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For people with criminal records
For people with criminal records

Story Type: Successes

I’m following a different path but looking forward to the journey – accepted to study at university

A criminal record may necessitate a change to some of the plans we’ve made for the future but as Lachlan discovered, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

 

I don’t think I’m a bad person but I’ve definitely made some bad choices. Unfortunately, it was one of these that led to a conviction for assault and a 12 month suspended prison sentence. I acted without thinking and will always regret what I did but I can’t change that now.

At the time of my conviction I’d just finished my A levels and was considering what I wanted to do next – gap year, university, work? However, it quickly became apparent that thanks to my conviction I had far less choice than I’d had before.

Travelling to Australia (which had been top of my gap year destinations) wasn’t possible as I’d received a 12 month sentence, even though I’d never stepped foot inside a prison. I assumed that other countries would be the same, although I know now that probably wasn’t the case.

I’d wanted to study for a social work degree and already knew that due to the work placements the university would do an enhanced DBS check. I did loads of research online about the impact of my conviction and although I couldn’t find a definitive answer, I got the impression that most universities would reject my application.

My world had been turned upside down. One minute so much choice and the next – no choice and seemingly no future. I lost interest in the things I’d once enjoyed, had less energy, lost my appetite and just felt generally worthless.

Getting a job looked like the only thing I could do and so I started to job hunt online. I couldn’t believe how many companies asked about unspent convictions and the thought of having to disclose mine to a stranger filled me with dread; I just couldn’t do it. And so another door slammed shut in my face.

Worried family and friends convinced me to go and see my GP who prescribed me anti-depressants. I didn’t want to turn to chemicals to make me feel better and so I started to ‘self-care’ – yoga, walking and the occasional exercise class. As time passed I found I was having more good days than bad and on one of the good ones it suddenly struck me, my conviction would impact on my life but how much was up to me.

A criminal record and no work experience wasn’t going to land me the best job and so it felt that university might be the way forward. With all thought of social work gone, I discovered courses I’d never have considered before and eventually plumped for a degree in digital forensics and cyber security.

As I had been convicted of a violent offence and my conviction was unspent, I had to disclose it to the university. Even though disclosure was necessary, that didn’t make it any easier and there were several times as I wrote my disclosure letter that I almost threw in the towel. I started to worry about what people would think of me, would they gossip about my conviction, would I be ostracised, would I be ‘watched’ just in case I broke the law again? However mad these thoughts might sound, they were so real to me at the time.

In the end I wrote two disclosure letters; one quite brief and another which gave a lot more background around the circumstances leading up to the conviction. I emailed the university the brief version taking the view that I could use the longer one when I attended the panel hearing. Writing the disclosure statement proved to be quite a cathartic experience, it freed me from the burden of having to hide a part of myself and freed me from the shame I felt about my criminal record.

On the day of the panel hearing, I was nervous but felt as prepared as I could be. The panel asked me a few questions verifying what I’d put in my original disclosure but didn’t ask anything more. I was asked to step out of the room and 10 minutes or so later I was called back in and my place on the course was confirmed.

By Lachlan (name changed to protect identity)

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Domestic violence against men: It’s no laughing matter

Source: Adobe Stock

Whilst abuse of women is widely known about, it’s not widely recognised that men can be victims too. Finn’s story highlights the lasting impact that this lack of understanding and empathy can have.

I’m a 38 year old male student nurse. My life is pretty good at the moment, but things could have been very different.

Rewind to 2008. I was in a relationship with a woman and we had a young child together. I was also the victim of domestic abuse. Yes, you heard that right, I was the victim of domestic violence.

The shame I felt was immense and I didn’t know how to speak out; I didn’t think this sort of thing happened to men. After several false starts, I eventually mustered up the courage to speak to my line manager at work, opening up to him about everything that I was being subjected to at home. It was the hardest, most difficult thing I’ve ever had to talk about.

At the end of this outpouring of emotion, I looked up and him and – he laughed at me.

He didn’t really say anything but I knew that he thought I was a pathetic excuse for a man. This just reaffirmed what I thought of myself, the emotional abuse had stripped away my self-worth and confidence.

It was a fact, I really couldn’t talk to anybody, believing I’d get the same reaction. And so the abuse continued and I went into self-destruct mode. I started missing work, struggling to leave the house because I didn’t feel worthy enough. I had to get out of the relationship but I didn’t know how.

I had no money of my own and so, in a moment of madness and out of desperation I claimed for some hours at work that I didn’t work and also some benefits that I wasn’t entitled to, hoping to get enough money together to leave the relationship. I was due to start university the following year to train as a nurse and that’s all I clung onto.

That one moment of stupidity cost me my job. I was dismissed and also received a police caution. During both my disciplinary and the police interview I wanted to tell them about what was going on in my private life but once again the thought of being laughed at stopped me.

But worse was to come.

