Fay, an occupational therapist, and Kieran, a Loophole Music facilitator, talk about one of our secure hospital projects and the impact it has had on one particular service user.

Fay: Dean has been in hospital for over ten years. He’s got better, and then relapsed, over and over again. He was at a point where he felt hopeless and frustrated and like he had no reason to try and get better anymore. Music was really dear to him so we decided to give him leave so he could attend a Loophole session.

Kieran: During our first session together, I quickly realised that Dean has no control over anything in his life. So, I let him go through the process that he insisted on to make tracks, even though it made no sense musically. When he listened to what he’d made, he didn’t like it and asked if we could do what I had originally suggested. Although it slowed the process, it is vital that I let him try and do it his way. The respect needs to go both ways.

Fay: That’s what made the sessions work; Kieran completely respects Dean’s artistic integrity. Kieran at no point showed any judgement over the quality of the work, which was crucial to Dean coming back week after week. Dean does this interesting thing where he throws things out that are important to him. Each week he would come in and listen to the previous week’s work and shout at Kieran, insisting that he deletes it. Kieran was so accommodating while still putting boundaries in place, explaining to Dean that he needed to respect that Kieran had also spent time working on that track. It became a very true representation of a healthy relationship in the real world.

Kieran: Throughout our sessions, I’ve definitely noticed changes in this patient, all positive ones. Like Fay says, a friendship has formed between us. Now when he comes into the room for his session he is smiling and happy to be there. He still arrives in an explosion, knowing that he’s only got a 50-minute session and there’s so much he wants to get done, but now he’s jovial, whereas the first sessions were a little more confrontational.

Fay: During his time with us, Dean has never been able to commit to regularly attending activities before. The fact that he has felt able to attend these weekly sessions – and has even looked forward to them – has been instrumental to him in other ways. There is a piece of work that he has been avoiding for years and he has now agreed to talk about it. It’s a significant piece of psychological work that he needs to complete to allow him to progress in his recovery. This is due in part to the recent positive experience with Loophole of trying, succeeding, failing and coming back to it. Dean also has a very difficult relationship with his father. Through his music, he wants to reach out to his dad to show him that he’s doing well – the first positive contact with his dad in years. Loophole has paved the way for other work to happen and for Dean to build more positive relationships going forward.

January 2022

Author and artist Ruinbow writes for Good Vibrations about their experience of leaving prison during the pandemic.

People imagine that being released from prison would be a euphoric moment, but it is actually really stressful. Counterintuitively, one thing that actually helped me when I was released was that it was lockdown.

Because I have autism, I can find social situations really difficult. If I got out to see the whole world was doing its thing as normal I would have hit a brick wall. So the fact that everyone was under lockdown restrictions made the transition a bit easier. Getting the train was more comfortable, for example, as I was the only person in the carriage.

There is also a distinct novelty about the whole freedom malarkey, too! Using metal cutlery, the tinkling and clinking against the crockery. Feeling that shiver down your arm as the knife scrapes the plate is quite weird – somehow new and different. Walking down the street is strange too. There are no more gates, no more stopping and waiting for an officer to let you past. You can see far into the distance, and the horizon is so far away. Seeing yourself properly for the first time – that’s new. In prison you only have access to small square mirrors.

While I enjoyed the novelties and freedom, I was stressed about where I was going to live. I was released into a probation hostel. Some people hate being placed in hostels because of the restrictions imposed, but I was relieved to have somewhere to stay, even though it was temporary.

Finding work was much harder than I thought it would be

When I was there I started engaging with the Job Centre and Clean Sheet, a charity that supports people with convictions find employment. They helped me keep motivated in my job search. I had a vision whilst in prison that on release I would get a job in a factory or a warehouse, but it seems that a lot of these jobs are advertised and recruited by agencies. It’s not as easy as I thought it would be to get a job in a place like that.

Even if I had managed to get that sort of job, the strict curfew in the hostel wouldn’t have allowed it. In fact, the curfew meant that I had to turn down two other jobs that I was offered. As I had to turn them down due to external factors, I felt motivated to pursue my art, which I discovered in prison. I basically thought, okay, if I can’t work then I’m gonna do some art and work out what my next steps are.

And finding somewhere to live seemed impossible

I always knew that my stay in the hostel would be temporary and that I had three months to find myself appropriate accommodation. I managed to get in touch with various charities, organisations, and the council. However, as I was living somewhere they couldn’t help me, even though the hostel was temporary. Some of the other lads in the hostel were in the same situation. This was visibly affecting them. One person turned to gambling and when he lost all his benefits he got really drunk and was recalled into prison.

