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.

 

 

 

Why George the Poet almost moved me to tears

Author: | 29 Nov 2021

November 2021 saw the return of the Longford Lecture on prison reform. Spoken word artist George the Poet headlined as guest speaker, declaring ‘the game is rigged’ and calling for prisons to become ‘development centres’.

He began, however, with a message for the music industry. Longford scholar Kyle was in the audience….  

Hello, my name is Kyle and I am a third year scholar, currently completing a Mathematics degree. To be honest, I see myself as a numbers guy more than a crafter of words but after being moved almost to tears by George the Poet at the 19th annual Longford lecture, I wanted to take a moment to put down my take on a memorable evening. And reflect on why his words meant so much to me.

This was my first Longford lecture. Amazing.

For a start, it was refreshing to see so many people who believe in change and rehabilitation gathering in Westminster from all different walks of life, many I suspect like my mum who came with me, may have been hearing George Mpanga (the Cambridge University- educated spoken word artist and social commentator famous for the Have you heard George’s podcast) for the first time.

The 500 or so people were gathering after a two year break due to Covid-19 with a common purpose of rehabilitation, with a shared belief in second chances. As someone who spent time inside myself, knowing the event was being aired into cells nationwide sent a powerful message, ‘you may be out of sight, but you are very much in mind.’

So what did I make of George on the night?

George, as I know from following him for many years, has passionate views about what happens in our prisons, about the urgent need for reform and rehabilitation. He’d hinted at what he was going to say in an in-depth interview in the Observer newspaper but nothing prepares you for the mesmerising in-person performance (which you can watch again here).

RAP’S NOT MUSIC!’ he declared.

He’d begun with a sentence which smoothly blended into a rap and then I realised: he’s rapping, this is a poem!

The first quote which struck me was,

‘Rap is a commodity, got to be the best thing adapted by poverty.

So if so many have seen a pay-out, why aren’t the communities guaranteed a way out?’ from his 2015 poem Rap’s Not Music.

When I talked to my mum afterwards I realised she, may be like others in the audience, may have been in the dark about what George was trying to get across.

It boils down to this. Often in RAP music artists talk about their upbringing, a common reality of drugs, struggles, violence, no support. Prison and trauma are part of their everyday reality and reflect the environment they grew up in.

I agree with what George says about commodity, he articulates a worrying distortion. RAP music is from a minority, typically born of poverty ‘on the streets’ but attracts the majority. These minority issues aren’t usually addressed or spoken about.  So, it’s powerful when people voice their situation and problems through the art of music.

But homegrown RAP music is BIG business, with the biggest market share of streamed music in the United Kingdom. It’s frustrating people are listening but not understanding the symptoms of poverty.

A quick side note here. I can relate to George and his background. He went to a London boys’ grammar school where he felt out of place, travelling for more than an hour each way to a leafy suburb from his home area, a poor part of London.  I remember being the only black person in my year 7 top set maths and science class at school, I’ve always been academic. It felt odd, no-one wanted to sit next to me.

May be it was because my friends were getting into trouble, some were bullies. Or may be due to race, upbringing or behaviour. I don’t know exactly. It’s hard to describe the feeling but I knew I was different from everyone in my class.

George knows what it feels like not to fit in. We need to stop people becoming lost in system.

Let’s remember the ‘The game is rigged‘ says George…’Crime and Imprisonment are predictable.’

  • 54% of young people in prison have been in care
  • 52% of children in police custody are from British Asian or Minority Ethnic backgrounds

Can you imagine the trauma of being in care? This trauma will often lead people to commit crimes. Whilst poorer communities struggle in self destruction, music companies are making big money, profiting from poverty.

Surely, there’s a moral duty on the music industry to make a change, to reinvest and address the community problems which sell their music.

This is such a central point I wanted to be sure my Mum had understood.

He also had important things to say about education and prisons. Back to statistics, he quoted the 34% of adult prisoners who read English below the level expected of an 11-year-old. Prisons need to change from punishment centres to development centres, a vision which most of us share.

Prison should be about second chances and changing people lives, for the better, for our communities and for a positive rehabilitation, breaking the cycle and reinvesting into our futures.

There are no choices without chances.’ That’s the bottom line.

Again, we need to stop people becoming lost in the system. I was that boy, like George the Poet. who didn’t quite fit in anywhere, not in school nor in my home area. I feel more that I do now. It has taken many years for me to feel accepted – a long journey with a lot of mistakes on the way.

Since my release from prison I’ve grabbed a lifeline, one where I’m pulling myself back into society, on the right side of the law.

I will be forever thankful and remember the likes of George the Poet for his inspiring words and work.

 

You can watch a recording of George the Poet’s speech by clicking on the link here

 

 

 

 

Rooting for success: ex tutor’s perspective

Author: | 1 Jul 2019

 

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be a tutor in prison? For Longford Blog, a former tutor (and now mentor) reflects….

