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Story Type: Your Stories

The day I lost my Id

Sarah Hastings

The Freudian definition of id is the unorganized part of the personality structure that contains a human’s basic, instinctual drives.

Life happens. Well at least we say it does. Truth is, life did just keep happening – to me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to bore you with some woe is me, my childhood is to blame type tale. This is simply about the day I lost my id.

I’ll tell you briefly because I have gone through far too much counseling, too many group sessions, one-to-ones, forensic therapy sessions, focusing on the action of my crime and supposedly the reasons why. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that I had to go through the various methods of therapy and I have learned a lot from them. I regret what I did and as the old cliché goes, if I could turn back the clock I would.

Here is a brief history of my life before the fatal day.

I’m a mum, and a good one at that considering I lost mine when I was four. Understandably I had no maternal instinct or inclination. I would have had a termination if it wasn’t for the fact that I was twenty three weeks pregnant when I found out I was carrying a child who would affectionately become known as my one son.

My baby girl came along ten years later.

Life was fun. I was young, performing gigs with two different bands, doing backing vocal session work in studios, working nine to five, partying and single.

The biological donor of my son (my son’s words not mine) was not interested in becoming a father.
Anyway, it wasn’t a big love affair so when he said he’d had a vasectomy (27yrs old-yeah right!) I accepted it and went on my merry way.

In my early teenage years I was raped on more than one occasion, lost my best friend in a train accident, went to boarding school, became devoted to listening to Billie Holiday and watching old black and white movies. I was in love with Axel Rose, Michael Schumacher and Robert De Niro. I needed this type of escapism because most of the men in my life were not very nice.

Looking back, being told I’m “too fat” when I was 5’8 and a size 10 wasn’t a reason to do an extra 5K on the treadmill in order to keep someone more insecure than myself happy. I was fooled with the “it’s only because I love you”.

I did not realize it then but this was all a prelude to my accepting the brutal, mental, physical and sexual abuse I would experience at a time in my life when things should have been pretty good.

I fell in love. Hook, line and the rest. He had green eyes, silver hair and loved Arsenal FC as much as I did.

I’m not exactly sure when it happened, it just did. Slowly over time. Mental before physical, then sexual after physical.

Once I had been subjected to the mental abuse for a long period of time I welcomed the physical as a Godsend because I knew it would stop, be it even at the point of death while losing consciousness. Because of the phone wire wrapped around my throat, or the unloaded gun which I believed was loaded (compliments of his mate Derek from Deptford) being held to my head . Or being pushed over a balcony from the second floor (teeth still missing). Whatever takes his fancy but, soon I know it will stop.

When the raping begins, I am devoid of all feeling.

This person, the womanizer, the degrader, the drug taking once love of my life who rapes me for fun, beats me for pleasure, who humiliates me by sleeping with my friends, next door neighbour and random innocents.

This man now controls my whole being. It is a symbiotic relationship which finally takes over and strips me of the last vestiges of the person I once was. This man, for some screwed up reason, I now think I cannot live without him, for some screwed up reason I still think I love him.

The day I lost my id was a fatal one. I stabbed him, God knows I never meant to kill him.

I went to prison. I have many labels now.

I have my id back.

Taken from Issue 17

Sarah’s Bag

Sarah’s Bag produce and sell feminine, fresh, and fashionable bags. For the past 11 years, owner Sarah Beydoun has made it her mission to work with women prisoners, providing them with opportunities that result in a steady income and a stable job after their release. Sarah realised that it is her duty and the duty of her community to also improve the living conditions of these women inside the prison. The hard work and effort of these women is a major part of the ever-growing success of Sarah’s Bag. Today, and as a tribute to their resilience and perseverance, Sarah’s Bag is giving these prisoners a chance to improve their life conditions in prison by beading pouches that would be sold by Sarah’s Bag. All proceeds will go directly to the Dar Al Amal organisation to finance the three rehabilitation programs in Baabda prison, Lebanon:
1. Providing legal support to the prisoners.
2. Rehabilitation of the Baabda prison.
3. Providing medical support.

