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Experiences
'Minimum Security?' by Tony, acrylic on canvas, Boom Gate Gallery
It was just another typical day in jail when word arrived. As soon as my name was called and the paper handed to me at morning muster, mixed feelings of surprise and anticipation began welling up inside. “This is unexpected today,” I thought, before quickly turning to “Who's it from I wonder?” Flipping over to the sender it leapt off the paper: the letter was from a distant friend.
And like so many of my fellow inmates, I felt a sudden fear I was about to be rejected.
Memories instantly flooded my mind: the last time we had seen each other; the last time we had spoken; the last text. I had been quietly hoping for this, yet had pushed it deep and far away as it had been ages since there was any contact between us. I retreated to my cell to reveal what the letter had in store.
It was just another typical day in jail when word arrived. As soon as my name was called and the paper handed to me at morning muster, mixed feelings of surprise and anticipation began welling up inside. “This is unexpected today,” I thought, before quickly turning to “Who's it from I wonder?” Flipping over to the sender it leapt off the paper: the letter was from a distant friend.
And like so many of my fellow inmates, I felt a sudden fear I was about to be rejected.
Memories instantly flooded my mind: the last time we had seen each other; the last time we had spoken; the last text. I had been quietly hoping for this, yet had pushed it deep and far away as it had been ages since there was any contact between us. I retreated to my cell to reveal what the letter had in store.
Separating the photocopies, I eagerly started reading. An update on how my friend had been and everything he'd been doing was there, as was a good sense of what life was like on the outside. But ahead of all that one thing struck the heart strings most: “Sorry for taking so long to write, you've been on my mind though,” the opening lines read. “How are you? Hope you're doing well.”
Just a few simple expressions said more than a couple of pages of detail ever could.
The feeling that I exist and am cared for by someone I thought I had lost carried meaning far beyond words. I buzzed with happiness, glad that making the first move to write to this distant friend all that time ago had paid off.
It didn't matter that there had been uncertainty about whether there would ever be a reply, or when the reply might come, or how long it might be. That all faded into the background. Because when it arrived, quality was better than quantity.
Separating the photocopies, I eagerly started reading. An update on how my friend had been and everything he'd been doing was there, as was a good sense of what life was like on the outside. But ahead of all that one thing struck the heart strings most: “Sorry for taking so long to write, you've been on my mind though,” the opening lines read. “How are you? Hope you're doing well.”
Just a few simple expressions said more than a couple of pages of detail ever could.
The feeling that I exist and am cared for by someone I thought I had lost carried meaning far beyond words. I buzzed with happiness, glad that making the first move to write to this distant friend all that time ago had paid off.
It didn't matter that there had been uncertainty about whether there would ever be a reply, or when the reply might come, or how long it might be. That all faded into the background. Because when it arrived, quality was better than quantity.
In Six Months, Richard Will Be Free. He Has No Idea Where He’ll Go.
By Sam Harris
I wonder whether Richard’s new-found “freedom” will be just another word or, perhaps, a new-found sentence.
Experiences
ISSUE NO. 21
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4 MIN READ
The Things That Caught Me Off Guard Going to Prison for the First Time
By Gary Griffiths
The biggest thing that caught me off guard when I got out to the sentenced jails was how comfortable people were just doing four or five years like it was nothing.
Experiences
ISSUE NO. 21
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3 MIN READ
Stolen Culture: How Victorian Prisons Are Losing Aboriginal Art and Getting Away With It
By Kelly Flanagan
The handling of Aboriginal art and the ignorance around cultural significance by prisons in Victoria is appalling. This was my experience. It happened to me more than once, and no one was ever held accountable.
Experiences
ISSUE NO. 20
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5 MIN READ
Employment After Prison: Give Us a Chance
By Ashleigh Chapman
I don’t want to be on Centrelink – I want to work. I will cook, clean, waitress, pick up rubbish – anything. But I cannot because of a Police Check and Working with Children’s Check.
Experiences