The help offered at the time of my release in February 2021 was really slim and the excuse was coronavirus. I didn’t get the support and guidance I required. I was told on the seventh week of my hostel stay that I was going to be leaving the following week. I was confused as my stay at the hostel was supposed to be 12 weeks long. The manager wasn’t there at the time, so I couldn’t raise the issue for a few days. Over the weekend, I was really stressed and found it hard to cope.

The manager decided to keep me there for the full 12 weeks. However, it’s not simple to find somewhere to move to as probation has to approve the address of all properties before you can move in. Housing benefit would cover between £250 and £300 per month of the rent, but it was impossible to find anything within that price range. There were some properties for around £500 a month, but when I contacted the estate agents they told me that because I’m unemployed and do not have a guarantor, they couldn’t rent to me.

I think this is a real problem. Somebody’s living space should not be viewed as a business opportunity. And if you do choose to make money that way, why would you turn away those people that want help? This is indicative of discrimination between the classes. The poor people have to live in a particular part of town, away from the rich people. And this means that everyone loses out – how can true community form when this is the case?

As I was unable to find an alternative, I was placed into a hotel after my 12 weeks in the hostel. A hotel is not a home. It is a roof over your head and nothing more. Other than a kettle, I had no means of cooking or preparing food, so inevitably I was living off Pot Noodles and takeaways. Once a month I would treat myself to an All You Can Eat Buffet and I would go straight for the fruit and vegetables to get some sort of nutrition.

I felt like my life was in someone else’s hands

While I was in the hotel, the council had to decide if I was “intentionally homeless”. If they decide you are intentionally homeless you have to fend for yourself, which basically means be on the streets. If they decide you are unintentionally homeless they have a duty of care to ensure you have somewhere to live.

They took some time to make the decision, which again placed me under stress. Eventually it was decided that I was unintentionally homeless and I moved from the hotel into supported accommodation. The flat I was placed in was classed as shared. There wasn’t nearly enough space for us there, which made things really difficult for me. The other occupant kept opening my bedroom door as well, sometimes as late as one in the morning. This made me feel really anxious and unsafe. Because I have autism it is important I develop routines that work for me, which I was unable to do with this living arrangement. I spoke to my doctor who recommended I live independently to allow me to find routines and to prevent me getting anxious about having to socially communicate with someone.

Finally things are heading in the right direction

After making a series of complaints, I was moved into a bedsit which I am fairly happy with regarding my own space and being able to develop routines. There have been some minor issues like the hob and fridge/freezer don’t work. It means whenever I buy ice cream, I have to eat it all in one go. I suppose the other option would be not to buy ice cream, but I wouldn’t want to hurt Ben and Jerry’s feelings.

The difficulty I have experienced in finding somewhere to live has really got me thinking about attitudes to housing more generally. Recently, I was talking to a woman who privately rents a flat in a block where some properties are owned by social housing. This means that some residents are only paying half of what she is for a similar property. I do understand her frustration, but it shows that the system is built so that people who require help are resented by those who don’t.

And I’m able to focus on what’s important to me

Now my life is moving forward. I always hoped that I could make art my career when I was released, but I imagined it would be a case of getting a job and slowly transitioning to self-employment. Still going to my appointments at the Job Centre while selling some pieces of art has helped me keep the safety net of benefits whilst testing out the self-employment stuff.

My work is now for sale on Prodigal Arts, along with artwork by other prisoners and ex-prisoners, and if you live in or near Chester, you can buy my art from Woodstock Vinyl Record Shop on Brook Street.

“At least under lockdown I had a roof over my head.”

This image shows a homeless guy who is longing for coronavirus and wants it to come back.

The homeless guy is represented by Charlie Chaplin’s “The Tramp” character. I think society just needs to pause and acknowledge that while coronavirus was undoubtedly a negative thing and devastated many lives, to some people it was actually a lifeline. The help that vulnerable people received during the pandemic is now being removed from them. The “wind” in this image that is taking it away is the government.

November 2021

Author: Benjamin Yacoub, Talent Manager at Twisted Passion Ent

Entering prison with a lengthy sentence to some is the end of the world. Although many give up and get involved with the drug culture to escape the realities of prison, others use the prison like the streets, with the aim of becoming infamous. Although society is changing, people generally still focus on personal goals like securing the perfect career and a family. But being in prison makes achieving these goals impossible.