Sympathising with the prisoners is one thing, while taking simple actions in order to make a change in these women’s lives is what matters most.
Each piece requires 10 to 15 days of meticulous embroidering, beading, crocheting, and hand stitching to produce.

Founder Sara Beydoun studied sociology at the American University of Beirut. After she earned her master’s degree with a thesis on female prostitution and women prisoners in Lebanon, she realised she could do something to improve the conditions in which women in Lebanese prisons were being held.

Sarah decided to set up her company as part of a rehabilitation programme, whereby women at risk from economic depravation or the stigma of having served time in prison would learn valuable skills in return for a reliable income and a stable source of pride, dignity, and empowerment. In the process, these women would be helping to revamp the centuries’ old traditions of artisans and textile makers in the Middle East for the purpose of invigorating contemporary fashion. The arrangement turned out to be successful, innovative, and highly efficient.

For more information please see www.sarahsbag.com

Taken from Issue 17

Debnheirs

Deborah Sibley

My name is Debs and I want to tell you about my story…

By the time I was a teenager I had just about given up on my life. Having constantly clashed with my family throughout my teens I was eventually fostered by my best friend’s mother. Although happy there, I fell pregnant at a young age and moved out to start a family with the father. However, after growing apart we separated and my daughter and I began living alone in a council house in Beaumont Leys. Life was a struggle. I was in debt, trying to live off £20 a week and was surrounded by harmful people. I wanted more from my life but I didn’t know how to get it and couldn’t see a way out.

There had been a murder on the street where I lived and this encouraged me to move away into the city centre. I managed to find a job working in a bar, which made me feel so much happier and in control of things. I met my husband and fell pregnant again so things were going well for me for a while. But then my boss began to bully me at work. I lost my unborn baby and hit rock bottom. A feeling of loss and overwhelming sadness hit me and my family hard, and the anxiety I had felt before was stronger than ever. Feeling desperate and trapped I turned to alcohol and drugs which began to get me into trouble with the Police. My husband was in and out of court for violence and drinking at the time. Basically because of the bullying at work and losing the baby we got into drugs and we were arguing a lot and the family involved the social services. The police were coming to the house because of the arguments. We had a child there too.

It was then an Outreach Worker from the ‘Just Women’ project contacted me. We’d had a social worker out which worried us as things were getting out of hand and through my housing officer and social worker we met this outreach worker who I will call Helen. I knew that my family and I needed help and I could really open up to Helen. I realised that this was not a way for a young woman to live, so I enrolled on the project. I didn’t want my life to go downhill any more. I wanted to change quite early on but it was difficult to split away from my ex partner.

‘Just Women’ was my saving grace. It’s run by a charity called New Dawn New Day, which is based in Braunstone but works with women and their families from across Leicester and Leicestershire. The project provides a range of support services for people like me including money advice, one-to-one support, independent life skills and healthy living sessions. It was here that I met a fantastic woman who gave me counselling. She taught me to allow time for myself, to focus on ambitions, surround myself with positive people and to accept the good things in life. Helen gave me the support and understanding that I needed to let whatever was hurting me out and the courage to begin to turn my life around.

While on the project I discovered skills and confidence that I didn’t know I had. As a result I felt inspired to start up my own photography business. Since then I haven’t looked back. My company, ‘Debnheirs’ is going really well. It’s peak season for weddings at the moment so we are very busy and I’ve already received bookings for 2016!

Hopefully my story goes to show, if you are passionate about changing your life, you can. Help is out there. Through the Just Women project I have managed to turn my life around. With the confidence, motivation, skills and experiences I gained from the project, I now have a company to be proud of, a better relationship with my partner and my kids and a bright future for myself and my children to look forward to.

Women have to find the help themselves. It didn’t get help in my lap – rather I had to admit that I needed help first.

