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For people with criminal records
For people with criminal records

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Probation, ‘borderline’ offenders and the need for boundaries

One person in 20 is currently living with a personality disorder and a large proportion of these are women. Symptoms vary but in Stacey’s case she struggled with her emotions and relationships with others. She feels strongly that probation officers need more training to enable them to understand the difficulties of working with people with personality disorders.

The first meeting with my probation officer started off badly. She had read my case notes which said I was ‘high risk’ and made it clear she had reservations about supervising me. I had Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and was known to struggle to manage my emotions. The Community Mental Health Team (CMHT) had refused to help me saying first that there was no treatment for BPD and then, after my arrest, that I was obviously in crisis and so unable to engage, so I was used to knock backs.

Nevertheless, I was a little disappointed with her attitude and the fact that she had pre-judged me. I had never had a probation officer before and didn’t know what to expect. I was 55 years old and this was my first time in prison. I was looking forward to going home to my partner and I was sure that I would not be returning to prison.

After my release I saw my probation officer twice a week. I attended all my appointments and didn’t offend further, so after a couple of months they were cut down to one a week. I wasn’t getting any help from the CMHT but it didn’t seem to matter because I could talk to my probation officer. She’d softened towards me since our initial meeting and I looked forward to seeing her each week.

We spoke about issues I was having but equally, we discussed her and her personal life.

“Enough about you, did I tell you about what I did last weekend?” she’d say.”

I liked talking to her. She was funny, intelligent and interesting. She seemed to care about me. We discussed my issues with attachment, a common symptom of BPO, and she seemed to understand what a serious problem it was for me. The feelings can become so intense that some people become obsessed and even resort to stalking. I hadn’t, but I understood how easy it could be to reach that stage.

We talked about anything and everything, and we laughed, a lot. I was becoming attached to her, and she knew it. She asked if I wanted a different officer; I declined. The best way of curtailing this type of attachment is to have no contact with the subject. However, the one with the attachment will not break the contact because they yearn for that person’s attention.

Half way through my probation period I was told by a senior officer that I would now only need to see my officer every two weeks. I had been doing well and the concerns of supervising me, exhibited at the beginning, seemed to have lessened. This should have been good news. It wasn’t; I was devastated. I started to think of the time when I wouldn’t be able to see her, and I couldn’t bear it. I thought of the railway track and how much I wanted to end my life. I don’t know how I managed the drive home. I felt numb, yet desperate.

Once home, I couldn’t settle. I sent an email to the probation officer, complaining about never getting any help from CMHT. She phoned me, but I didn’t answer. I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk because I was crying so much. She asked the police to carry out a safe and well check, but they refused. Over the weekend, I sent more emails to my probation officer, threatening anyone she might send to my door. I wasn’t serious but I needed to do or say something extreme so that I could calm down. On the Monday I was arrested and charged with malicious communication. I pleaded guilty. The police said they had a statement from my officer to say she was upset at receiving the emails. The magistrate was sympathetic to my feelings but said he couldn’t allow anyone to send vitriolic comments to probation staff. He sentenced me to 6 weeks in prison.

While in the cell awaiting transport, my probation officer came to see me. She told me that her manager had recalled me to prison to serve the rest of my initial sentence, another 6 months. She also said she had not made a statement and was neither angry or upset at my emails. She thought the whole saga was ‘sad’. Despite the fact that I would have to serve another 6 months in prison, I was happy that she wasn’t angry with me.

After my release, despite the emails, and perhaps proving that she had not been upset the same probation officer continued to supervise me for the seven months extended probation I had been given. I was still attached to her and grateful that I would be seeing her every week. Our relationship went back to the way it was before my arrest and one day, she became emotional and apologised for what had happened. Looking back, I don’t know if she had genuinely wanted to help me or had encouraged my attachment. She game me a lot of information about herself but when I then tried to probe further, she said it was inappropriate. Either way, the thought of not seeing her was more than I could bear. I said it was OK, I didn’t blame her, and it was true. How could I blame her for being kind?

I do question however, why probation officers (and possibly police and prison officers) do not have the kind of awareness training that warns them about attachments so that they can set boundaries. Individuals with BPD can be extremely vulnerable and prone to overplay the smallest act of kindness shown to them. I was told that a forensic psychologist was available to give advice to officers at my probation office. Clearly the advice did not cover those with severe attachment issues.