This is why a lot of mature prisoners focus solely on settling down post-release. They often use their time productively focusing on faith, reading, studying, or finding a business or a trade through vocational courses. They will also often use the facilities within the creative space to focus on music, arts, clothing or whatever it is that interests them.

For me, I used education to rewire my mind while in prison. Rigourous studying and academia kept my mind grounded. I also focussed on music. I managed to work in the prison studio: making beats, teaching others, mixing tracks, and recording music for other potential artists in the system.

Still, being in prison wasn’t easy. My state of mind had to be strong to withstand the mental levels of one who is struggling with the pain of imprisonment and has yet to accept what they have done. And being released, too, comes with multiple tests of faith, trust and temptations. The anticipation of release can seriously affect one’s mental health. Without a strong support network, ex-prisoners tend to fall back on their old ways and look to criminality for support.

Now, parts of the voluntary sector are very astute to the struggles prisoners endure and make it a priority to support those needs. Through my experience with the Irene Taylor Trust I have got insight into the voluntary and charitable sector. As well as working with the Irene Taylor Trust, I have worked on scores of projects including the Philharmonic Orchestra, Lewisham YOI, The Prince’s Trust and with other organisations including Good Vibrations since my release.

Taking part in a Good Vibrations community project was interesting as I had referenced their projects in my postgraduate dissertation, without ever experiencing one myself. In my dissertation I spoke positively about its outcomes as my research question focussed on whether character building through prison music interventions has an impact on recidivism.

I quote from my dissertation…

“The Good Vibrations Gamelan in Prisons Project aims to inspire and empower people through creative involvement in music making and open communication. Similar to the Irene Taylor Trust, the project enthused effective-practice methods in twenty-four secure institutions in the UK, including young offenders’ institutions and secure hospitals (Wilson, 2009). Although the interventions have had a profound impact towards developing positive attitudes on inmates (Wilson, 2009), researchers needed to define whether there was any long-term financial impact of such projects. Therefore, a study was used to measure the long-term psychological, behavioural, motivational and pro-social effects on participants during the remainder of their sentence and post-release. Focusing on these cognitive functions helped the practitioners to assess whether inmates were engaging with the project, the practitioners and prison staff, and whether the intervention was successful in supporting inmates coping with life in prison and post-release. The findings not only found a positive impact on psychological, emotional and behavioural traits during the prison setting. But also suggest that months after the project, prisoners experienced more positive outcomes in dealing with decision making, rational behaviour and personal problems during the remainder of their sentence and six months post-release from incarceration (Wilson, 2008).”

For my own interest, I wanted to understand whether music interventions are only appealing to people in a less fortunate position or who have little resources, such as those in prison. Therefore, I brought someone to the Good Vibrations community project who had never been in prison before, to examine their interaction and engagement with the project and what impact it had for them. The person I invited is a friend of mine, Pav, who has never been in prison nor had any contact with the criminal justice system.

His feedback was interesting…

“On this project I felt open minded. When it comes to the music part, I am not usually good with instruments. However I felt motivated to give it a go. This also helped me realise that music can help me release a lot of stress.

“I would love to take part in this project again if I get another opportunity as it also helped me control my awkwardness around people. This felt really therapeutic as it made me realise how little things in life can make a lot of difference. In the intervention you are surrounded by strangers at the beginning, but the way everyone had different music sense and different backgrounds, everyone had their unique experiences, and we ended up leaving there like we’d been friends for a while.

“I would recommend this to anyone that deals with a lot of stress or can’t keep a clear head. I felt as if I developed a different perspective in life which will help me moving forwards.”

I can confidently agree with Pav on how the project worked well with people from different backgrounds. You could feel the excitement from others just from the atmosphere in the room. As soon as we chose our instruments everyone got into the vibe instantly.

I felt in synchronisation with others in the group, especially towards the sound and tempo, and demonstrating leadership by having the opportunity to stand up and conduct the group. It felt like creating a mini orchestra with a crew taking commands solely by following my hand signals.

As it’s all happening live, you have the ability to freestyle and change how you want sounds to fall in synchronisation. In addition, the facilitator explained the key points in the easiest way for everyone to replicate. One participant got right into the zone as he was conducting which brought a lot of fun and laughter.