Taken from Issue 17

From Prison Slop to Organic Sausages, the story of Giggly Pig

Tracey Mackness

I was born in Essex and grew up with my family who had a fruit and veg stand. At an early age we were put to work on the market. My Dad was in and out of prison for   things such as hijacking lorries when I was growing up. I had one younger brother. When I was 16 my Dad sold the business after his last spell in prison. And I went off in a different direction then. Doing cash-in-hand jobs to get by as I’d always thought the family business would be my bread and butter for life. But now it wasn’t.

When I was 24 years old, I got married and divorced within one year. Then at 31, I  married again – and just like the last one, he was undesirable too. Shortly afterwards, I had a nervous breakdown and ended up in psychiatric unit. Later, when I was 36 I met someone else who took me on the journey I am on today.

He was importing drugs into the country. I ended up with a 10 year prison sentence for importing cannabis into the country. Looking back, I was in too deep and didn’t quite realise what I was getting into.

In hindsight, I feel the punishment was quite harsh. But the amount of cannabis I was helping import was one tonne, it was quite a lot. I played a role. It was a deterrent sentence and it worked.

I left prison with qualifications that I hadn’t left school with. I trained to become a   butcher. I put my time in prison to use. Getting 10 years was probably the best thing that happened to me. I’ve managed to carve a career out for myself.

On leaving prison, I bought 30 pigs from the prison to start up my business and now I’ve got my own pig farm. I’ve been out of prison for 5 and a half years. My autobiography comes out soon it’s called Pigs Might Fly. In 2007 I won the Barclays Trading Places award with the Sun newspaper – it gained me a lot of recognition and media attention. Then one of the men from Barclays bank wanted to write a book and asked if I would work with him using my story. The first publishing house he went to brought it straight away.

I’d like people to be optimistic, not too negative. Get out there and get out – the youth of today don’t seem to have that spirit I don’t think they are that driven. They need to have it drummed into them at an early age. When I look around and see what I’ve achieved I think that anyone can do it with enough drive.

There was not much further I could have gone down. The only way to get forward was to make the best of a bad situation. I proved people wrong – six years ago I was in prison and no one believed I could start my own pig farm. Now it wakes me up in the morning. That and the ability I have to want to succeed. I’ve come along way but plan to take things further. I still have plans for my own sausage and mash cafe one day.

Taken from Issue 17

Life’s Stretches and Turns

Carlotta Allum

I was born in Milan, but lived for my formative years in Manchester. My mum is Italian and a doctor although she couldn’t practice in the UK and my dad was a university lecturer. It was quite a liberal upbringing – I’m the youngest of three and struggled to find my own ‘thing’ in the family. I felt like I ran wild a bit as a teenager, the Madchester music scene exploded as I hit 16 years old, I lived in the Hacienda and embraced the druggie lifestyle – I found my ‘thing’!

I was swept away with a certain lifestyle, easy money and dirty cash became the norm. I was used to being a bit of gangsters moll, well looked after by criminal boyfriends, I wanted to do it, other people had done it before me, what could go wrong? I had built up lots of debts as a student, it seemed like the perfect answer and a fun holiday thrown in. Although it didn’t seem it at the time, it was a blessing I was arrested in LA. The laws are different over there and the same crime would have got me a mandatory 3 years in the UK.

I was able to plea bargain, if I got some one else arrested over my crime they would release me on bail. My routine medical showed me to be pregnant! I was released on bail after 8 months as they didn’t want the baby born in the US. My parents remortgaged the house to put up the bail and were incredible with their support – when it went to court I got time served as I had given a comprehensive statement against the perpetrator. On the whole I think they were fair, but there were times I thought I was looking at 10 years and my mum was thinking of staying in a mobile home near the prison to look after the baby, so things could have been very different. You never know what’s going on behind the scenes and being released it came as real shock.

My prison sentence has affected me deeply and inspired a lifelong interest in the welfare of prisoners. I can not believe I was that stupid looking back, I was so naive. I learned how important support is from your family and loved ones and having a life to come out to, I was so lucky, but there were girls in their with no one and nothing. Having a serious offence on my record has caused a lot of problems in my chosen career, I do not think drug offences should be classed the same as violent or sexual offences, I trained to be a teacher then found it very hard to get work, no one knew what to do with me.