I’d started my nursing degree and only been on the course for a couple of weeks when I was told that as a result of the police caution my university place was being withdrawn.

As my dreams of a career in nursing disintegrated I somehow found the courage to end the relationship. My son initially stayed with his mother but she soon decided that motherhood wasn’t for her and she wanted to pursue her career, and so he came to live with me. This was the turning point for me, I knew I had to make a life for myself and my child. I kept the shame I felt about my caution and the domestic violence I’d suffered buried deep and just resigned myself to the fact that I’d never be able to carve out a career for myself as a nurse.

I threw myself into bringing up my son and started working in a care home to support us both. I gained numerous qualifications and got promoted to manager, but this wasn’t what I wanted to do, I wanted to be a nurse.

I knew deep down that I’d never be able to truly move on with my life until I’d got closure on the past. So I arranged to meet with somebody from the HR department of the company I’d been sacked from in 2008. I was incredibly anxious, worried that the response I’d get would be really negative or worse still, I’d be laughed out of the room. But I did what I should have done at the time and explained the reason why I’d needed to claim for hours I hadn’t worked. To my utter amazement, the HR manager was incredible telling me that I should have spoken to them at the time, that my domestic situation would have been considered as mitigating circumstances and I would in all likelihood have kept my job. For the first time in ages I started to see that I wasn’t a bad person.

When I’d arranged to meet with HR all I wanted was recognition that the way my line manager had treated me was wrong. However, they actually went further than that offering my a number of voluntary roles to improve my employability and eventually taking me on in a paid position.

My confidence grew and I began thinking again about becoming a nurse. Wanting to find out what my chances were of being accepted onto a nursing degree course, I found the details of Unlock online. After giving them details of my caution, the advisor at the end of the phone told me that my caution was ‘protected’ and would be filtered from my DBS certificate – I didn’t need to disclose it at all.

Two years ago, I completed my university application form and after a short interview I was accepted onto the course. A couple of weeks later I received an application pack from the NHS trust where I would be doing my work placement. The form asked whether I had any unprotected cautions or convictions and I proudly ticked the ‘No’ box.

I’ve just finished the first year of my nursing degree and I’m loving it. I’ve started to believe in myself again and taken control of my life. I’ve spent years beating myself up over the mistakes I made but at long last I feel able to move on.

In many ways, the world is a different place to how it was in 2008 when I told my line manager that I was a victim of domestic abuse. However, the popular image of this type of domestic violence is still based on the gender stereotype of a male villain and a female victim and incredibly, laughter is still a common response to male domestic violence.

By Finn (name changed to protect identity)

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

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

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.

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)

Useful links

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

Don’t be bitter, just be better

Source: Adobe Stock

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.

“Acceptance was the answer to my problems” – Getting into university with an unspent conviction

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Despite education being widely recognised as a key factor in successful rehabilitation, having to disclose a conviction will often mean that people with convictions are discouraged from applying. But, refusal from one university didn’t stop Henry from following his dream to study for a Masters.

I’m so pleased to be writing this and able to say that I’ve just been accepted at university to study for a Masters despite having an unspent conviction.

Although I was applying to study on a distance learning basis, the university asked that I disclose any convictions for any relevant offences. These were defined as:

Those convictions for offences against the person, whether of a violent or sexual nature, and convictions involving unlawfully supplying controlled drugs or substances where the conviction concerns commercial drug dealing or trafficking.”

Unfortunately, my offence was considered relevant. I’d previously been turned down for a similar course at a bricks-and-mortar university which would have involved spending one day each week on the university campus. The rejection letter I’d received had pulled no punches either which gave me a really bad feeling when applying the second time.

I felt that no matter what I said, my application would be refused.

I spent a long time putting a disclosure letter and personal statement together. I stuck to the facts about my offence and conviction but made sure that I showcased everything I’d done since then. I provided evidence of all the courses that I’d completed and mentioned that I’d participated in various therapeutic communities. This appeared to be the key to my success.

I had been asked whether the university could contact my supervising officer. My probation officer’s heavy case-load meant that responding to queries from the university wasn’t high on her list of priorities and I had to work hard to get her to deal with it sooner rather than later. However, the report she wrote was extremely favourable and, taken into consideration with the other information supplied, I was offered a place on the course.

The nature of my conviction is very stigmatising and the prospect of having to reveal it was daunting. For the most part, the people I dealt with were respectful and did all they could do to support my application and I’m really grateful to them for that. The Masters is a great opportunity for me to move on with my life and I can’t wait to really get stuck into my studies.

By Henry  (name changed to protect identity)

A comment from Unlock

Although Henry was asked to disclose his conviction, remember that universities should only be asking for this information if the course you are studying will lead to an occupation which is exempt from the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act, for example nursing or teaching etc.

Although it can be difficult to challenge questions like this, it’s important that you only disclose what you legally need to.

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I thought “offenders” were different to me until my friend received a criminal record

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Annie found it hard to empathise with anybody that had a criminal record until her friend received a conviction and went to prison.