As Pav said, the energy and the whole session was high spirited and positive. It felt life changing in that moment and it took my mind away from any negative thoughts outside of the music. I would certainly recommend it for rehabilitation of the mind. Also, reflecting on it months after taking part, I can feel how much an intervention like this is needed towards replenishing moods and vibrations. The energy outside of projects like these can be overwhelming.

I also would like to thank all the participants and staff involved in the project. It was a tough time and the invitation allowed me to participate with an open-minded, diverse crowd of people who appreciate music and peace. It was also great to finally participate in a Good Vibrations gamelan project after writing about it in my thesis. I look forward to projects in the future.

Benjamin Yacoub
Twisted Passion Enterprise

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Author and artist Ruinbow writes for Good Vibrations about how he got into art while in prison, his experience of being an art mentor, and his drive to make art accessible for all.

I did not take to art easily, I found it really boring and a bit pretentious. I thought most of it was just crap. I did not like the tutor in prison. She just wanted me to do colour wheels and draw pictures of apples, none of which interested me.

I was sitting in my cell one evening and my cellmate was watching something on TV. I was flicking through a magazine and I thought, “I could draw that,” I picked up a pencil and started drawing on some scrap paper. I was really happy with the results at the time.

On reflection, the artwork is not that good but it is the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction that drove me forward.
I kept questioning my ability at every stage with the desire to become better. I focused mainly on portraits and people approached me on the wing to draw for them in return for chocolate and shower gels (prison currency).

I became an art mentor in prison, working under the tutor that I didn’t take to, after being a maths and English mentor for education. I had already established myself as a trusted prisoner (not an oxymoron) within this role. The art tutor liked my work and knew that I could guide other people in the right direction. My favourite type of person was those who said they could not draw or do art. I just had to help them become confident with drawing. I never did any demonstrations for them but I gave them advice. I told them, you are just worried that what you draw does not look good or right, but when you were a kid, you probably didn’t even think about ability. You just drew!

I taught them to draw a circle using just words. I gave them a piece of paper, pencil and rubber. I said, “draw a circle” and they started to draw, some took their time and had a shaky line and some created an egg shaped blob. I asked them, “is that a circle?” and they replied “no”, so I gave them the option to correct it and every time they would rub out what they had drawn and tried again. I told them not to do that, never ever to do that. I explained what they have on the paper is not far off from being a circle and if they keep rubbing it out and starting again, they will keep on making the same mistakes. I told them to use what they have done as a guide and to imagine a clock 12, 3, 6, and 9. So split the circle into quarters. Ask yourself questions. What is wrong with that part of the circle? How can I make it better? I instructed them to draw a correct line over the wrong line (or a better line) and only when the better line is down on the paper, then and only then can you rub out the wrong line. I sort of became like a driving instructor, I just told them what to do and they were really happy with their results

They kept asking to see my work and they wanted me to draw for them as well so this gave me a regular source of income (the chocolate and shower gels). Being the art mentor also gave me a status of being the guy to go to for drawings. At first, I was charging £3 for an A4 piece and £5 for an A3 piece but as I became more popular I started to charge £25 for anything. I read loads of books on technique and I learned about a lot of artists in prison.

One day I noticed Koestler Awards advertised in the prison and I decided to enter. The drawing below won a First Time Entrant Award, Bronze Award, Highly Commended and this year my artwork was selected for exhibition.

The money that I received from Koestler I have invested in art materials.

I have recently been diagnosed with autism and there are several traits that support my passion for art. I have good attention to detail and I became obsessed with art, just wanting to know everything about everything.

Recently, I have been working on an idea that came to me from the pandemic. I noticed rainbows everywhere and this became a symbol of gratitude and hope. I thought because this was plastered everywhere on TV, in people’s houses and in shops, people will just associate these colours and the rainbow with the pandemic in the future, therefore they will be ruined.

I watched a documentary a couple of months ago about Banksy and I have seen how he works and creates his images. I started to do the same but appropriated the images with rainbows. I call these ruinbows. Before watching the documentary, I had the idea but the style was more of a multicoloured line drawing, starting with the lightest colour, and working to a darker colour building it up to a more accurate representation.

As I have recently left prison I am homeless myself, but I do have a roof over my head so I am in a better position than those sleeping rough. That is why I have decided to give away signed prints of my work to homeless people, so they can display and sell the work if they want to. It annoys me when people just walk past the homeless like their lives are so much more important than the insignificant people in shop doorways.