Today. I run a charity called STRETCH that facilitates arts projects for marginalised groups and the offending community. It is my passion and I am driven in my work, I love working with prisoners the most. Just as ex addicts are the best people to work with addicts I think there should be more peer mentors for prisoners.

If I could change one thing about the world, something that would have to be a global decision, would be changing the drugs laws, decriminalising as much as possible, the prisons would be empty, stop the violence and gun crime from drug cartels, stop it being ‘cool’ and underground, make money from taxing it, deal with addicts in a completely different way. The repercussions would be huge – but I know it’s too big a job to contemplate, as the world would have to be thinking as one.

I’d like to think that I can inspire some women not to see a prison sentence as the end of the line, you can recover and lead a positive life afterwards. I have seen many women, including myself, who do time for their partners, I know it’s all very well to say in hindsight but we need to be strong enough to move away from the criminal activity before it gets to a custodial sentence!

My three lovely girls, my work and my life now is good today. Ooh lots of things make me smile, my three lovely girls, good food, blue sky, anything with Rob Brydon in. For more information visit stretch-charity.org

Taken from Issue 18

A New Life

Tracey R

My name is Tracey and I was convicted of fraud in November 2011. My sentence, which was a custody possibility sentence was scaled down to 60 hours community service and a one year suspended sentence.

After a marriage breakdown, in 2003, and a subsequent residency battle for my two young children, I descended the slippery slope into alcoholism. That journey took me seven years of a slow decline into hell. The times between the drink were the hardest times to manage and the only balm for that terror in my mind was another drink. The times between drink became shorter and shorter and there was no road back. I never paid a bill, I lost my home, my children and every ounce of dignity and respect for myself. My love affair with drink and then ultimately, crime had begun. I drank the country and then some dry. I was 39 years old, in a foreign country, working in an international boarding school, a beautiful home, a car, all the trappings of a well earned existence, displayed so very well to the outside world. But, the drink got a hold of me, the torture over the loss of my children, the knowing I had run away from the UK to escape the pain, the hurt, the destruction of a man I was once married to. He stated he was determined to ruin me and he took away my home, and finally, standing on the doorstep of the home we shared with our two children, he told me “I am going to make sure I destroy you” and that he did.

Family Law courts allowed that to happen, CAFCASS allowed what was once, a happy, loving relationship between a mother and her two children, to be eroded by a man who was determined to see me lying in the gutter.

I returned to the UK in 2010, joined AA for a while, off the drink life seemed to be going well. In January 2011, letters began to appear from debt recovery companies, regarding my solicitor’s fees from the court case over my children. I was living with my father and my stepmother and to my horror, scared, and all those feelings of what had happened in 2004 – 2006, reared up again and I took out two credit cards in the name of my stepmother. Instead of dealing with the debt recovery agency in a sensible manner, panic took over me and I committed the fraud. This was brought to light in May 2011 and I pleaded guilty to the crimes which were brought to court in November 2011.

I was asked to attend the police station on a voluntary basis, which I did and I have served my sentence. I do have to state that I was treated fairly and with kindness by the police. The judge, (who I wrote to, regarding the name of my mother, who is a well known character in my home town and I didn’t want her name read out in court, as she has mental health issues, with the press being in the court room) was hard on me, but I had only put myself there, nobody else.

I was convinced that I was going to prison as I was informed by my solicitor on that day that the judge was considering all options in sentencing. I knew, with some research of similar cases, that I was at least looking at a term of 18 weeks. I took a bag with me to the court, prepared, but had instructed my solicitor that I would want an appeal were I to be given a custodial. My presentence report provided by probation was excellent, because I worked with probation rather than against them and I certainly listened at every opportunity to what was being said and asked questions. My mitigating circumstances were presented in an articulate way in that I had admitted guilt, whereby the credit card companies had not produced all of the evidence, but rather than waiting for the evidence to be fully submitted, I asked that the judge deal with me on the basis that I was guilty on the two counts.