Since leaving prison, I have been working to raise awareness of BPD and associated attachment issues. One in ten people with BPD end their own lives; I was very nearly part of that statistic.

By Stacey  (name changed to protect identity)

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  • Comment – Let us know your thoughts on this post by commenting below.
  • Discuss this issue – There are some interesting discussions on our online forum.

No challenge, no change – from drug dealer to university student

Devon was involved in criminality for a long time, recruiting children to deliver drugs for him and teaching them how to avoid arrest. Following a spell in prison, he’s put his previous life behind him and is learning how to gain respect from education.

From a very early age I was ‘involved’ in crime. I lived with my family in South London where it was common practice for friends and family to ‘duck and dive’ to survive or make a bit of extra money.

Aged 15 my father died and what little discipline I had vanished and I became more unruly and out of control. I became heavily involved in the drug scene (distributing, not taking) and left school as soon as I could; earning money was more important to me than an education.

Before long I was using local kids to ferry cannabis, cocaine and other class A drugs, knowing they would be less likely to be stopped by the police. I’d use apps and video games to recruit kids to my gang; it was easy – too easy.

Offering struggling kids money bought me respect not just from them but from their parents as well.

By 2010 I was living the life of a gangster although I’d convinced myself that I was actually a businessman. I became too cocky and in May 2010 I was arrested. The police investigation took over a year but in 2010 I was convicted and sentenced to prison.

I started my sentence full of attitude and carried on like that for the first couple of years. But, following a prison visit from my mum something clicked. I could see how disappointed she was in me and how she needed me at home. I knew that if I continued to flout the rules I’d never get out.

So I set about changing. I spent time in both the gym and the classroom and learnt to love learning. I was lucky to have a truly inspirational teacher and I realised that being educated could give you just as much power and respect as being a dealer. I started to believe in myself and with my teachers support I studied for three GCSE’s and took a personal training qualification.

I’ve been out of prison for a year now. I’ve moved away from South London, away from the friends and life I once had and it’s taken me a while to settle into a new area and a life away from prison. I managed to find myself a job in a gym where I run regular classes as well as doing 1-to-1 personal training. I’m enjoying earning an honest income and doing the normal things that other people take for granted.

I’m now ready to take the next step and I’ve just been accepted to study economics and marketing at university.

I’m a bit worried about studying, concerned about being amongst all the ‘clever kids’ but as my mum keeps telling me:

“You’ve got as much right to be there as anybody else. You deserve your place.”

I know there are still hurdles to climb and that my past could impact upon my future but I don’t see the barriers anymore just challenges to overcome.

By Devon (name changed to protect identity)

Useful links 

  • Comment – Let us know your thoughts on this post by commenting below
  • Information – We have practical self-help information on universities, colleges and education.
  • Discuss this issue – There are some interesting discussions related to this issue on our online forum

Changes to filtering rules – Will you still need to disclose your criminal record?

On the 30 January 2019, the Supreme Court directed the government to fix the broken Disclosure and Barring Service system.

The Supreme Court ruled that two aspects of the filtering regime – as it applied to multiple convictions and childhood cautions – was disproportionate and in breach of Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights.

Unlock intervened in that case and we were pleased to hear last week the government announce that it intended to fully comply with the Supreme Court ruling on filtering.

The planned changes will remove the automatic disclosure of:

  • youth cautions, reprimands and warnings (an out of court disposal issued to young offenders that were replaced by youth cautions in 2013); and
  • all spent convictions where the individual has more than one conviction (except where disclosed under the other rules).

We believe that the changes are the first step towards achieving a fairer system that takes a more balanced approach towards disclosing criminal records.

You can read our response to the governments plans, and find out more about the impact these changes will have on you; there’s also a brief guide available to download.

We will be updating this page regularly so keep a look out for new information. Alternatively, sign up to our mailing list to receive regular updates.

More information

Being brave isn’t easy but it’s key to moving forward – Standing by my husband following his conviction

Standing by a partner convicted of a sexual offence is never an easy decision to make and as Julia’s story shows, can impact on many areas of your life.

 

My husband Gary and I had been married for 12 years when he was convicted of a sexual offence. I had no idea that he’d been downloading and viewing indecent images of children and from the moment I found out, I went through a whole spectrum of emotions.