Why don’t people stop and talk to them, say hello, perhaps give them a little bit of money, and so what if they were to buy fags and booze with the money? I’m on benefits and I try to give a pound a week away to the homeless. I don’t think anyone should be homeless.

What I’m working on now

This piece didn’t take me too long to complete but it is for all of those people out there who make the excuse, “I cannot draw, I can only draw stick men” that they can still create recognisable works of art and it is what they do with those stickmen to create artwork.

This piece is again trying to urge those people who say they can only draw stick men to just give art a try. The fact you can only draw stick men is not a reason not to draw with them. People care too much about what they think an image is supposed to look like and because they can’t replicate that, they give up.

This piece took me two days to complete and it was really therapeutic. I was definitely in the moment with it and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I did not worry about any of life’s problems when creating it. This piece is not yet finished as I need to place the rainbow on it but you can see the process on how these pieces work. It took me a while to draw and create the black and white image, but I have now created stencils to make it easier to reproduce the image over and over again. There are 2 stencils that make up the image, a silhouette of the whole thing, all sprayed white. Then a flimsy little stencil to cover up the white parts and this is overlaid then sprayed black. The stencils are made out of cereal boxes as they are cheap material to work with. I want people to understand that making art does not need to be expensive.

I did this sketch on the way to Liverpool on the bus. Outside the window is just a road but on the sketchpad is the Mersey tunnel. I had a lot more time drawing the inside of the bus and the sketchpad with hands but in the tunnel was time limited. I had to work really quickly and decide which part of the tunnel to draw because there is a lot of turns and ups and downs in the tunnel. I got down most of the information on the first time through but completed it on the way back.

No. 12 in our blog series exploring creative approaches to transforming the criminal justice system.

Akin spent the last two years of his criminal sentence in a ‘foreign national’ prison. He moved to the UK from Nigeria as a child and has siblings who were born in the UK. In this interview he speaks about his own experience as well as the stories of other people he met and supported while in prison, many of whom were detained for months post-sentence because they were unable to secure bail accommodation or could not afford legal representation. Interview by AVID.

Content warning: This blog includes references to self-harm.

Tell us a bit about yourself.

I’m 42, and came from Nigeria when I was a baby. I’ve been in England forever; for nursery, primary, secondary, the lot.

Did you expect to move to a Category D open prison for the end of your sentence?

Yes. You do a sentence plan to get to open prison and I had done everything required. At first, everyone signed off, and then, literally like the day before the board, I got a slip saying ‘you’re of interest to the Home Office’.

On the following Friday, they moved me to a ‘foreign national’ prison. So that was a shock. I didn’t even know what a ‘foreign national’ prison was.

How did you feel about being moved to a ‘foreign national’ prison?

I’ve never known anything apart from England. So you’re telling me I’m a foreign national? Yes, we’ve done a crime, but people who have committed the same crime as me and are born here can go to open prison, but I couldn’t go. What is the difference?

There was a lot of young people there just like me, who have been here since they were kids. A lot of them feel betrayed because they love England. They say, ‘I’m British I don’t care what you tell me.’ If you’ve been here since you were six months old, how can you say anything else?

How is a ‘foreign national’ prison different to another UK prison?

As soon as you go to ‘foreign national’ prison, you lose a lot of things you’re entitled to in a normal UK prison, like legal aid for your immigration case. Because now you’re of interest to the Home Office, you have to pay for everything. It’s very complicated to get a free solicitor to fight your immigration case as you have to prove ‘special circumstances’.

People get stressed and frustrated as they don’t know what is happening in their case, or why they are being held post-sentence and there’s a lot more fights.

What was your experience of risk assessments in a ‘foreign national’ prison?

I’ve always been low-risk but when I arrived at the ‘foreign national’ prison they told me I was high risk. Luckily, I’d done my OASys [risk assessment] before I got there and got my solicitor to send them a copy.

A lot of people who get a lesser sentence don’t spend enough time in a UK prison to lower their risk. In a ‘foreign national’ prison, they don’t necessarily get the chance to do the right courses either.

The judge is looking at your record and thinks you haven’t done any courses in prison but maybe you haven’t been able to get on one in time.

How did having family support and a lawyer impact on your situation?

I’ve got a lot of family around me, so if I just call them, they just deal with everything. Where, a lot of people don’t have that. And it’s unfair.

