Two bearded men smiling, in a coffee shop

‘In mentoring insight arrives quietly and stays’

Author: | 10 Feb 2026

Mentoring is crucial in our Longford Scholarships, alongside financial and employability support. Scholar Fedor, doing a Creative Writing degree, and his mentor Alistair began meeting last year. Fedor reflects on what their relationship has given him.

I wonder if mentorship is most often imagined as advice given, direction offered, and experience passed to an unquestioning and grateful mentee. My experience as a Longford scholar has  shown me something gentler, and far more enduring: that the most meaningful mentorship can be calm, patient, and quietly affirming.

My first meeting with Alistair began with his gift of a book about my hometown. Such kindness, forethought, and foresight. He is a retired senior lecturer who taught English for over 40 years at Sussex University. His knowledge of language, poetry, novels, and the literary canon is extraordinary, but it is never explicit, and not once impressed upon me. When it surfaces, it happens organically. Perhaps a novel is mentioned, not as instruction, but as invitation.

Our relationship, on his instigation, is filled not with advice and guidance, but with a space he creates. Conversations are effortless, unfolding without urgency or pressure. Alistair’s mentoring instinct is not to ‘fix’ anything, nor to rush me toward conclusions. He listens, and this space allows ideas to arrive imperfectly. Then he might ask a question or offer an opinion that compels me not to reassess, but simply to think harder.

‘Safety is where growth takes root’

Life, inevitably, intervenes. I had to cancel a meeting at short notice due to illness. I apologised, embarrassed and typing with a touch of guilt. In truth, I expected disappointment, or some light complaint about breaking plans already made. Alistair met my apology with grace. He accepted it fully and without fuss, and reassured me that, if I need him, he is always there and he was looking forward to our next meeting. Nothing changed. No warmth was withdrawn. No sense of a debt incurred. That kind of understanding matters more than it might sound. It creates safety – and safety, I’ve learned, is where growth takes root.

I’m a mentor myself, and here more than anywhere else Alistair’s influence is apparent; not in what he does, but in what he rejects. My time with Alistair has taught me to hold back, to listen longer. I see more clearly when not to give answers, even when I think I have them. I’m reminded that mentorship is not about shaping someone in my image, but about making room for them to become more fully themselves.

‘In every conversation, hierarchy is entirely absent’

What may surprise you, and what demonstrates our trust, is how little we talk about my university work. On his insistence, we leave it alone, because he has faith in my academic ability. Coming from anyone, that would be encouraging. Coming from a Cambridge postgraduate, cloaked in a lifetime of literary learning, it is an extraordinary vote of confidence – especially to a creative writer still learning, still questioning, and sometimes still unsure.

Our conversations cover whatever two men like to discuss: family; books we love; politics and culture; ideas that won’t quite settle; language as something alive and unruly. We talk about becoming – not academically, but as people. In every conversation, hierarchy is entirely absent. My ideas and opinions feel as intellectually valid as his, and equally welcome. This is why Alistair is not simply my mentor, but my friend. Friendship does not dilute mentorship; it deepens it. Honesty comes without performance and uncertainty without defence. In that shared space, insight arrives quietly and stays.

‘Not directing but walking alongside us’

The Longford Trust understands something fundamental about mentorship: that it is not about directing my path, or that of my peers, but about walking alongside us. To me, Alistair embodies this ethos. He reminds me, by example rather than instruction, that wisdom shouldn’t crowd a room. Alistair gives me space to breathe, to think – and, I hope, in time – to offer that same space to others. For his kindness, wisdom, and friendship, I am deeply grateful.

Would you like to be a mentor with us? Find out more and email mentors@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.

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.