’s passion for helping individuals like me to succeed was evident throughout the workshop.  He provided a wealth of practical advice on how to get on in the job market, from refining a compelling personal narrative to identifying and showcasing our unique value propositions.

He also emphasised the importance of staying nimble and adaptable in today’s fast-changing job market and provided tools and strategies for doing so. All of this was delivered in an engaging and accessible manner, making it easy for every participant to grasp the essential concepts. As a follow-up to the workshop, there was specific advice tailored to each of us. It has left a lasting impression on me.

Tailor-made guidance

What impressed me most was how Sam managed to tailor his advice to each participant. Despite the time constraints and wildly different career aspirations, he managed to provide detailed and insightful analyses. His personalised attention made us all feel seen and heard, and the opportunity to learn from someone as experienced and knowledgeable was incredibly valuable.

I would also like to acknowledge the Longford Trust for organising this workshop and providing us with the opportunity to learn from such an experienced and knowledgeable speaker. As a Longford Trust scholar, I feel incredibly grateful for the opportunities to learn from people as knowledgeable as Sam. The Trust’s commitment to levelling the playing field for its scholars and giving us the opportunity to prove ourselves is truly inspiring.

Any Longford Scholars, past or present, wanting to follow in Rishi’s steps on one of our Employability training courses should contact our Employability Manager to find out more.

Aiming high: keeping hope alive in prisons

Author: | 6 May 2022

In November last year, social justice commentator George the Poet gave a thought-provoking speech to Longford supporters, scholars and mentors.

He talked about the game being rigged – not just in prisons and the justice system but across society. He said ‘there are no choices without chances’, proposing that prisons should be re-modelled as development centres with opportunities, rather than detention centres.

George’s words  [watch again here] continue to resonate, so much so that months later former scholar, Richard got in touch with his own reflections:

Time and rehabilitation

Inside you have time, time to reset. On the outside, we wish we had more of it.

Spending three years in prison from 2007-2010 gave me insight into how the prison system is ‘rigged’, stacking the odds against individuals, focused on punishment rather than rehabilitation.

I only heard the word ‘rehab’ in association with drug taking. What I experienced was underfunding, undertrained/skilled staff in rehabilitation, limited options, limited information, limited support and guidance. I pushed for avenues to develop and use time wisely, but was told, ‘we’re not geared up for people like you’.  People like me, wanting to use my time productively, rehabilitate myself. A strange response to me under the circumstances.

I took Carpentry City and Guilds, Business Studies and Personal Training courses until funding lapsed on all. I even managed, through special permission from the governor to gain internet access to complete my University application (at first denied) and just squeaked into the Autumn 2009 intake.

When I went to prison it was my first offence, devastating and traumatic for everyone involved but I had all the support anyone could want in that situation. For that I consider myself lucky. Many friends inside weren’t so fortunate. I did ok in school but I couldn’t help but question what hope there was for those spat out of school, in care, or just not encouraged when young in school, or even by their parents.

Education, work and health are the basic principles in society.

The Game is Rigged: Detention Centre or Development Centres?

34% of prisoners read at the level below an 11year old. This is no coincidence. It’s good to see we now have a prisons inspector, Charlie Taylor, who is determined to address this literacy defecit.  Prison is the last line of defence in my view, it must be a duty of society to provide these opportunities, a real option to rehabilitate, a second chance I thought. This doesn’t need to be traditional education, it starts with support and information of where to start, developing and building on your interests with opportunities associated to those outside the prison walls. A place of hope and clarity. Only then can everyone in prison look in the mirror and decide to take that option of development, or not.

Without this support the game must be rigged, right?

The only ‘help’ preparing me for my release focused on the need to tell an employer I have a criminal record and that it will never be classed as ‘spent’, emphasising to me it was against the law not to disclose.

In the first five interviews after finishing my degree I declared my record, resulting in me not moving to the next stage. In my sixth interview I said nothing, went through 2 interviews and got offered the Job. I then declared it and it was not an issue. I have moved companies five times since, all with the same outcome. I’m not necessarily advocating this approach but certainly at that time it seemed the only way to move on.

Hope and Chances : ‘Making it a worthwhile place to be’ 

 I didn’t want to become part of the system and a statistic. Educating or bettering myself however I could was a MUST, a driver for me and I’d urge everyone to think alike. There should be a trained staff member who goes around prisons, like a career advisor in effect, understanding what skills people possess and how those can be transferred into society. Would vocational, education or simple support and mentoring help?  What avenues of funding are available post release? What level does an individual need to be at on release to access a college course and help devise a road map to get there. Starting off is the hardest step of all. It’s about problem-solving – we all need to do it from time to time.

I can’t help thinking it would be great if prisons were like colleges and universities, specialised in certain areas: prison radio, cookery, trades, creative and arts, sports.  Again, become places of hope, providing the opportunity to develop an individual for their release, a successful release. Educating on not just subject matter but on life. Interpersonal skills, money management and communication are more important than ever. Giving people information on moving out of their home area, how they’ll feel, and what a new chapter can bring. And credit where credit is due it’s great to see local and national businesses, especially in construction starting to recruit from prisons. It’s an obvious talent pool, individuals can be fully trained and on site in just 12 weeks. Though maybe we shouldn’t get into the prison building plan (that’s another blog!).

So, as George the Poet says, there are no choices without chances and for now it’s largely up to organisations like Longford Trust and others to provide real tangible chance. They gave me that second chance and support I much needed at the time, 6 months prior to my release I met my mentor and secured scholarship funding which paid for my accommodation. They helped me to get a part time job and I moved from prison to university life with as little baggage as possible.

In truth, most critically they believed in me. They believed in my ability and the financial help fostered my ability to focus on my studies despite being severely dyslexic. It put me near to the opportunities my class mates had with emotional and financial support from their families. I completed my degree with a 1st class honours degree, top of my class in Project & Construction Management. With a chance given to develop, other successes will follow. There is no doubt.

I have gone on to manage over 300 men on site in central London, built some of the most prestigious, high-end hotels you can imagine to the tune of over £80m.

It all started somewhere and it’s quite easy to pinpoint. It began the day I first met my mentor.

If only the same level of hope, opportunity and belief in potential were hardwired into the prison system, then we’d have something to celebrate.

 

You can watch George the Poet’s lecture here.