I had moments of intense anger towards him but I blamed myself too – why didn’t I see what was happening? Why was I so stupid? The truth is, I thought we had the perfect life; a beautiful home, wonderful holidays and fulfilling jobs.

My initial instinct was to leave him and for a while I did, staying with my mum and dad. My husband and I were both teachers, working at the same school and for a while I tried to continue as normal. However, following the police investigation most of my colleagues and many of the parents became aware of what Gary had done and although my colleagues were supportive, the parents were much less so. Going to work became unbearable and so I handed in my notice.

Although I felt let down and deceived by Gary I still loved him. I couldn’t condone what he’d done but his conviction enabled him to confront some underlying issues that he’d never spoken about. So I decided to stick with him and give our marriage another go. Little did I know that this decision was the easy part.

There’d been a lot of publicity about Gary’s conviction, not least because he was a teacher. Whilst friends, family and neighbours were happy to help me when they thought I’d left him, once they knew that I was going to stand by Gary I was treated like a leper.

We felt that the only option we had was to move away. It actually wasn’t that difficult a decision to make, neither Gary nor I had a job and my beautiful home felt tarnished because it was where Gary’s offending had taken place.

Once settled in a new area we started applying for work. Gary was barred from working with children but very quickly found a job in a warehouse. The basic salary wasn’t that great but there was plenty of opportunity to do overtime which bumped up his salary. That June I was offered a teaching job with a planned start date of September. It was great news and I began to think that we could start to move on. That was until I received my DBS certificate because right under the ‘additional information’ section the police had chosen to disclose the details of Gary’s conviction.

In the past I’d never been concerned about my DBS certificate and perhaps niavely I’d not considered that my certificate would be affected by Gary’s conviction. My first instinct was to ring the school and tell them that I wouldn’t be taking up the job offer. If I wanted to avoid having to explain Gary’s conviction that seemed the only thing to do. I picked up the phone to make the call several times but just couldn’t do it. I knew that once I’d rung, there’d be no going back and I would have accepted an end to my teaching career.

If anything, the experiences I’ve had over the last few years have made me a much stronger person. I’d done nothing wrong, it was Gary’s conviction, not mine – I needed to confront it head on and then deal with the consequences whatever they were.

And so, I made an appointment to meet with the headmistress, telling her I’d received my DBS certificate and wanted to have a chat with her.

It was an odd situation to be in. Essentially the headmistress wasn’t looking at my DBS certificate to consider my abilities as a teacher, she wasn’t even assessing the risk I posed to the children. She was judging my character and questioning why a woman who’d spent years educating and protecting children would choose to be married to a convicted sex offender. The difficulty is of course that I made the decision to stay with Gary using my heart and that’s hard to rationalise in a professional employment setting – goodness knows it was hard enough explaining to my mum and dad.

My disclosure didn’t go quite as planned and at one stage I got quite upset. Throughout my declaration the headmistress said nothing, the expression on her face remained the same (even when I was crying) but when I’d finished she said:

That was a really brave thing you’ve done.

At the time I assumed she meant my disclosure but I know now that she was also referring to my decision to stay with Gary.

As I’ve just intimated, I did get the job. I was fortunate to meet a headmistress who was experienced and sensible. She knew there was nothing that legally stopped me from teaching and that Gary posed no risk to the kids at the school. I know the decision to appoint me wasn’t just hers and that she had to fight for me – I can’t thank her enough.

I’m not looking to leave my job anytime soon but I’ve heard recently that if I ever needed to apply for an enhanced DBS check in the future I could consider contacting the relevant police force and making a request that they don’t disclose the details of Gary’s conviction. It’s good to know that this process exists and it may be something for the future.

By Julia  (name changed to protect identity)

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Gone but not forgotten – Understanding the meaning of a spent conviction

A spent conviction presents real opportunities for people to move on with their lives following a conviction but Amy wants more to be done so that people with a criminal record can truly put their past mistakes behind them.

At the beginning of May I reached another mile stone in my criminal justice journey – my conviction became spent. Ten years from that day in court I am, according to the law, a fully rehabilitated individual.

Awesome!

But what does it mean. Well, I’ll pay less for my house and car insurance and I’ll no longer have to go to one of those ‘specialist’ insurers; I can apply for lots of jobs without having to disclose my conviction and my basic DBS certificate will now be blank – “nothing to see here”. I can be a trustee of a charity without having to apply for a waiver and I can apply to Google to have the links to my name removed.

