Closing the Education Gap for Prisoners

Author: | 28 May 2023

Prison is often described as ‘a microcosm of society’ but that bears little resemblance to what goes on behind the walls, reports our current Longford Scholar Carolyn*, who is doing a PhD in women’s education provision in prisons. So much potential is going to waste because of the failure of prison education to provide the challenges that match the needs and hopes of prison learners.

During my induction at my first prison, like all new prisoners, I undertook initial education assessments. These are designed to provide a snapshot of ability. The prison teachers then looked at the floor while explaining to me that prison rules required me to undertake Level 2 English and Maths qualifications, despite me having been a teacher before my interaction with the criminal justice system, with a degree in English Literature, a PGCE and a Masters degree in education. My experience of education in custody was from the start characterized by frustration, inflexibility and short-sightedness.

No other accredited qualifications were available at the prison. Instead, I applied for an external course funded by the Prisoners’ Education Trust. I chose Copy Editing but, when I was transferred to a different prison, my course book was lost in the move. I was told I was unable to request new materials or take on a new course without completing the first.

Failing has no consequences

In 2021-22, Ofsted inspections were carried out in 22 prisons. Only one was deemed to be offering a decent standard of education. If similar results had been reported by the same organization for 22 schools outside the prison walls, urgent action would have been taken, new staff brought in, and ‘special measures’ imposed. In prison, such poor judgements appear to have no consequences at all.

The 2022 Ofsted report of my first prison found that the education department ‘requires improvement’ across all five of its categories. Whilst this two-word judgement captures much of my experience there, however, it does not reflect the handful of wonderful, supportive and inspiring teachers, committed to improving the attainment and prospects of their learners. If only they could be given autonomy to do their jobs, and offer basic training in any areas learners want to upskill in, real and positive change could be achieved.

The ups and downs

My second prison was at the other end of the M4.  In contrast to the first, it seemed to be an educational utopia with a much wider curriculum, including many qualifications on offer, all of which were consistently oversubscribed. I jumped at the opportunity to take the Level 2 Fitness Instructor course. And when I wasn’t in the gym, I could usually be found in the gardens doing a horticulture qualification.

When I was released from prison towards the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic, this learning became the foundation for a lockdown project to redesign part of my parents’ garden. Both of the courses I took in that second prison also arguably benefitted my mindfulness and wellbeing but still I was left wondering to what extend they had been successful and elevating in an educational capacity.

Employed as a Teaching Assistant at the second prison, my role was to support other prison learners with the Functional Skills courses (equivalent to GCSE level in English and maths). Those who made progress took pride in their achievements, but I also noticed that some made little-to-no progress. When I asked them about it, they openly explained that they failed the exams on purpose to ensure that they could stay on the course, in a warm and dry classroom, with ready access to biscuits. If they had passed it, they said, it would have automatically resulted in being timetabled to work in the gardens or kitchens.

Gender stereotyping

Like many others in prison, I experienced the disparity that exists in the regime there between the systemic dismantling of the self and the confiscation of agency on the one hand, and the expectation that I would better myself and magically emerge rehabilitated on the other. The futility and Kafka-esque routine of prison dampens motivation and aspiration. Yet prisons are teeming with untapped potential desperate to be harnessed.

As a minute 4% of the total prison population in the UK, women often feel sidelined in a prison system that is not built for them. The education arena is no different. As an education offer, hair and beauty courses cater for a tiny proportion of the female cohort, but the reality is that women in prison want to improve their circumstances as long as there is relevant opportunity. Less gender-stereotyped courses would be enthusiastically received. Accredited and practical courses such as catering and hospitality are, to be fair, becoming increasingly more available in prisons. This is excellent progress but there is still a long way to go to meet the needs of women in prison.

What success looks like

There is potential for prisons to reduce radically the cost of reoffending (standing at £18.1 billion per year, according to published Ministry of Justice figures in 2019) across the board. At the very least what is needed is a review of the current limited education offer for women and the introduction of some intelligent changes. The availability of education at an appropriate level is paramount, as is curriculum content that will support a woman to invest in a positive future on release. Access to improved digital learning tools, and also supervised access to the internet, would help to level the playing field, especially for those taking distance learning courses.

My experience of prison education was mixed but it has given me the blueprint for my research PhD – exploring women’s experiences of, and access to, education in prison. With the support of a Longford Scholarship and mentor, I am keen to begin exploring a gender-responsive and trauma-informed approach to education in women’s prisons. This would mean that women in prison have access to education opportunities to help them elevate their circumstances and live a positive future, free from crime. This could have a significant positive impact on intergenerational offending, and hence reducing offending rates for both men and women.

 (*Scholar’s name has been changed)

If you feel you could benefit from a Longford Scholarship, or know someone who could, contact Clare Lewis for details about how to apply.