For people without family, finding a bail address is extremely difficult, meaning they could still be detained months after the end of their sentence.

I was probably one of the first in that ‘foreign national’ prison to get out on time. Because I was on point. I had my solicitors ready. In the end I only had to spend like two days extra under immigration powers, whereas most people spend five or six months. For some people it can be over a year.

Some people are still there 12 months later because they can’t get legal teams or they can’t get approved addresses and they are stranded in a ‘foreign national’ prison.

Not even like in a detention centre, where you’re allowed a mobile phone. They keep you in a prison even though you’re no longer a prisoner.

Can you explain a bit more about the mental health impact of being detained in prison?

Some people do want to go back, but it’s really hard for people who are from here and that’s why people start to struggle with their mental health.

I met a guy who tried to kill himself who said I’m not going to another country, ‘I’d rather die here, and my kids visit my grave than going to a country I haven’t been to since I was six months old. I don’t even have my Mum and dad there. What am I gonna do?’

A lot of these guys are cutting themselves. I know someone who swallowed a blade because he didn’t want to be deported.

Even those who have only been in the UK for 3 or 4 years. Some of them were only stealing because they can’t work and they’ve been applying for leave to remain in the UK for years. It’s crazy because you’ve done something you’re getting 4 months for like theft at Sainsbury’s, but then you’re getting deported for it. These guys, they are the ones that are trying to cut themselves. Because they’ve come from really bad places some of them.

What does it mean when someone knows their rights and is able to exercise their rights?

It is so, so important to know your rights. A lot of these kids are lost; they don’t even understand what they are going through. They don’t understand that they need to fight their immigration case.

Charities can help bridge the gap by helping people understand their rights.

At the end of the day someone in detention isn’t a solicitor and they might end up signing papers they don’t understand.

What is life like for people who have been granted immigration bail but are still fighting their case?

Originally they said I couldn’t work when I came out. I’ve got a daughter to feed. My solicitor appealed it and we got a letter back saying he’s entitled to claim benefits, but he’s not entitled to work.

You feel like you’re sitting at home doing nothing when you could be helping. I began volunteering because it was something to do, and I can still be helping people.

Some people are just thrown out there with nothing. What do you expect these kids to do? You’re just literally getting them ready to lose, to go through the whole cycle again. And some of them have actually done courses to help themselves to gain something when they come home, but they can’t use the qualification anyway because they can’t work. So, what is the point?

What changes would you like to see?

The number one change is that they need more legal aid and representation for people’s immigration cases.

And then more courses so you can reduce your risk. Then letting people work when they are released.

I want to work. I’ve done enough time and done enough courses to turn my life around. I could walk into most places and get a job now.

_______

Good Vibrations has worked in prisons and young offender institutions since 2003. We see the destructive effects on people of living within our overstretched, under-resourced criminal justice system. We want to understand how people can be better supported before, during and after their contact with the criminal justice system.  We have commissioned a series of blogs from a range of experts, including those with lived experience and their families. Every Thursday for the next four months, we will bring a different voice with their own unique perspective and ideas. At the end of the series we will publish a report drawing together the themes and recommendations.

No. 11 in our blog series exploring creative approaches to transforming the criminal justice system.

Author: Bruce Houlder, CB QC and Founder of Fighting Knife Crime London

It is Everyone’s Responsibility to help a Lost Generation of Young People

I have practised criminal law in Greater London and the South-East in a working life spanning 51 years, as a barrister, QC, and judge.  I have witnessed at first hand the stories of those whose young lives have been damaged, mostly through no fault of their own. The consequence too often is that they went on themselves to damage the lives of others.

We all know the pattern. There has always been something missing and often profoundly sad about the way these young lives, once full of hope, end by being cruelly degraded by circumstances beyond their control. It might be through a failure of family support, environmental conditions, poor educational opportunity, poverty of mind and spirit, often exacerbated by domestic violence, drug or alcohol abuse, and even sexual abuse.

Some stories are quite beyond our imagination, and they demand some positive action from every one of us.

My professional career, at one time or other, has led me to be the defender of such disadvantaged young people, their prosecutor, and to be their sentencer once convicted. The criminal justice system sits at the end of the line. It steps in only when others have failed. It is rarely an answer, or even capable of producing one, although sometimes we are too ready to speak of the failure of the criminal justice system.

The failures elsewhere are more likely candidates for attention.