So as you can see it’s a pretty big deal in the life of a person with a criminal record. It feels strange then that there are so few people I can share it with and it’s obviously not the done-thing to celebrate. If you go into Clintons Cards they’ll be a choice of ‘Happy Divorce Day’ cards but not one saying ‘Congratulations on your spent conviction’. I get it – it’s not something to be proud of, I shouldn’t have broken the law in the first place.

This really got me thinking – they’ll be lots of times when I’ll no longer need to disclose my conviction but it will always be there, not just in my head but still on the Police National Computer. If I want to apply for a job that’s exempt from the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act it will appear on my standard or enhanced DBS certificate and if I want to travel overseas I’ll have to disclose it on visa application forms.

Just think about that for a minute. The law says that I don’t need to disclose my spent conviction to fly a plane for British Airways or serve in the British Army, presumably because I pose no risk. But, if I want to be a football steward or a bouncer in a nightclub I’ll have to disclose and it’s more than likely that an employer will reject my application just because my DBS certificate isn’t ‘clean’.

As it stands, my criminal record will never be eligible for filtering and although I’m sure that my conviction isn’t relevant to a football steward/bouncer job, there’s no mechanism in place that would allow the DBS to apply a discretionary filtering process and disclose only those convictions relevant to the job.

It’s sad to think that my criminal justice journey has come to an end and where I am now is as good as it’s going to get. That’s not to say that I’m disheartened, I know there are people in a fair worse place than me and I’m hopeful that there is an appetite for change. 2014 saw changes made to the ROA for the first time in 40 years and at the start of 2019, the Supreme Court ruled that some aspects of the current filtering regime were disproportionate and breached the European Convention on Human Rights. We just need to ensure that we put pressure on the government to act now and make those changes so that those of us who truly want to move on and leave the past behind can.

By Amy  (name changed to protect identity)

A comment from Unlock

Together with the charity Transform Justice, Unlock has launched the #FairChecks movement to help push for a fresh start for the criminal records system. Our outdated criminal records regime is holding hundreds of thousands of people back from participating fully in society. This must change. The #FairChecks movement is calling for the government to launch a major review of the disclosure of criminal records to reduce the length of time a record is revealed.

Useful links

  • Comment – Let us know your thoughts on this post by commenting below.
  • Information – We have practical self-help information on the filtering of spent cautions/convictions.
  • Discuss this issue – There are some interesting discussions related to filtering on our online forum.

Why are insurance companies still discriminating against those with a criminal record?

Having just gone through the process of renewing his car and home insurance policies, Leo asks why more isn’t being done to challenge the excessive premiums insurance companies are imposing on people with a criminal record.

 

I was convicted of fraud in March 2017 and received a 5 year prison sentence. This was my first experience of the criminal justice system.

I now fully appreciate the stigma and prejudice those with a criminal record suffer, particularly when trying to obtain insurance for their home or car.

Under the Insurance Act 2015, a policyholder has a ‘duty of fair presentation of risk’. This means that an individual must be honest and if asked, declare any unspent convictions to an insurance company.

Unfortunately, it seems that the insurance industry views the disclosure of convictions as an automatic right to increase premiums, even when the conviction has NO adverse effect on the insurance you’re trying to obtain.

My conviction is for fraud. How does this impact on my car insurance? Does my conviction make my driving worse, and therefore make me a bad risk? If anything, I now have a job which is far less stressful that the one I had prior to my conviction which means I’m much calmer, less tired and less rushed. I’m also still on licence so always mindful of my actions – worried that a potential slip up could see me recalled to prison. So all in all less of a risk all round. However, my car insurance premium hasn’t been reduced to reflect that.

When I was looking to renew my car insurance many insurers simply refused point blank to insure me and those that did wanted to increase my premium from between £400 to £800. As my conviction will never be spent, I’ll incur these increased premiums and prejudice for the rest of my life.

I’ve had a similar experience with my home insurance – none of the well-known high-street insurers will quote for home insurance once you’ve got a criminal record.

I fully appreciate that if my conviction was for a driving offence or arson then this will, and probably should increase my premium. I have no problem with disclosing my unspent conviction but I feel that the insurance company should look at its relevancy, rather than immediately upping my premium.

Doesn’t the insurance industry have a duty to treat its customers fairly? I don’t see this happening and I don’t see them being challenged because of it.