Since sentencing, my life has changed immensely. In January 2012, I went to the doctors with an ache under my arm, my doctor sent me referred me to breast clinic and after diagnostic mammogram and ultra sound, a mass was found in my left breast. Biopsy followed and subsequently a diagnosis of Ductal Carcinoma in Situ, was confirmed. This is the earliest form of breast cancer, still in the ducts and does not metasise to any other parts of the body. I had a lumpectomy and a course of radiation and nine months later, I have been given the all clear. I have worked hard, am due to begin a degree course in February with the Open University and I am working for a friend translating her export documents. I have got married to a man who I met in AA and have a home that I love and cherish and my life is very different from the hell I was living.

Was committing a crime the best thing that ever happened to me? Absolutely not. I could never be a person who will advocate that a person sorts themselves out when faced with a prison sentence. That said, the experiences around my research, the women I came across serving my community service, being on the Unlock forums, as one of a very few women, has had such an impact on me. I was the only female on the health and safety course that is a requirement of all “clients” on probation have to take before community service commences. My probation officer was very aware that I would be a sole female on the community service so she moved me to a different office, where I could serve my community payback hours with other women offenders. This eased my worry on that score. Not because I wanted to be treated differently, but that I would have felt more productive with women and men than I would have, being a lone female in a van full of men. My probation officer, a woman herself, was very pro-women and their rehabilitation and I was lucky in that respect, having her assigned to my case. I do know that not all women are as blessed as I was.

Recovery from an addiction, is never easy. That tears you up inside, as my problems really didn’t begin until I put the alcohol down. Being without my children, is like being stabbed every single day. Never watching them grow up, wondering if they will ever want to see me again. Only time and me being sober and showing them that I am the mother they can rely on. The Family Law system let my children and I, down. I played my part in the breakdown of the marriage, but to be emotionally abused by my husband and to have my children taken and turned against me, by a man who once loved me, was my over the cliff point.

Recovery from committing an offence and accepting that one did wrong is also never easy, it takes a lot of soul searching, a lot of self honesty to come to terms with the guilt, the hurt I have felt at causing my father the worry and concern. My crimes are part of a life, that I no longer lead. But I am still the person that committed those crimes, always will be, I have come to terms with that. I simply had to. My husband, who when I met him, I hid the crimes I committed from him, but eventually he knew that something was eating away at me. I never told him until he could take it no longer and just before my case, we did split up. He came and found me, three weeks after my sentencing, having read the newspaper article. It has taken a lot for me to open up to him, full of fear, but with guidance from him, it all came pouring out.

My alcohol addiction?, I have not taken a drink now for over two years. My alcohol addiction was never to blame for my crimes. The only person to blame for those was me. I am a child of a schizophrenic mother, so from an early age, I was the parent, my mother was a dangerous parent in that I was neglected, never fed, my mother never paid a bill, to run deeper into this would have achieved little by way of explaining the crimes I committed. I committed them, I am almost at the end of my sentence and my life is moving forward.

With my children, it can only be time where I am stronger and they can see that I am no longer a drunk. The sadness I feel swamps me, but I have a life and the sadness runs concurrently alongside I have done work on my self, it has been a tough journey, but one that I am now beginning to enjoy. I face obstacles as they come along and am much less anxious than I have ever been, for years I had plenty to hide, now no longer and that feeling of peace is priceless. I lead a very simple life with my husband and our dog, enjoy my home, my garden and taking care of my mother, along with the work that is home based. I aim to write, nothing earth shattering, but short stories to put together for my children to perhaps read one day to their own children. I write to my children every week, with no response, but I somehow gain some peace from those letters.

Crime never pays. It hurts people, it destroys and erodes families, trust, love, all the basics that bring enjoyment and pleasure to life. I have hurt people immensely, making amends is not easy to face and the only way I can make amends is if I am allowed to. I, in making amends have to be strong enough to face my victim, my father’s wife, my stepmother. At the time of writing both of them want nothing to do with me, I can understand that, it was personal, it hurt them. Despite family feuds that have happened, my behaviour is what I have to live with. I am slowly coming to terms with this. I in committing the crimes, thought I was hurting a person who had done my family a lot of damage, but in throwing the hot coal, I was burned first.