Custodial institutions, especially for the young, and despite the best efforts of those that work within them, can claw them deeper into trouble. They often damage young lives further by being unable to offer rehabilitative and life improving solutions to correct the damage already done. Creative alternatives to prison are famously starved of resources, and press comment on new sentencing approaches are too often populist in approach, uninformed, and lacking in nuance.

Young offenders are seen as irredeemable problems, rather than lives that have been failed by others, and in need of restoration.

It is a massive indictment of government imagination, over all recent administrations, and poor investment decisions. Governments have failed to remember that their duty and responsibility is to improve the lives of the next generation, and to protect young children and all young people from avoidable harms, and they fail to act sufficiently on informed reports even from their own departments.

Many, and I include myself, have become tired of the shallow camouflage of political excuse making. This lack of faith in our political institutions is far from healthy. So, we must also support those good men and women that are genuinely trying to bring about change, and to expose those who hide behind poor excuses.

The only thing that matters is the way we live, our active humanity, and how much we decide to improve the lives of all those around us.

It was with this in mind, and at the age of 73 (it is never too late) that I started a new online project Fighting Knife Crime London designed to bring together all organisations in a collaborative online space, who were already working to improve the lives of our young in Greater London.

It is a multi-facetted website. It is a news area and directory to promote innovative change, a magazine, and a resource for communication and collaboration. We use film and video, and the power of social media to raise awareness, and to help the young, their families and friends find solutions. Our directory of organisations too is highly accessible and links directly to the solutions that you might need to know about.

We also include a database of reports, studies and statistics for those who wish to understand the problem at a deeper level. Reading many of these may well leave you asking why so little has actually been implemented effectively. The website is a resource for those who need help and for those who want to help, but don’t know how.

Please spread the word. Lives can be changed simply by a single act of kindness and compassion.

Our news area is a free resource where you can share thoughtful solutions, and advertise upcoming events or programmes (so long as these are relevant to the stated aims of Fighting Knife Crime London).

If you do one thing today after looking at this website, ask yourself what you can do to help – or write to someone else to encourage them to do something too. You will be amazed how change happens sometimes through a single word.

So, create these ‘Good Vibrations’. Act positively and with clarity in finding a solution, however small. The vibrations will spread I can assure you.

I have served on too many committees and attended too many seminars in my time in the law, discussing legal and process reforms. I have heard accounts of the capacity of humans to abuse or damage others, which might make your hair stand on end. These might be in the sanitised atmosphere of a courtroom, or in the privacy of a prison cell, or through the testimony of witnesses, and victims, and sometimes the falsely accused. Sometimes immersion in such process can lead to a sense of detachment from the realities that they are designed to meet. Victims of crime have needs which we have to address, but so many may never have become victims at all had we concentrated more fully on our children’s early years, and invested in their future.

Could we all just stop for a moment to truly see the world we have created for our young people?

We have excluded whole swathes of our young people from a real pathway to hope, denied them places to go, failed to train those who could have helped them, closed the places where they want to be, and failed to build real state of the art centres to inspire. These could be places to make music, to sing, to perform, to play sport, to laugh and to love. Places where young people want to be, to find help, to restore their mental health, to find friendship and the self-confidence that our next generation are going to need.

I have presented a bleak picture, because the problem is so serious. But building this website has given me hope.

Those I have spoken to have, in some cases, spent much of their lives trying to promote change through positive action. Our website is full of examples.

The selfless collaboration of like-minded citizens has changed many lives through the work they do with young people in communities all over London. They understand that it is the task of every one of us to bring about this change, and if we do, then politicians will respond to that noise, provided it is sustained and loud enough to hear.

Who are these people? They are the employers who come together to offer training and employment to disadvantaged or excluded young; the workers and leaders in local government who truly care; the young men and women who work with the fearful young, or with young gang members; the mentors who work one-to-one with those that need help; those that give their time each week to raise the lives of others to a better future. Theirs is the community of talents that should make us all proud.

If every one of us does our bit, together we can make change.

So, find an organisation where you can offer your talents, even if it is just a listening ear. You may be surprised what that can lead to. Many of you do this already, but if not, please give some time to it. You will, I promise, be surprised how much your own life might be changed as well.

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Good Vibrations has worked in prisons and young offender institutions since 2003. We see the destructive effects on people of living within our overstretched, under-resourced criminal justice system. We want to understand how people can be better supported before, during and after their contact with the criminal justice system.  We have commissioned a series of blogs from a range of experts, including those with lived experience and their families. Every Thursday for the next four months, we will bring a different voice with their own unique perspective and ideas. At the end of the series we will publish a report drawing together the themes and recommendations.