What’s more baffling is, if premiums are based on risk then why aren’t insurance companies asking all customers questions about their drug and alcohol intake or whether they’re taking prescription medication for stress or depression – wouldn’t these factors potentially lead to more ‘risky’ behaviour.

The insurance industry is making millions of pounds each year by increasing the premiums of people with unspent convictions. Isn’t it time that they were challenged and asked to provide evidence that people with convictions have more accidents or make more claims than those without a criminal record.

By Leo  (name changed to protect identity)

 

A comment from Unlock

Since 2000 we’ve worked hard to try to make it easier for people with a criminal record to get genuine cover at a fair price.

However, there’s still a lot that needs improving and we’re continuing to push the insurance industry to use evidence-based risk-pricing models as well as monitoring the questions that insurers ask about criminal records to ensure they’re not taking spent convictions into account.

Useful links

  • Comment – Let us know your thoughts on this post by commenting below.
  • Information – We have practical self-help information on insurance.
  • Discuss this issue – There are some interesting discussions related to insurance on our online forum.

 

“I didn’t think that my dad was at risk of dying when he was sent to prison” – The impact of coronavirus on people in prison

Source: Adobe Stock

If you’ve got a parent or family member who is over 70 then you’ll no doubt have been concerned to learn that this put’s them at greater risk of contracting coronovirus. But what if they were in prison where they can’t self-isolate and you can’t check that they’re looking after themselves properly; that’s the situation that Janette finds herself in.

Like many people in the UK, I totally support the government’s decision to introduce the lock-down measures as a way of reducing the spread of coronavirus. As I work in a hotel I can’t work from home but I’ve been furloughed and I’m currently getting 80% of my pay so, in may ways I’m one of the lucky ones. Except my life is being affected by coronavirus and I can’t tell anybody.

In 2017 my dad received an 8 year prison sentence. It was a shock to the whole family and I don’t condone what he did but, he’s still my dad. Eight years seemed such a long time for a first offence but little did I realise at that time that he was actually being given a death sentence.

I’ve been visiting dad twice a month since he was convicted, during which time I’ve seen his health deteriorate. The lack of regular exercise, a good nights sleep and a diet that’s short on fresh fruit and vegetables have all taken their toll on the fit 72 year old that entered prison.

I last saw my dad in mid-March. We talked about the news and in particular, coronavirus, and although he tried to put on a brave face, I could tell that he was very worried about the risk of catching the virus. A few days later when I tried to book my next visit, I received an email stating that all visits had been suspended in an attempt to reduce the risk of infection. To start with I foolishly thought that this would be a short term measure but 6 weeks on and I can see no end to it.

When I saw on the news that the government were looking to release upto 4,000 prisoners on an early release scheme, I dared to dream that my dad would be one of them. I reasoned that if he were at home he would be shielding due to his age. However, even though he wasn’t convicted of a sexual or violent offence, he still has another year in prison which means that he doesn’t meet the criteria.

Last weekend I heard that 6 prisoners had been released ‘in error’ and therefore the scheme was being stopped.

In letters I’ve received from my dad he tells me that he’s now locked in his cell for 23 hours a day, there’s no education, no gym, no library and very little hope.

Ten prisoners have died so far but without the ability to self-isolate this will surely increase. I know the general public have little sympathy for men like my dad but he’s an old man now and no risk to anybody. So please, put my dad on tag for 24 hours a day if needed, but let him and people like him stay safe.

By Janette  (name changed to protect identity)

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Despite my criminal record, I am a good Samaritan

It’s important that any organisation working with the young or vulnerable carry out proper risk assessments and, as George’s story shows, formal criminal record checks and assessments don’t automatically lead to you being refused a voluntary role.

 

Just over two years ago I was convicted of an offence which means that I still have an unspent conviction.

My arrest and conviction was just what I needed to make me take a long hard look at the life I was leading. I knew what I was doing was wrong and during that period of my life, I’d pushed away the people that were important to me, making me feel more isolated than ever.

Although I needed an arrest to break my cycle of offending, it was nonetheless terrifying going through the criminal justice system, facing up to the crimes I’d committed and not know what would happen when I went to court. I was lucky that whilst I was going through this, I was able to reconnect with my family and some of my friends who gave me a tremendous amount of support – I don’t know how I would have got through it without them.

