Years of incarceration have made me a successful failure. To the world
out there I am a neatly packaged convicted felon whose views and
observations are irrelevant but I will offer them to you anyway – just
for the hell of it!
Prisons are still society's garbage can. Places where unwanted rubbish
is dumped. Out of sight. Out of mind. They are places where Ministerial
portfolios are gauged by the amount of adverse publicity generated and
responsibility is delegated to somebody with a shotgun and a roll of razor
wire who has a mandate to ensure the streets are not sullied by any
unwanted presence of a felon before he has done his time. Rehabilitation
has become a four-letter word that is alien to a system that relies on
revenge and retribution in answer to the public's perceived notion of what
they want the incarceration process to accomplish.
It is a curious sight to witness the "law and order" debate
raging out there with such a wide cross-section of the community all eager
to offer views as to how men like me should do time. Journalists.
Politicians. Lawyers. Judges. Doctors. Academics. Psychologists. Social
workers. Prison administrators. It is ironic that the only person not
allowed to contribute to that debate is the prisoner him/herself.
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Emotive argument flies back and forth; "make 'em do every
day", "bring back the death penalty", "hang 'em",
"maggots", bleeding hearts", and the debate bubbles along
with the same well-worn arguments that have no consideration for future
generations who may suffer the consequences of today's draconian proposals
that continue to dehumanise, desensitise and make angry men angrier.
Twenty years ago a rebellious and angry young man wrote an article that
described how incarceration had become Australia's most effective
educational system. I was that angry young man.
Prison, the end of the line, had become the university of crime. It was
1979. The International Year of The Child. I was serving an 18-year prison
sentence for armed robbery inside the State Penitentiary at Parramatta,
NSW, when those observations were made in Brown & Zdenkowsky's The
Prison Struggle:
"Prison is the end of the road. An overcrowded garbage can that
society carefully chooses to ignore. For most of us behind these walls,
the road to prison has been a steady procession of Boy's Homes and
Reformatories. To some, we are crime statistics. To others, we are a
combination of animals, brutes, deviates, psychopaths, products of broken
homes, or just plain psychologically unbalanced individuals. Despite
whichever tag we are labelled with, the undeniable fact remains - we are
all prisoners behind these walls but the majority of us are experts too.
We know the juvenile/justice system intimately. We know it from the gut
level of experience. And prison is a direct extension of the
juvenile/justice system.
During the past nine years in prison there is one thing that has
occurred with monotonous regularity: the guys I knew at Mt Penang and
Albion Street and Yasmar (NSW Juvenile Reformatories during the 60s and
70s) were in those places for truancy, running away from home, stealing
and in some cases house-breaking. Today I see those same guys I knew 14
and 15 years ago walking the yard. Now they are doing time for murder,
rape, armed robbery and kidnapping. Recently I walked the yard with a guy
I knew from Yasmar in 1964. He was in there for stealing a bicycle but
today he is doing a 14 year sentence for armed robbery. Some may look at
this example in cynical vein and remark that it is a big step from
stealing bicycles to robbing banks. It isn't a big step at all. It is a
progressive extension of the juvenile/justice system ...
The juvenile/justice system is the most efficient education system
in the State. It is a timeless machine that sucks children in at one end
with the seal of judicial responsibility and spews them out again on their
18th birthdays to become endless flotsam and jetsam that continually float
through the NSW penal system during their adult life.
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Having been taught to steal and commit petty crime at Kindergarten
(Mittagong) and taught the values of the con, lie and cheating at Primary
School (Daruk), and then the High School education at Mt Penang teaches
them skills to make an impression in the life of crime. Tamworth and Hay
Reformatories blunt their sensitivities with brutality. Their education
secures jobs for people who would be otherwise unemployed – magistrates,
judges, police and prison guards."
Nearly three decades later and maximum-security prisons are still the
universities of crime.
Incentives for prisoners to participate in conventional education and
rehabilitation programs during the 90s were forfeited to the punishment
and retribution concept of the "get tough" purges of politicians
and prison administrators. Criminality has again become the preferred
option on the yard and is learned at a faster rate than numeracy or
literacy inside a system that has replaced brick walls and gun towers with
razor wire, sophisticated technology and privatisation.
