In the Open: Farewell at last

In a regular column, Nick London describes life in open conditions

For nearly two years I’ve reported in this column on my time going through this particular cat-D prison. I’d use the term ‘rollercoaster ride’ but I can’t stand clichés. Besides, it would fail to describe the long, slow, mildly comical farce that played out in a setting that is really rather beautiful. Likewise, it wouldn’t capture the stress of repeatedly being let down by a department that is short-staffed, overworked and under-organised. A rollercoaster certainly couldn’t portray the horror of being unceremoniously lobbed into a cat-B prison whilst awaiting a drug test result that was clearly the product of my prescribed meds. It would be more accurate to say that my time here has been like living inside a TV, whilst someone erratically switches between Last of the Summer Wine, Tales of the Unexpected and Benny Hill. After all the drama, it feels odd to say I got my parole. Yet got it I did.

As I will soon be moving on, this will be my last In the Open. My target audience has always been long-termers and lifers. My hope was that they could follow the things I got right whilst avoiding the mistakes I made. However, as we are all unique, your journey through this system will inevitably differ from mine. I have tried to make the themes as universal as possible, but my experiences may not be typical – not least because I have the privilege of this soapbox.

So, for this final column I have asked Alan, our lifer rep, and Miss Gluth, our lifer CM (Custodial Manager), to impart some wisdom from their unique vantage points.

There are some quality human beings in prison, who are much more than the worst thing they ever did. 

On talking to Alan, it soon became clear that he and I have gone through much of the same emotional conflict. He tells me that others who seek his wise counsel report the same thing. One word stands out above the rest: frustration. Agonising, maddening, hair de-rooting frustration, primarily at the amount of time it takes to be cleared for Release On Temporary Licence (ROTL). We don’t know exactly, but we make an educated guess at it being seven months as an average prior to going out on ROTL. As a long-term/high risk case, you should prepare yourselves for this. Another common theme is the difficulty of managing the expectations of friends and loved ones. They’ve gone through these huge sentences with us: the long journeys; the agony of separation; the waiting, and the waiting, and the waiting. Then comes the unbridled joy at you receiving your cat-D. The expectation of being back by their side, or in their arms, only to discover the waiting isn’t yet over.

Strategies for coping? Well, like me, Alan, has been through a Therapeutic Community (TC). He has gained the emotional bandwidth to cope. If you are a long-termer with sufficient time left, we both implore you to apply for TC. Good, solid emotional management is the key to success here. As it is for what comes afterwards.

To be forewarned is to be forearmed. As such, Alan and I suggest you ready yourselves for a perceived lack of momentum, some dismal communication, and many inconsistencies.

Miss Gluth’s advice is to lean into the support structures. Build your own by identifying ‘your people’. If you want to succeed, find others who are just as keen to do so. If you want to fail, make a beeline for the guy with the spliff and an iPhone. Don’t take your eyes off the significant prize.

Miss Gluth and Alan are doing their best to improve the user experience, specifically for indeterminately sentenced prisoners. They can’t fix this broken system, but they can help you navigate it. I, for one, have been grateful for their assistance on more than one occasion.

There are good things here which must be recognised. The Through the Gates department is excellent. They can help with anything from debt issues to driving licences. The resettlement department has never let me down. Ever. They are accessible and highly capable. I can’t thank them enough.

I have received great support and encouragement from many staff members here. They know who they are and they have my profound gratitude. Prison Offender Managers are key to so many things here. You’ll hear many opinions about POMs, but ignore them and make your own mind up based on experience. More often than not it’s the process at fault, not the person. The most important thing was that my POM understood the work I did in therapy. It has not been an easy road, but we always had a good working relationship. 

Which leaves me to thank Inside Time for this platform, my work colleagues, and my wonderful people outside. Finally, I wish to thank the huge cast of prisoners whose support and care over the years has been genuinely touching. It proves what I have long suspected: amongst the arsehats and pretenders, the Bentley-driving millionaires who can’t afford a pack of vapes, there are some quality human beings in prison, who are much more than the worst thing they ever did. 

And now onwards. There are challenges ahead, and a life waiting to be lived. I look forward to telling you all about it…