Finding myself in a much better place I decided about a year ago that I’d like to do some voluntary work to help others going through difficult times. I’d never contacted the Samaritans myself but I’d always been a bit in awe of an organisation who set out to ensure that there was always somebody there for anyone who needed a safe place to talk. And so, I found myself looking at the Samaritans website and finding out how I could go about becoming a listening volunteer.

I completed the application form and handed it into my local Samaritans branch and I was very quickly invited to attend an interview. Although there hadn’t been any questions on the application form about criminal records, I was fairly sure that I’d be asked about them at the interview but I wasn’t. There was a part of me that wanted to say something but I decided to just ‘go with the flow’ and tell them when I was asked.

I felt my interview had gone well and I was delighted to hear that I’d been successful and was invited to start my formal training. I was told that a pack of information would be sent to me setting out details of the training programme and telling me what I needed to bring to the first session. When I received this a couple of days later, reality hit.

I was told that although there’d be an introduction session where we’d introduce ourselves to each other, the main aim of the morning would be to do admin and form filling including completing the paperwork for our enhanced DBS checks!! I knew instantly that I needed to disclose my conviction before I got this far – I couldn’t bear the thought of meeting new people and getting excited and motivated by the role only to be turned down once they’d seen my DBS. So with some trepidation, I arranged to go and meet with the manager of my local branch.

The first thing I did as I sat down with her (Jean) was to apologise for not having had this conversation sooner. I was so nervous that my palms were sweating like mad but my mouth was so dry I could barely speak. Jean offered me a glass of water and told me to take my time. At the end of my disclosure she said:

Well that wasn’t too bad was it?

She went on to explain that there were no blanket bans on any offences for listening volunteers and that all criminal records were assessed on a case by case basis. She asked me about any restrictions/conditions I had and thanked me for being so upfront and honest. She encouraged me to go along to the first session, fill in my DBS form and meet the others.

I really enjoyed my training although at times it could be mentally draining and the more I did the more I realised how devastated I’d be if I was rejected as a result of my DBS check.

When the certificate came back, I was invited to another meeting to discuss its contents before being told that the Samaritans had no problem with me being a listening volunteer.

I’m sure there are people out there that will be alarmed to hear that somebody with a criminal record has been accepted as a volunteer. Let me reassure you – I don’t pose any risk to anybody I work with or listen to and I’m sure that the rigorous training I’ve been put through by the Samaritans would have highlighted any concerns they had. Many of the people I listen to are so desperate that they are considering ending their lives – if you were that person wouldn’t you just want someone to listen to you, would it matter that they’d made a mistake themselves in the past.

By George  (name changed to protect identity)

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My probation officer is never going to be my friend but I have a better understanding of her job now

Source: Abobe Stock

During the time she was on licence from prison, Sally had a difficult relationship with her probation officer. It’s only with the benefit of hindsight that she’s able to see why probation did things the way they did and how understanding her offending behaviour has made her a better person.

I’m under no illusion that many of you reading this will vehemently disagree with what I say. If I were reading it several years ago I would have too and, I think that’s the point I’m trying to make.

During my last year in prison, I became aware of my probation officer. She’d visited my family home to do an assessment prior to my being allowed home for 3 days every month and she’d filled in the necessary paperwork which allowed me to be released on tag. My partner described her as ‘OK’ when she’d visited him at home but I totally got that she wasn’t going to be our friend and was grateful that she seemed competent and professional.

The day I left prison I met my probation officer in person for the first time. Hilary (not her real name) went through the various conditions of my licence and explained to me that as my conviction related to a work-related offence, I had to seek her approval before accepting any offer of employment and she said I would have to disclose my conviction to an employer even if they didn’t ask me about it. She gave me a form to fill in to

Help identify potential risk factors and any areas of concern.

In my view, the form just highlighted what I knew already – I wasn’t a risk to anybody and getting a job was high on my list of priorities. But to Hilary, the form seemed to be saying something very different – without a job I’d have no money and would be at risk of reoffending.

In total I was on licence for 2 years. I met Hilary regularly (weekly, then two weekly and for the last 6 months I was able to attend monthly) and each meeting I had with her lasted about an hour.

It became clear that we had different views and opinions on practically everything.

