Over the last few weeks, I have had the privilege of volunteering for Key4Life, a non-profit charity that runs prison rehabilitation programmes across the country. Recently, the charity launched a new programme at HMP Forest Bank in Salford, bringing its mission to give young offenders a brighter future to Manchester, and I feel so lucky to have been involved.
When I first got on board and found out how hands-on the role was going to be, I paused for a second. What would it be like to go into a category B prison, and work directly with men that have committed serious, often violent, crimes? I took a moment to re-evaluate. Was I nervous? Yes. Scared? A little.
The first day came and I met with the rest of the team, who I quickly realised were some of the most inspirational people I have ever met, many having deeply eye-opening life stories themselves. As we went through the stringent security (which made airports look trivial) and walked through the halls of the prison to the empty, cold gym where the programme would run, the apprehension was building.
But when the men began to filter in, all my nervousness vanished.
Not only were they warm, kind and respectful but they were eager to embrace a new beginning, and genuinely grateful that we were helping them – with no judgement – to grasp the opportunity for a second chance.
Over the last few weeks, the charity has completed equine, sport, and music therapy, connecting the men with their emotional needs to help them confront their past. We’ve worked on their career development, bringing in business mentors to guide them towards setting concrete goals for a better future.
During this, I have had the chance to sit and talk with many of them about their long-term goals and their prison experience, but also about their past, their childhood, their complex trauma. I have never met people prepared to speak so candidly about some of the most harrowing and difficult experiences I have ever heard. People thankful to have someone that listens to their voices in a society where many don’t.
Over 80% of men in prison suffered ‘childhood adversity’, such as child maltreatment or living in a home with domestic violence. In particular, 27% of male prisoners and 53% of female state that they have experienced emotional, physical or sexual abuse as a child. People from the country’s most deprived areas are ten times more likely to be in prison, and half of prisoners are battling drug addiction.
Despite this, not once did I hear anyone use their past to excuse their crime. Their goal was not to justify their actions but to help me understand that they aren’t inherently ‘bad people’. Many had grown up with very little money or guidance, and few role models – nobody to sway them away from a life of crime.
And now, they are trying to change. They told me how they sit in their cell, 22 hours of the day, thinking deeply about where things went wrong and how to fix it. How to battle the darkness that often defined their childhood. I would not be the person who tells these people that they don’t deserve another chance.
In the second week of the programme, I watched Donald Trump get re-elected as US president, despite several criminal charges and 27 accusations of sexual assault, beside men, some of whom have committed less severe offences. The irony of the situation became the epitome of injustice. I thought about how many of society’s elites – politicians, bankers, celebrities – have broken the law yet continue to enjoy lives of success and admiration.
My point is simply that too many of us are too quick to judge when we hear the word ‘prisoner’ – too quick to define these people by the crimes they have committed, instead of as humans. Humans who have been through things most of us can hardly imagine. Humans who have made mistakes but are serving their time and actively trying to change. Humans who are simply asking for a second chance in a world that barely gave them a first.
As I reflect on my initial apprehension, I realise how much of it stemmed from social conditioning. What seeds have been planted into my head, what stereotypes, that enlisted a sense of fear? While the elite try to make us enemies to each other, we must remember that the true enemy is a system that has allowed poverty, inequity, and abuse to sustain, shaping a world where equality of opportunity is slim to none.
I have now sat beside armed robbers, high profile drug dealers, gang members and violent offenders. And yet, my time with them has only deepened my understanding. At the end of our sessions, I leave the prison and I return to the warmth of my house. My middle-class life, my loving friends and family. I think to myself: who would I be if I hadn’t been lucky enough to have been born with privilege? I can claim that I still would have never committed crime. But truly, who knows?
Whilst we will all have different opinions on rehabilitation, and of course have all been affected differently by the repercussions of crime, Key4Life’s reoffending rate of 7% (compared to the national average of 64%) speaks for itself. Though it is unarguable that breaking the law must face punishment, there is clearly something inherently wrong not only within the justice system, but within society; something deeply flawed. Many of the men in prison will be released to next to nothing – no money, no family, no job.
But hopefully not those who have been through Key4Life. On the last day of the programme, I’ll never forget the absolute pride on the men’s faces as we handed them shirts and ties and welcomed some of the country’s top companies to interview them. The vulnerability that they have shown throughout – and the transformation that they have achieved – has been nothing short of inspirational.
People cannot change without the right resources and the right support, and ultimately, the experience has taught me how much the world could benefit from a little more understanding towards one another.