Almost a year since my court appearance, life has calmed to a pleasant time for me. I have lost a lot, but gained something very different and with that, I shall move forward slowly and confidently and try not to look back too much and learn that guilt will only do me damage inwards and cause me pain. I have paid my price, far, far higher than the sentence and my belief is, sentencing is about change, about being able to live a life with a conviction and moving on from the punishment period to reformed.

Taken from Issue 18

A Champion Christmas

Grant Thomas

Monday January 23rd 2012. After a harrowing Christmas and new year period, which was precipitated by my latest bout of depression, sleeplessness and worthlessness, I rather despondently picked up the phone to call the First Step Trust. At this juncture my life had not fully kicked into gear. I had been volunteering in a charity shop for 12 months by this point but I was still heavily stigmatising myself with my mental problems, which I believe were in some part an explanation, not a justification, for my criminal record. I had been arrested twice before for failing to control my explosive temper fuelled by my mood swings. In truth it could, perhaps should, have been more. I escaped punishment on those occasions, but in this instance it was third time unlucky.

April 1st 2009. The G20 protest. Remember that guy you saw on the BBC news, or pictures in the Guardian and Daily Express smashing the window of the Royal Bank of Scotland? Yes, that was me. My most high profile angry and emotional outburst. Less than a month prior to the incident I had been sleeping rough on London’s streets with little help from the authorities. Without an agenda, motivated by little more than boredom, an abundance of pent up frustration was released. I was fortunate not to be incarcerated for my involvement in the riots at the heart of Britain’s financial sector. After admitting my guilt for criminal damage, charges of violent disorder and burglary were dropped. Some may say that I was lucky in light of the aftermath of the August 2011 riots where some people were sent to prison for merely stealing a bottle of water. My conviction led to a £390 fine and a 12 month conditional discharge. I have now paid my debt, financially and to society, and have been in no trouble with the authorities since.

Still, by early 2012 I was in a terrible state. After the phone call, I arranged to go for a meeting at the First Step Trust head office the following Thursday. They are a charity that create employment opportunities for disadvantaged people who want to get back into work whilst working in a real working environment that delivers competitive business services. It is real work, not pretend work. They accept volunteers, referred to as workforce members, who have criminal records, mental health and substance abuse problems. Sometimes more than one are inextricably linked. They have projects around the country which provide opportunities for people to gain valuable experience in mechanics, catering, administration, finance and more.

I was to work at the main office in Woolwich, South East London. Once I started, I soon found working in the finance department the role which best suited me. Initially, the first few months were tough and it just seemed as though I was randomly entering numbers onto spreadsheets without really knowing what I was doing. But gradually, the purpose began to sink in and I now understand what is required to work within the finance department of a real business. I assist in many important roles. As time has passed I have increased in experience and have been given more responsibility. I am capable of completing various tasks alone while at the same time knowing there is supervision there to help me. I can work as part of a team and sometimes help new workforce members. I have had additional support with motivation, job search and interview preparation.

I had not studied since failing to complete a Law degree in 2006, but I have recently started an OCR level 1 bookkeeping course, and will soon be starting a health and safety at work course. Now that I have a structured routine, a regular sleeping pattern and the feeling of going to a ‘job’, it has given me a real sense of purpose. A semblance of hope for the future. Rather than just being another angry and depressed young man who felt as if he had no right to exist alongside everybody else.

My social life has improved drastically. I now exercise regularly. I play badminton at least once per week. I recently completed 20 days of Bikram yoga. I eat more healthily and have even lost 21 pounds in weight. I feel more connected with my friends and family. And I have even enrolled on a module at the Open University, in International environmental policy, in my study towards an Open degree Bachelor of Arts.

Essentially, this time last year I did not consider myself to be highly employable. I now consider myself to be a fully functioning member of society who just wants to have another chance at life. Hopefully I can put my past behind me and live for the future.

For more information visit First Step Trust.