  • I wanted to put the past behind me and move on – she wanted to get to the bottom of my offending behaviour.
  • I told her that despite my parents divorcing when I was 5, I’d had an extremely happy childhood and had a good relationship with both parents – she told me that their divorce must have caused me some trauma.
  • I told her that I was coping well with the events of the last few years and had no mental health concerns – she told me I would benefit from counselling.

I’m sure you’re getting the gist of this ‘relationship’.

I was offered several jobs and was never asked if I had a criminal record but, due to the conditions of my licence, I had to disclose and the job offer was immediately revoked. I asked Hilary why, if she thought that I would reoffend if I didn’t have a job, why was she making it so difficult for me to get one. She wasn’t helping me, just putting obstacles in the way.

I lost count of the number of times I moaned and complained to friends and family about her

Bloody woman’s in the wrong job, she should have been a psychotherapist not a probation officer.

I did eventually get a job which Hilary approved of and, on my last supervision session before my licence ended, I was able to tell her that I had just been promoted. I remember being surprised when she congratulated me, shook my hand and told me she was proud of me.

Although my relationship with Hilary wasn’t easy, I never thought about complaining. I just accepted the fact that she had a job to do, even if she did it in a weird way. And, lets not forget, it was my own offending behaviour that had put me in that position.

Looking back at that time now I can see that there were lots of reasons why Hilary did what she did, even though it made little sense to me at the time.

When I left prison I just wanted to put all that stuff behind me and start my life again. I knew that I was mentally strong and I just wanted to carry on as I’d left off before my conviction (albeit without breaking the law). But, Hilary knew better than anyone that you can’t have been convicted and imprisoned without it leaving some mark. I can see now that she was trying to rein me in a bit, help me to take some time to adapt to life after prison and to give some thought to why I did what I did. She wanted me to walk before I ran.

Although I just wanted to concentrate on the future, Hilary wanted me to better understand the past – the triggers and patterns to my offending.

Going through this whole process and coming out of it the other end has definitely made me a better person with more insight in what makes me tick. I’ll admit now that Hilary played a big part in making that happen.

By Sally  (name changed to protect identity)

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Don’t be bitter, just be better

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Although the European Court of Human Rights ruled that Indeterminate Prison Sentences (IPP’s) breached an individual’s human rights, many men and women remain in prison with no idea of when they’ll be able to leave. Max served over 12 years in prison after being given a two year tariff but he’s out now and starting to lead a new life.

Like so many others who’ve been locked up under an indeterminate sentence, I became very bitter and resentful. This was mostly because I knew that there was (and is) nothing ‘dangerous’ about me. I knew that if I posed a danger to anyone, I posed a danger only to myself.

Nobody was able to give me a true picture of what my sentence actually meant. I thought that with a tariff of 2 years, I would do 2 or even 3 years in prison and then get out. In total I spent 12 and a half years of my life in prison.

I won’t go into specifics, save to say I did not kill or injure anyone. Although it’s no measure of anything, my offence was not sexually related either, so I was surprised by the period of time I spent inside.

After several years I managed to get to an open prison where I secured a role that involved working with the public. I definitely began scratching my head at that point, I’d gone from being ‘dangerous’ to interviewing and helping members of the public with their own problems. I found this voluntary job really rewarding and through my own efforts (I’m definitely patting myself on the back and blowing my own trumpet here), my bitterness began to abate.

During the time I spent in prison, I’d always made the most of every opportunity given to me and, prior to release I became aware of a scheme being run collectively by the Cabinet Office, the Civil Service and the Ministry of Justice called the Going Forward into Employment programme. It’s main aim was to help ex-offenders overcome the barriers to finding employment that can be caused by a criminal record, by helping them gain employment in the Civil Service.

This was a truly fantastic opportunity for me; I could leave the past behind and start a meaningful career within the Civil Service.

I’ve left prison now and I’m currently working for the Prison and Probation Ombudsman where I’m involved in the investigation of complaints from those in custody. I work with a great group of people who investigate complaints honestly and impartially. They don’t have the lived experience I have but one of the benefits of the programme is allowing us all to learn from each other and see a situation from both sides.

I’m not necessarily where I want to be yet but thank goodness that I’m not where I once was.

By Max  (name changed to protect identity)

Useful links

  • Comment – Let us know your thoughts on this post by commenting below.
  • Information – We have practical self-help information on leaving prison.
  • Discuss this issue – There are some interesting discussions related to leaving prison on our online forum.

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