 

 

Top Tips for employers and people with convictions: disclosure

Author: | 21 Jun 2022

It doesn’t matter whether you’ve stolen a penny sweet or killed someone…we won’t take people with convictions.

Imagine hearing those words when you’ve done your time, moved on and are making a success of life. These words from a recruitment agent to a scholar, who had followed the disclosure process by the book, hurt. Though, it doesn’t have to be this way.

Our new Longford employability scheme helps past and present scholars turning a degree into a career. The support includes guidance on telling an employer about a past conviction.

For Longford Blog, ex-scholar Neil reflects on what he’s learnt from his experiences….

First things first, some employers handled my criminal declaration well. They offered me the opportunity to sit in front of them and tell my story. Others, including the recruitment agency who treat theft of a penny sweet as seriously as taking a life, and a justice charity (in theory champions of rehabilitation) both managed my disclosure badly.

So poorly, it dented my already fragile confidence. Dented, but thankfully, I have ultimately used the anger and feelings of rejection to good effect, fuelling my search for more enlightened employers. Happily, before I chart some less good experiences, I write this now working in an academic role for a university.

However, before securing this role, I fell foul of confusion over disclosure on several occasions. The Rehabilitation of Offenders (1974), amended in 2014, sets out when and if people need to tell a prospective employer about a previous offence (‘unspent’) and when they don’t need to, in order to properly move on in their lives. In one case, a new employer misunderstood the records checks. This meant that having passed a basic level of disclosure and with my feet under the table in a new team, I ended up being put through a late more detailed enhanced check.

As I knew my previous conviction would show up under an enhanced check, I told my line manager, naively thinking, in this case, my honesty would indicate a integrity and be met with respect. Within half an hour of my declaration, however, I was escorted from the building and told I couldn’t continue in the position.

I sat outside the office in my car, shaking, riddled with anxiety and in shock. After telling my family, in the interests of balance, I did receive a phone call from the organisation who apologised, aware of the hypocrisy; an organisation committed to providing rehabilitative opportunities and second chances. Through my own investigations, I understood the employer had not acted illegally fighting my case.

I had to move forward, using my anger, hurt and resentment as a driver to finish my studies.

Sadly, I was no stranger to discrimination in the workplace. Ten years previously, I’d also fallen foul of another confused recruitment process by a charity where the employer admitted potentially illegal behaviour.

Long story short, this was another retrospective investigation into my past after they had overlooked the box which I’d ticked to say I had a conviction. The offer of the job continued but the nature of my role changed overnight.

I had to wait to be deemed ‘safe’ enough to be integrated with everyone else in my team.

Fortunately, I was mature enough to understand fears about potential reputational damage (it was a centre for children and vulnerable adults) and was continually informed by my line manager of discussions within senior management as to whether my treatment was fair, justified and proportionate. Ultimately, neither employer nor employee really knew how best to navigate the situation. Through open and transparent dialogue, we made the best of a difficult situation and I saw my employment contract through.

Stigma and shame

However, my treatment re-enforced a sense of stigma, shame and sadness that I still carry internally. Maybe it’s an overreaction on my part but I am interested in other people’s thoughts at this treatment by a charity whose mantra, at least in principle, emphasised fairness and social justice.

Although these experiences hurt deeply, I knew I had the strength to channel the discrimination positively.  I finished my studies, recently finding employment at a local university; a good news story to finish this Blog with.

Good news

After an interview in January 2022 and a subsequent telephone conversation, I was offered a research position at a university. Of course, my initial thoughts turned to disclosure. Once I realised my conviction would show, I immediately phoned my potential line manager to offer a declaration whilst requesting an opportunity to provide more information to help their decision-making.

True, my experiences suggested an honest approach could backfire, but I really wanted this job. But, if an employer would let a 20-year-old conviction dictate their thinking, then I wouldn’t want to work for them anyway.

Yet again, I had to recount a very difficult, painful time in my life to strangers. However, at each stage of the process my, now current, line manager showed sensitivity and support, explaining what would happen in clear terms.

In short, I felt supported and reassured at every step of the process.

This positive experience has, to my mind, key ingredients of how a good recruitment process for people with convictions works. For example, the employer outlines the exact level of records check at the outset so the potential candidate understands if their conviction/s will show. As importantly, the person can then decide whether it’s worth the effort and potential heartache of applying.

In my experience, if the conviction will be revealed, it’s best to get in front of the employer, to highlight any mitigation and positive, subsequent progress. As past and present Longford Scholars, we are much more than what’s written about us.

A face- to- face meeting allows time to gather thoughts, references and written statements which are useful if you’re nervous talking about your offence. Over time some convictions disappear but it’s useful to practice this conversation.

Looking back, I’m better equipped to deal with rejection, prejudice or discrimination. I’ve developed the resilience and emotional armour to deal more confidently with a knockback in a socially acceptable manner. I am continually improving my job prospects with a confident, strengths-based approach.