To Mark Branagan of the Daily Fail,
I’m furious, more than that, I’m tired.
Tired of your publications constant and relentless perpetuation
of what you believe the criminal justice system is, what purpose it serves and imposing,
supposing, your own vigilante mob mentality by way of manipulation of the
public perception and creating an air of fear, disdain, resentment and
hostility towards the prison population and I’m here to tell you – it has to
stop.
In a world of free press, social media and human rights –
let me tell why I’m angry.
How dare you film a woman without her consent like some sort
of animal in a zoo for your grotesque grandstanding of morality.
How dare you stalk a woman down a country road and having
walked that road myself every single day for months, in the pouring rain and
the blazing sun, donning my hi visibility bib to ensure I am seen, I am
criminal, I am a rogue amongst the masses, let me draw your attention to a few
things.
-
The bibs are for our safety; they are not to forwarn
the innocent and unsuspecting public that the criminals are out on tour and
roaming the streets like the hoodlams you say we are. The bibs are for the
prison officers to take note of the fact we are coming and going, day in, day out,
much like they do, through the gates, twice a day.
-
The bibs are to ensure that whilst walking the
two miles each way to the main road, we are safe from oncoming traffic and
predatory reporters like you, hiding in bushes, taking unsolicited photos and
invading our privacy, on the assumption that removal of liberty, means removal
of our rights – you may want to brush up on the law, heaven forbid you
yourself step outside of it and land at one of the UK’s
cushiest prisons!
The photo you have taken on the lady returning to Askham is
particularly interesting, as you’ve failed to note the most important part of
that process – she has pressed the gate buzzer, much like I did and said, much
like I did
“Barker-Mills, returning from work,” – the gate opens and
you return to the prison reception, to deposit your already searched on the way
out and re-searched on the way in belongings, which are kept in lock boxes and
do not enter the prison estate, you then too are searched and you return
through the reception door back into the prison estate, bib and all.
Return.
Askham Grange is not the UK’s cushiest prison, but it may
well be the UK’s most successful one if we measure rehabilitation, engagement
and absconding rates of Category D prisons.
The gate you have photographed and made reference to, OPENS,
at will, from the inside. Not to terrify the gently folk and delicate disposition
of Daily Mail readers who fear the unknown and prefer to live in ignorance and propaganda
lead hand holding opinion formation BUT, the women of Askham grange leave the
prison on one premise – they have earned the right, they have earned the trust,
they have worked hard to show reliability, decency and as such, having gone
through risk assessments, ROTL boards, meetings with governors and offender
managers, prospective employers, then and only then, may we leave. And leave we
do.
Like workers bees’. Just like you.
The gate opens to let us out and we, the criminals must buzz
and ask permissions to be let back in, and we do.
When I landed in Askham Grange, I started my prison job immediately,
as all prisoners are put to work in the estate to ensure it’s maintenance,
functionality and to embed that sense of routine and a days work – appropriate,
proportionate and much of what you readership tend to overlook.
We don’t sit around in our cells playing playstation,
smoking, taking drugs, committing acts of violence – and let it be said, I
refer to Category D and my experience.
We are up at 6:30, we attend role checks several times a day
in and around our work schedules, or education attendance.
Having worked hard in the prison bakery, (I know, the irony)
– I was offered the opportunity to attend an interview for Max Spielman.
I wore the suit I wore to my sentencing hearing, I polished
my leather brogues and I rocked up to the education suite, just as I would in
my real life.
I had the same anxiety, the same hesitations, amplified by
the fact, I knew, I was a prisoner.
I got the job.
My first time outside of the jail, despite having only been
incarcerated a short time, I couldn’t breathe for the fear of it. The road from
Askham Village felt never ending and daunting – even more so I imagine now the
ladies of Askham know the vultures lurk in the bushes. You should be ashamed.
(And here I give credit to the prison establishment, my offender manager saw and felt my anxiety and to ensure I was supported effectively and my triggers were reduced, she arranged for a prison officer to take me to the max Spielmann store ahead of my first day. I sat in the back of a regular car, with a plain clothes prison officer who proceeded to explain the route, where to go, where was the best place to get a sandwich at lunch - reiterating the rules and agreements as he should. We drove to Leeds and back, ate a sandwich and I returned to the prison feeling more ready for my first day at work. The prison did that. They saw my feeling, my behaviour and they supported it, mitigated it, and empowered me to take that first step)
Prison is punishment. That is it’s purpose. There is no
escaping it. We can mask it in recovery and rehabilitation but we send women to
prison to teach them the consequences of actions and the breaking of law – the women
who find themselves in Askham Grange have earned the right to do so. Prisons
are built on a system of good behaviour and engagement.
Privileges are what keeps everything in check – you work
hard, you attend your therapy sessions, you take your medication, you put the
work in. You go to education, you take your exams, you engage. You show
willing, you show change, you show potential and that is met with equality,
opportunity and it’s placed entirely in your remit.
If you can take a job, in the community, move from A to B on
a daily basis – and yes, even eat and ice cream on a hot day like the rest of
the world, perform a long days work, return “home” and repeat that routine, you
are to all intents and purposes, ready to return to mainstream society – as an
equal. Not as a pariah.
You, with your grotesque and poorly written piece of fear
mongering and hate fuelling drivel, are creating a harsher world for us to come
home to.
Where people see monsters, where there are just people. Where many fear the unknown but choose not to learn.
Where it’s not walk a mile in my shoes, it’s you don’t even
deserve the s*** on my shoe.
When did we become so cruel?
As human beings, complex in our individuality, we all
deserve equal opportunity, to learn, to grow, to change and to evolve. That is
all the women of Askham are doing, just as I do now.
I suppose that fills you with fear and dread, a criminal,
wandering the streets unknown to you, working and earning, and living, and it’s
true, I even enjoy an ice cream on a hot day on my way home from work.
These women work harder than anyone I know, because what you’ve
failed to notice is, despite their incarceration which is traumatic and
isolating, and debilitating, despite the overcoming demons, and dread and trauma
and addiction and all of the things that lead us to live behind bars, we, with
all of that, the weight of the world on our shoulders, and yours, get up, and
go to work. Just like you.
So tell me, where is the shame in that?
No shame, just pride, absolute pride. Well done that woman.
Well done that prison. Well done that employer.
More opportunity. More equality and less of your “journalism,”