Taken from Issue 18

Curtis and Jodie’s story

Curtis and Jodie

Curtis and Jodie are making living together work for them, but they feel they’re not getting the right support

Jodie: We’ve been together a year and live together at a new place. So far it’s been alright; it gets annoying sometimes when you’re in each other’s hair all the time, but Curtis goes out and goes to college so we have stuff to talk about when he gets home. It’s good to have some space and not see each other all the time. We haven’t argued for about two or three weeks now, so it’s getting better!

Curtis: I’m doing Horticulture, Maths and English exams. I got a Level 2 in English and Level 1 in Maths and I’m really enjoying Horticulture – it makes me feel proud of myself. At home, we both manage the running of the house.

Jodie: Curtis is in charge of it at the moment though, and he always makes sure electric, food and gas have been paid for. He even puts something aside to buy me little gifts – he always puts himself last. My benefits haven’t been sorted since April because I don’t go to my appointments. When I was poorly I just couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed, and I was dizzy and scared to leave the house by myself. Now I know what’s wrong with me I can sort out my jobcentre appointments, but I just struggle keeping them all. I find my probation ones really tough – especially because I have about three appointments a week, and sometimes I turn up at the wrong times and places and get breached. I can feel quite overwhelmed as it feels like there are a lot of responsibilities. It is hard.

Curtis: We’d like to both move out of here and stay in a proper house, and start a family one day. There are lots of issues with this house, but the housing worker isn’t doing anything, even though we said we’d pay to fix some of the problems. We’ve got a broken window, so we get very cold at night time and I’d say we’re quite neglected by our housing worker. The rules for us to move in were that we both got on courses and that the worker would come here twice a week.

Jodie: This was meant to be a month long tester and we’ve now been here four months and haven’t even been told if we’ve passed yet. Twice since living here we’ve run out of electricity the day before his payday, and we’ve asked for a tenner top-up and they’ve told us ‘no’. So I see that as them saying ‘actually go out and get your own money’. There’s a massive lack of support. They told us this would make or break us, and at first it did nearly break us, but we’ve realised we are going to argue at times but we can still get through it.

Curtis: I’d say our lives have definitely improved since we’ve been together. Jodie’s kept me out of lots of trouble – she told me she won’t be there when I get out of prison, so I don’t do anything stupid! She used to be a bit of a bad fighter too, but I don’t let her get into trouble either. We help each other and really mean a lot to each other. We keep each other from committing crime. It’s definitely been a beneficial relationship for us and I think we’ve found a good balance now we’re living together.

Jodie: Social workers say we shouldn’t be living together, because we used to argue a lot, but we’re working at it, and I just don’t think they look at the positives. Yes I may have been breaching but we’re not getting into trouble and committing crime. It does my head in that they don’t see the good in us.

We are thrilled to announce that since this interview, Jodie and Curtis have got engaged. Congratulations from all of us at Unlock and User Voice!

Taken from Issue 19

Aaron’s story

Aaron

Aaron writes about the challenges of resettlement and his hopes for the future

My experience since being out of prison is that they just throw you out and just leave you, and they only step in when you mess up. They’ll then say they were there all along when they actually weren’t. I find they hold you back so you’re forced to bend to their rules. I think workers should do more follow-ups and be like a friend rather than acting like you’re a piece of paperwork.

What I wanted when I came out of prison was a place in college and a flat, but I had nothing and was put back with my parents, who I don’t get on with, but the rules are that I have to spend two nights out of the week there. I had lots of appointments that were nothing to do with my offence and it was up to me to get my placement at college. I can’t say I benefited from any of the resettlement offering. They never put me in college when I applied for Business Level 3; the worker phoned up and told them about my offence, which I thought was a bit of a piss-take because it was nothing to do with her.

I don’t feel I get any financial support either; they don’t tell you anything. I came out of prison with broken bones from fighting in there and the doctors just said I’d be fine. Five months down the line my injuries are still giving me trouble, but you’re just left to your own devices – except the times when you want to be left alone of course. No one tells you anything; they just say “here’s your worker, here’s your timetable, now don’t breach.”

