2013-03-27
A Room full
of Gentlemen
8.25 I’m
trying it out to see how easy it is to get here in time for an 8.30 start. I’m a bit too early as I was booked for 9.30
and it turns out Vikki is busy helping Sandy with oral testing so I have to
hang around for a while in the waiting room in the gatehouse. The governor asks me if somebody knows I am
waiting. I have to show my passport and
put all valuables, mobile phone and my car key in a locker. Somebody with prison keys has to escort me so
Shauna, the education administrator, comes to get me and takes me to the
education wing. In the staff room, I
meet the Art teacher and have a cup of tea to warm up.
Vikki comes
and we have a chat about my qualifications and experience and what I would like
to do as a volunteer. I say that I would
like to help out with reading and writing.
She takes
me to Sandy’s bright, warm, spacious classroom and I meet some of her students. Most of them are black, non native English
speakers. Far from being intimidating, they
are the most motivated, charming and polite group of students I’ve ever had the pleasure to be in a classroom with. Gentlemen, the lot of them.
Sandy calls
them Mr. So and so and they all call her by her first name. It’s good practice to keep your surname out
of it and never tell them where you live
.
I listen to
one of the men read and then join in with the class when Sandy teaches them
some how to spell words they may have to use in their writing exam on Monday. She has a relaxed, chatty manner and a good
relationship with her students, even teasing them gently at times. They’re very respectful with her and the
whole class has a supportive atmosphere.
The lad whose reading I listened to rushes to give me a tissue from his
pocket when I have a coughing fit. Sandy
says her Wednesday class is very peaceful and she comes out feeling calm.
“The Verne isn’t a real prison,” one of them
says. “The Scrubs is a real prison. You know you’re in prison when you’re in The
Scrubs.” One man says he liked The Scrubs better because you
knew where you were in there. He doesn’t
like all these corridors in The Verne.
The Verne is not an open prison but the men
take classes and many of them work. Some
of them work outside the prison in The Jailhouse Cafe and in charity
shops. One man tells me he packs tea
bags and cereal into boxes which go to other prisons.
“Do you
have any choice about what work you do?”
“When you
first come in, they give you a list of jobs and you can put down which ones you
want to do.”
"This man is the best in the class. I can't teach him anything."
She
reads out the letter he has written asking a friend to buy a present for
somebody in his family. It is faultless. He will sail through the tests.
She is very worried about these tests, which
have just been brought in. They have to
do speaking and listening tests, reading tests and writing test every seven
weeks and in some cases they can’t even read when they start in her
class. From not reading to taking these
tests is a huge step but she can’t bear the thought of them failing.
One man, (let’s
pretend his name is Bruce), helps the other students with their work. Sandy says he is a great example of what
prison education can do, as he is now well educated, despite having had no qualifications
when he left school – although he says he was always good with spoken language.
Bruce says he was moved around so much as a
boy, he could never settle down in any school and also says he was a “scumbag” who
deserved every bit of his sentence. He’s been inside
for ten years and has grey hair which may be premature.
“When I
went into prison I thought at least I could get some education.”
He talks
about giving something back by helping some of the others learn.
There’s a
programme in the prison called “Toe to Toe” where good readers can be peer
tutors for those needing to learn. The
tutors wear a tee shirt with a Toe to Toe logo so they can be identified .
“I love it
when they shut my cell door,” This is Bruce again. “I read books do some of my art and I know
nobody will disturb me.”
He tells me that his fiancée is a teacher,
but she’s thinking of giving it up, because of the pressure she feels
under.
“You wouldn’t think he was a murderer, would
you?” Sandy says when we leave
the class room. “I never ask them what they’re in for, but most of the lifers
are in for murder.”
I suppose
you wouldn’t get life for much less.
“I learn
more from them than they learn from me,” Sandy says and not about murdering,
presumably.
Later, Vikki
and I have a debriefing session. She tells
me that when I have my security briefing they will try to talk me out of
coming. They’ll ask you what you would
do if you were taken hostage.
“You would
comply with what they say and keep yourself safe.”
I ask her
what would happen if a dangerous situation developed in the classroom.
“Every
classroom has a panic button that you can press if you need help. In the three years I’ve been here it’s gone
off three times – twice by mistake.”
The keys I
will carry on my belt when I am cleared by security have to be put down a
chute when I go home. If the keys leave the prison, every lock will
have to be changed. Luckily an alarm
goes off if you forget to give them in but soon it will just become automatic.
My friend Charlotte
texts me when I get out.
“Are you
free to talk?”
“I am
now. I just got out of prison.”
I don’t
often get a chance to say that.