Budgetary constraints dictate that money spent on prisons is earmarked
for security. The physical, monetary and psychological barriers placed
upon educational pursuits inside maximum security prisons are never-ending
and Trevor Doherty illustrated some of those complex issues in a paper he
presented to The International Forum on Education in Penal Systems in
Adelaide during April, 1998:
"Education within a prison is viewed by authorities as a
privilege and is consequently heavily policed. Although viewed favourably
by the parole board, it is far from being encouraged by prison staff. The
adamant opposition toward educational pursuits displayed by prison staff
invariably brings about a 'play the game mentality' to which a large
proportion of correctional educators succumb. Consequently, to safeguard
their own careers, they often wear two hats."
Knowledge is power but the learning curves can be difficult to navigate
inside maximum-security prisons. They remain seething cauldrons of anger,
frustration and discontent that rest on an underlying current of tension
and raw violence which can explode without warning at any time.
There is no privacy within a prison. Random cell searches, strip
searches, body searches (squat and cough) and lock-downs are an integral
part of prison life. All activities within a prison are geared to the
security restrictions enforced within the prison and there is no control
whatsoever as to what prison authorities may dictate as being policy on
any given day.
A prisoner has no control over his own life. Helplessness and
vulnerability have become prerequisites of the incarceration process that
disempowers and totally crushes any initiative or individuality. Everyday
prison life becomes one continuing battle to retain a dignified sense of
balance between institutionalisation and subservience.
The learning experience is no weight to carry but there are two types
of educational systems inside a maximum-security prison - the conventional
and the unconventional. For some prisoners it is easier and less demanding
to simply assimilate into a sub-culture where successful failures carry a
mark of respect on the yard that is equivalent to a BA or a Phd in the
outside world.
This concept was challenged by Senator John Tierney, Chair of the
Senate Employment, Education and Training References Committee, when he
released a Report on 26 April, 1996, that recommended wide-sweeping
reforms to conventional education programs inside Australian prisons.
The Report culminated a nation-wide series of public hearings and
visits to correctional facilities throughout Australia and drew this
observation from Senator Tierney:
"Currently prisoners who leave prison with useful skills and a
positive outlook invariably lack the support to establish themselves with
a job or further education in the community. As a result, a significant
proportion re-offend and end up back in prison. This is an outrageous
waste of skills, time and money.
"If we can reduce the levels of recidivism we can save millions
of taxpayer dollars, to say nothing of the social gains when ex-offenders
can put their lives back together.
"If we are serious about rehabilitation - and let's face it,
about 99% of prisoners will be returning to the community - we need to
make sure what happens in prison with education and training is geared to
the best possible outcomes for prisoners, because that's what will be in
the best interests of society at large."
Those noble sentiments expressed by Senator Tierney were not validated
on the prison exercise yard. The abandonment of prison as a last resort
was replaced with the "get tough on crime" approach that
politicians of both persuasions use in vote-grabbing exercises to woo the
electorate.
Zero-tolerance incarceration is the buzzword of prisonocrats who
oversee the new-age prison system - a warehousing process where sensory
deprivation labours under the masquerade of security and containment.
Fresh air and sunlight have become a privilege and not a right.
Retribution replaces rehabilitation. And education is at the bottom of the
priority list. As the incarceration process moves into the 21st century
one can only speculate what the process will produce for future
generations.
That speculation was the focus of a respected US Judge, His Honour
Judge Dennis Challeen, when he made this critical and candid observation
of the incarceration process as I know it:
"We want them to have self worth so we destroy their self
worth.
We want them to be responsible so we take away all responsibilities.
We want them to be part of our community so we isolate them from our
community.
We want them to be positive and constructive so we degrade them and make
them useless.
We want them to be non-violent so we put them where there is violence all
around them.
We want them to be kind and loving people so we subject them to hatred and
cruelty.
We want them to quit being the tough guy so we put them where the tough
guy is respected.
We want them to quit hanging around with losers, so we put all the losers
under one roof.
We want them to quit exploiting us so we put them where they exploit each
other.
We want them to take control of their own lives, own their own problems
and quit being parasites -- so we make them totally dependent on us."
(Quoted in the New Zealand Journal Stimulus in August 1994).
How many successful failures will the prison system continue to
produce? Is this what the community really wants?