I just want the support to be there to help me get on my feet and get my life back on track, because the first three months are the worst as you’re still in routine and in the prison habit, so you’re trying to find that routine. They should give you more of a helping hand with your housing, work and signing on. They don’t really ask you what you need, and if you tell them they just tell you they know more than you and that they’ve been doing their job for a long time. They seem to think more about the system, rather than the individual. Every person is different with their own personality and all we want is to live in a place that’s comfortable and safe – that’s all anyone wants from where they live.

Two people have really helped me: my old worker and Ricky from User Voice. Everyone else doesn’t really seem to help much. I could talk to my old worker as a friend because he’s been through it and he knows what the deal is. He visited me lots in prison and talked to me about general life, not just prison things. He helped me deal with things as best as possible and I trust him.

User Voice is different to a lot of YOTs because they know what it’s about. They haven’t come from a nice little posh lifestyle where youth work is just a job. People in User Voice are genuine people, rather than some YOT workers who see you as a dot in the system and expect to see you back inside.

I’m told I’ve had quite an influential role in User Voice, and through my involvement in events with the YJB and CRAE. I’m making a change – not just changing myself but helping change the system and other young people.

Where I grow up it’s like a big family and you’re helping young ones, friends’ brothers and sisters; it’s all about helping them take the right direction and do something with their lives.

My hopes for the future are to work for User Voice or to be a YOT worker, because I think it would be better to work within your community and provide a better service to them.

BIG UP USER VOICE!

Taken from Issue 19

Lisa’s story

Lisa

From living alone at 17, Lisa has just won a YJB prize for her youth work

I was 17 when I got my own place. I was with a few mates before that, just sofas and that sort of thing, which was horrible because I never knew where I was going to spend the next night. I felt quite unwanted and like I had nowhere to go, which wasn’t nice.

My mum kicked me out which is why I ended up living on sofas. My stepdad was an alcoholic and quite pervy and when I told her about it she wouldn’t believe me, even though she was there when it happened. She just got really defensive and kicked me out. I’m gutted about the relationship with my mum because I used to be really close to her. She kicked my sister out too when she was only 16.

I’m finding it hard and expensive having my own house. Budgeting and paying my bills is easy, but it’s not nice doing it, because I never had to do it before, but now I’m coping alright – although it leaves me a bit short sometimes. I have quite a bit of support. I have foundation housing and a youth service which helps me out if I need help with my money, or just someone to chill with when I’m a bit bored, so they help a lot.

I suppose I am coping. I don’t feel depressed or anything, but sometimes I do wish I could go back a couple of years and change things and sort stuff out with my mum and that sort of thing.

Money is really tight. The Jobcentre ‘forgot’ to pay me and gave me a crisis loan of £40 to last two weeks, but usually I get £50 a week. Out of that I pay £20 for electric and £10 for the TV licence. I’m meant to be getting a bursary from college of about £40 a week soon too. Two months ago my hot water stopped and the council didn’t really help, they just kept blaming me, saying I wasn’t around when they called, but I know they didn’t call. They still haven’t been round and I’m still without hot water. I’m coping because there’s an electric back up system, but it’s really expensive – about six or seven pounds for a bath.

I don’t feel I’m getting much YOT support. They’re actually really starting to wind me up now! They just don’t seem to want to talk to me at all. It’s like they only want to talk to me if I’m in trouble. I’m still on an order until next April and I don’t feel I’m getting the right support.

I’ve got other activities I’m involved with though. Obviously I like doing User Voice, and an education worker has got me doing a charity thing for old people – I cooked them a Christmas dinner at Christmas. I really love doing that sort of work.

I had a great time at the Youth Justice Board convention too. I always do. I was presented by the YJB with an award for the girls’ group I’m involved with, which felt really good. It shows they really do listen and that the girls’ group is doing some good. I’m going to put the £500 prize towards a local community project, doing up a street. I’m going to be in the local paper again too, so yeah, I’m really proud of myself!

Taken from Issue 19

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