I’ve been running my own hairdressing business for approximately 25 years now and, I’m happy to say that it’s very successful. I’m based in a town which is close to a men’s open prison and over the years several men have been in touch with me asking whether I have any vacancies for paid work – the prison apparently offers a barbering course.

Whenever I received one of those letters, I’d always make it clear that I didn’t run a barbers shop and therefore wouldn’t be able to offer them a job. This was a fact but it was actually only half the story.

In fact, I didn’t want anybody working for me that had a criminal record. Why would I? I’d got my reputation to keep and I didn’t want my customers knowing that I employed ‘wrong-un’s’. What if these people were dangerous? – hairdressers shops have scissors, bleach etc, all sorts of things that could inflict serious injury if they fell into the wrong hands. I didn’t want one of my customers getting their throats cut just because they complained about a dodgy blow-dry.

I can’t tell you how embarrassed I am when I re-read that paragraph now, but at the time I was ignorant. I was convinced that somebody like me had never met “somebody like that” – how could I have done? Well the fact is that I had “met somebody like that”, I’d known them for 20 years. We were good friends and for a large amount of that time they were breaking the law.

I’d never have known had they not been caught, convicted and sent to prison for 5 years. I’m not going to go into the details of their offence, that’s their story not mine. All I’ll say is that it was related to drugs. I knew nothing about the arrest until I picked up the local newspaper and saw the headlines and a photograph of my friend leaving court. I was shocked beyond belief.

Stacey (that’s not her real name) wrote to me from prison trying to explain what had led to her conviction but I just threw the letters in the bin. She wasn’t the person I’d thought she was; the person I’d shared dinner and wine with and who I’d shared some of my deepest, darkest secrets with. I remember saying to myself:

Well we all go through hard times but we don’t all end up in prison.”

I never wrote to her, never visited her and wouldn’t speak about her to mutual acquaintances. I totally abandoned her – what a fantastic friend I proved to be! That’s not to say I didn’t miss her, I did and that’s partly why I felt so angry with her.

But then 2.5 years after her conviction she turned up in my shop. She’d made an appointment, booking in with a different name – she told me it was the only way she knew she’d get my full attention for 1 hour. She looked the same but different; thinner but older and lacking all self-confidence. We didn’t talk about the conviction at that appointment, but she spent a lot of it apologising and asking if we could meet (just once) so that she could try to explain what had happened. I agreed.

I can’t say we became best mates again after that one meeting but it was just the first of many. I started to understand a bit more about her life and the front she’d always put on to protect not only herself but those around her. And, as time went on, I began to see that with or without a criminal record, she was exactly the same person, my mate.

Stacey wasn’t dangerous, she wasn’t the sort of person that would throw bleach over somebody or slit their throat with a pair of scissors – she was probably just the same as a lot of people with a criminal record. I met up with a couple of the girls that she’d been to prison with and I had to face up to the fact that they were all much nicer people than I was. They didn’t judge me when I explained my previous attitude towards people with a criminal record, they didn’t tell me what a rotten friend I’d been.

All I knew about people with a criminal record is what I’d leant from the TV but that was drama not real life. But, that’s no excuse for the way I treated Stacey or the guys from prison that had contacted me in the past and I knew that I wanted to try and make amends.

After we’d been meeting for a while, Stacey started to tell me more and more about her experiences in prison especially the number of women who enrolled onto hairdressing courses in the hope that it would be something they can continue with upon release. Realistically of course, they’re probably going to struggle to find employment and with very little savings will find it hard to buy the necessary equipment to start up their own business. Stacey had never been interested in being a hairdresser but I could see that it meant a lot to her to help women get back into work and I started to think that by helping some of these women I may be able to put right some of the wrongs.

I have to go back to what I said right at the start of this article, I’m a hairdresser, not a barber and I didn’t think I had the necessary skills to support a man doing a barbering course so for now, I’m concentrating on helping women.

Making contact with the prisons has been extremely difficult and incredibly time consuming and if it wasn’t for Stacey telling me to “hang on in there”, I might have given up. However, after almost 6 months I’ve just had a meeting with the Business Development Manager at one of the prisons and I’m hopeful that I’ll soon have a couple of women from the prison come to work for me whilst they’re still in prison. This will give them the opportunity to put what they’ve learnt on the course into practice and get a better idea as to whether hairdressing really is the job for them. I’ve committed to having two girls from the prison each on a six month placement. Obviously I can’t offer every one of them a job at the end of it but I’ve been speaking at several local employer networking events trying to encourage other salons to do something similar.

I know that I’m not going to change the world on my own and I also know that the reason for doing this is in some way to assuage the guilt I feel over letting Stacey down. But, as she said to me recently:

People in prison only need one person to believe in them. They don’t care how you got to where you’re at, just that you’re doing what you’re doing for the right reasons.”

By Annie  (name changed to protect identity)

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