Hope or Miracles
At this time of year we often look back. In doing so, I came across an article I'd written some years back when I was new to Prison Education. It gave me hope - I hope it does the same for you.
I’d worked at my local category B male prison for some years, encouraging prisoners into education. Every day was different. Each story different. But I was always the same – or I tried to be. It was in me to be a listener. I tried to be supportive and encouraging. I was often the first friendly individual these prisoners had encountered since they had entered the establishment – only a few days to a week before.
One of my colleagues used to joke “you can turn anyone around” … what he meant was that he saw me work miracles on hardened, demonstrative, aggressive individuals – and even those apparently ‘catatonic’ by the shock of incarceration.
I saw many incidents that gave me hope. Surprisingly, the department allowed me to work with a prison mentor who was able to offer his personal insights on prison life, and fill in my own gaps in the day to day practical experience of life on the inside.
My mentor, Paul, took it on himself to be my protector, rising regularly from his seat to defend me, if he thought the situation needed his brute force and male-on-male edge. Rather than encounter daily noise, stress and resistance, Paul helped us create an atmosphere of respect, explanation, equality and assistance.
We both wanted to help and to give each of the guys before us the opportunity to make the best choices available to them there, at that moment. Because as I saw it, many were there because they hadn’t been shown how to make choices – far less ones that served them.
Just as Paul had demonstrated - I soon learnt that the majority of the guys felt protective to their teachers. In the same way that they fiercely guarded their ‘missus’ from verbal or physical attack, so they would defend us.
I came to relish the daily challenge of the unknown.
- Who would I encounter?
- what would I learn?
- How could I help?
In truth, I rarely knew if I had made any difference as such acknowledgements were rare. But occasionally one or two moments registered when one soul touched another.
John (I’ll call him that) had been in at least once before whilst I worked there so we recognised each other when he walked in the room. After the introductory talk, the prisoners were separated into various groups to complete assessments or have 1:1’s with either myself or Paul.
I really wanted to have a conversation with John to find out what he had been up to. I was disappointed to see him in front of me again, and keen to discover what had been happening to him whilst on the outside.
The moment soon arose and I knew I would only have about 15 minutes with him before he would be escorted back to his wing – interaction over.
John was hesitant this time round in speaking to me. He seemed embarrassed to make eye contact. His head hung low as he shared the petty crime that had brought him before the local magistrates for a 2nd time.
Rather than the crime itself, we both appeared to reflect on the crime of his not doing himself justice. I asked him about his young son and his eyes became moist as he agreed he had not shown himself to be a good role model. He and his partner were estranged, and he felt helpless in finding work, to enable him to provide for his family.
I began to speak of self worth. Of valuing ourselves.
He asked me “Why do you work here? You could do so much more!”
After a pause, looking him squarely in the eye I replied clearly
“You know John, our job does not define us. It is ‘who’ we are, rather than ‘what’ we do that defines us. As the Indian Dreamer goes “ tell me not what you did, but what mark you made”… Your job, whatever it may be is only part of your story”.
He nodded and spoke of his young (blond and blue-eyed) 5 year old, saying: “I want him to be proud of me. And I feel I can be proud of myself if I don’t judge myself”.
“There’s enough other people judging you right now John and adding in your own disappointment won’t help you see a life beyond here”… I replied .
We talked some more, but I felt he’d shared what he wanted to, and before he left he turned to me and said:
“ You know Miss, you make a difference in here. It may just be a smile and a kindly voice, but you also add in time to listen. And I know you’ve just listened to me. I thank you for that.”
We made the quick suggestion that he come to Education classes, but I heard later that we was shipped out – transferred to another Prison.
I often think back to ‘Paul’ and thank him for what he taught me.
That often we don’t have to offer much to make a difference.
Often we can reach someone with the smallest thing, and yet we may never know what it means.
Sometimes, we can touch another with both a smile and a word.
But if we don’t know, and we can’t be sure, isn’t it right that we still put it out there, just in case we happen to make someone’s day?