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I had no illusions about release. Life was not going to unroll before me like a hand-woven carpet lined by topless angels waving spliffs rolled with fifty quid rizlas. If nothing else, there would be the small matter of my having dealings with the various bureaucracies that comprise a modern society.
Having been enmeshed in the most potent of bureaucracies all of my adult life, I have a profound appreciation of bureaucracy and the individuals whose collective efforts shape them. They can be scary. Bureaucracies that are intended to “help” us mere mortals in some way are perhaps the scariest of all.
Having no existence but as an occupant of a cell, a number on the Roll Board and an entry on the PNC then I would inevitably be visiting more bureaucracies In Freedom than most. And let’s be perfectly clear here – I am exceptionally fortunate as ex cons go in the level of support that I have. Friends, family and The Editor all surround and support me.
Just as well. For I was discharged with the statutory £46 quid, intended to last until either a job or benefits arrived. Being one of the leper class, a job was not high on the list of probable miracles to occur.And again, I am luckier than most, with several things “in the pipeline” as media folk would say.
Sans employment, I report myself to the Jobcentre. One of the many and varied of my new experiences and I was comforted by the design and furnishings.My mental picture of Jobcentres rests on a sketch in a 1960′s comedy, so the soft chairs and PC’s were a slight surprise. The service on offer was less so.
This is the moment when it should crystallise with some people (all of us who give a damn) that a con being released is in a profoundly difficult place in life. He may well have lost his family support as well as his job and home. He leaves prison with zero social capital, or any other sort of capital. If he has an address to go to, he gets -as I did – a discharge grant of GBP46. If homeless, that doubles.
This money has to cover all and any expenses. Food, clothing, rent, transport, all that life requires. It must last until either wages or benefits arrive. Which returns me to the Jobcentre…
I applies for Jobseekers Allowance weeks ago. And now I am told that it is unlikely to arrive until I have my National Insurance Number. Which I cannot get until I attend an interview to prove my identity. Which cannot take place for another few weeks. And I have no identity documents!
With friends, family and the Editor I am assured of food and a bed. I am fortunate. Many of the nearly 100,000 who pass out of the prison gates each year do not have such support and are thrown to lean on the benefits system.
And with, at most, GBP96 in their pocket which may have to last a month – and find a room for that! – then all of a sudden the reoffending rate becomes more comprehensible. For it is not what is done within prisons which has the greatest impact but what happens at the prison gate.
To be frank, if I had nothing when I left and the prospect of sod all for weeks ahead, then dusting off the Jemmy and balaclava may appear to be more by way of a sensible economic option as opposed to some personality flaw.
I have to ask. Does society have the reoffending rate it deserves?
Ben Gunn is “one of Britain’s best known
prisoners…he constantly questions authority and exposes the futility
of the system” The Times. Pleading guilty to the murder of a friend when
he was 14 years old, Ben has since renounced violence and consistently
fought for the recognition of the inherent dignity of all human beings.
As a result of speaking truth to power, Ben has served far longer than
the recommended 10 years, leading Education Secretary Michael Gove to
argue that Ben “has been punished excessively for a crime committed as a
child”, and Lord Ramsbotham to state that “It is expensive and
unnecessary to keep Ben Gunn in prison”.
2012-09-17 20:43:20
Source: http://prisonerben.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-resettlement-joke-and-reoffending.html