 

 

Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better. Maya Angelou

What a powerful quote, it catches me every time. These inspiring words from the late, great thinker and civil rights activist Maya Angelou hung in my classroom at the men’s prison where I worked in education for seven years. A group of university degree students made the sign for me which gave it even more meaning.

Up until Christmas 2018, I was a Tutor in prison, firstly teaching Social Skills and in the last couple of years overseeing Distance Learning.

I really enjoyed my work, feeling privileged to have worked with hundreds of students during that time.  Although, as far as I was concerned, I was just doing my job, the men I worked with constantly told me I was different from most staff they had come across in the system… that it was obvious I believed in what I was doing. I’m not sure if they were right about others. I do know what I believe. Education has the power to rehabilitate and steer people away from crime into lawful, productive lives where they can reach their personal potential. Every day I saw that and every day that’s what I strove for.

It still makes me smile, proud to think of the many men who started their transformation by learning in our department.  The journey often began because they had to study a course as part of their sentence plan. Then some – many more than you might think but not all, being honest – just got the education bug. After that they couldn’t get enough, completing every course on offer.

On a mission for every individual to achieve their potential….

So how was my unshakeable core belief in the power of education and the human capacity to change reflected in how I did my job? First things first, I tried to be student focussed in my approach. In addition, I was always solution- focussed. A ‘problem’ was something to be tackled. Perhaps most importantly though, I held every man I worked with in positive regard. What this meant is that they rewarded with confidence and respect for me.

Overcoming barriers to education in prison were part and parcel of my working life. From downloading post-graduate students’ academic texts from their online OU accounts, to allowing new students who had arrived from other prisons to access the Distance Learning room promptly so they didn’t fall behind. I was always trying to find practical solutions within the regime’s rules. If anyone had been a fly on the wall, they would have seen me running around the corridors delivering learning materials, mail and email messages from tutors to students.  I’ve heard too many stories of Higher Education students in custody held back by lack of access to course materials and resources. It can be as basic as receiving materials late – due to the slow progress through the prison system to the student. It always struck me that students in prison are often doubly disadvantaged before they even start a course. If I could do my bit to make the basics of learning in prison better, then I would.

So yes, my mission was to ensure every student had the best possible chance of fulfilling their academic potential.

As well as the practical side of things, I saw my role as helping to keep students positively motivated – especially when they were locked in their cells during evenings and at weekends.  I am a firm believer that motivation in studying translates, without doubt, into people’s long-term positive change in behaviour. Judging by my leaving cards the men noticed, writing things like,

Many people walk in and out of our lives. Yet few make an imprint. You are one of those people to make an impression that motivates and encourages without judgement.’

Another reads,

I’ve realised I am actually quite smart.’

Another talked of me never stopping for breath to help encourage and support.

Going above and beyond didn’t feel like a choice.  It was particularly exciting when men started to look for education which they could access from outside prison to quench their thirst for knowledge.  That was a brilliant moment. I can’t describe the joy a teacher feels when you see a student grow, develop and change. I don’t just mean their behaviour, but their attitude and sometimes their whole world view.  It is nothing short of a privilege to witness them transforming into happier, healthier and more positive human beings than they first set foot in a prison education department.

I honestly believe and feel proud to say that my role as tutor – and my former prison tutor colleagues – was pivotal in the students’ ability not just to succeed in their educational quest, but also for their own longterm change and rehabilitation.

Bringing the outside in….

Looking back on my time as prison tutor possibly my proudest achievement is bringing educational groups from outside into prison, breaking down the ‘us and them’ divide that prison walls too often impose.  For instance, facilitating a Post-Graduate Reading Group in partnership with University of Westminster where incarcerated men study alongside university students. Welcoming mentors – including Longford mentors who offered valuable belief in and support of several scholars – was also a legacy I am proud of, knowing that our scholars really appreciated the time their mentors took to visit and write to them. Working with the Open University, Prison Reform Trust and the Prisoner’s Education Trust is also a major achievement. These external organisations facilitated student forums, focus groups and workshops to ensure people in the criminal justice system are involved in the decision-making process. I’m very proud of the contribution the Distance Learners at the prison where I worked has made to improve not only the educational experience but also the whole custody experience for their peers and prisoners nationwide.  Their educational journey has allowed the students to grow and develop so they can articulate well to decision makers about changes to improve the experience of imprisonment.

My hopes: remaining open to new ideas and change ….

Although, just at the moment I am not directly involved in the education and rehabilitation of prisoners, I found my seven years teaching in the education department the most rewarding work I have ever done.  I was always busy, happy to support the men to make more positive choices and decisions.  I’m privileged to have been part of my learners’ journey through a spiritually oppressive system. I always rooted for them to succeed, doing my bit to help them carve out a brighter, more fulfilling present and future. I hope that my encouragement and support to the men that passed through our class, has enabled them to achieve, remain open to new ideas and change, continue learning, and achieve more. I plan to become a Longford Trust mentor and hope to support another student in a secure environment later this year.

I will forever hold Maya Angelou’s inspiration dear, because they know better, they do better and will continue to do so.