No. 10 in our blog series exploring creative approaches to transforming the criminal justice system.

Author: Laura Caulfield, researcher in forensic psychology and criminal justice

This year marks my twentieth year working as a researcher in forensic psychology and criminal justice. Reaching this milestone prompted me to reflect on my journey so far, how I got here, what I’ve learnt, and also to think about what the future might hold.

In 2001 I began my career as an academic conducting research into traditional programmes in the criminal justice system. I was applying my knowledge of psychology and research methods to measuring whether rehabilitation programmes were effective. Most of my work involved conducting quantitative analysis of large-scale datasets to ask questions like ‘do Offending Behaviour Programmes reduce risk of reoffending?’. While the research was interesting and valuable, I began to realise that there are issues with a ‘one size fits all’ approach and that some people in prisons and serving community sentences are just not ready – or not yet able – to engage with standard programmes and education.

Fast forward to 2007 and a colleague asked if I would be interested in applying the methods I used to measure accredited programmes to evaluating a music programme in prisons. I’ll admit that I felt sceptical, because I’d only ever thought about addressing formal risk factors in prisons, and it wasn’t immediately obvious to me how a music project could have an impact on prisoners. However, as a researcher, starting from a sceptical position can be a good thing and being curious is central to this line of work.

The project I’d been asked to evaluate was run by Good Vibrations and I embarked on a steep learning curve. I spent time in prisons with participants on week-long courses and I observed as groups of prisoners, many of whom were unknown to one another, came together with a Good Vibrations facilitator. I watched as over the course of a week they learnt about Gamelan, learnt how to play and compose, and at the end of the week performed a concert to peers, prison staff, and external visitors. What struck me most was not the musical skills they developed and the impressive nature of the performance, but what happened to individuals and the group as the week progressed. The research told me lots of things and the key messages were: participants developed social and communication skills, which is important to solve problems, talk things out, and reduces the risk of arguing and aggression. Participants were calmer, which is good for health and wellbeing as well as reducing violence and aggression. Participating also acted as a stepping-stone into formal programmes and education for some prisoners, through building confidence and learning that they could achieve.

Those first projects with Good Vibrations have stayed with me. I have had some really amazing experiences seeing people engage, connect, and be inspired. That research led on to working with numerous arts projects and organisations, including the Irene Taylor Trust (music), the Artist in Residence at HMP Grendon (a Therapeutic Community prison), Rideout (who work with range of creative arts, often drama-based), Birmingham Youth Offending Service music project, Sandwell Youth Offending Service (their innovative service wide creative approach), London College of Fashion and their Making for Change (fashion design & manufacturing) inititative with women in prison, and the Centre for Design Against Crime and their work redesigning cell furniture. I’ve been closely involved with the National Criminal Justice Arts Alliance (NCJAA) in the UK, and the US-based South West Correctional Arts Network (SCAN). Overall, what I’ve been working on is developing the evidence base around the arts in criminal justice and trialling robust methods.

Over the last decade, the role of the arts, culture and creativity in criminal justice has been of increasing interest to policymakers, practitioners, the criminal justice system and researchers. In 2019, the UK Department for Culture, Media, and Sport Commons Select Committee acknowledged the ‘impact of culture … on positive outcomes in health, education, criminal justice’. There is now substantial evidence of the impact of the arts in criminal justice: indeed, between the United Kingdom and the United States, there are over 160 research studies. In 2012, the NCJAA launched the Evidence Library, ‘an online library, housing the key research and evaluation documents on the impact of arts-based projects, programmes and interventions within the Criminal Justice System’. (NCJAA, 2019c). Other countries have followed the Evidence Library initiative, setting up their own resources. See, for example, the Prison Arts Resource Project, which ‘is an online library of evidence-based research into U.S. correctional arts programs’ (PARP, 2019).

My own contribution to the evidence has involved working with a variety of art forms across the prison estate, with young people serving community sentences, and with people leaving prison and re-entering the community. Most recently, and in response to some earlier criticisms of research in this area, I published a study that really sought to push the evidence base forward. Working with girls and boys taking part in a music programme run by a Youth Offending Service (YOS) and analysing data that the YOS collects, we found that children who completed the music programme were more likely than a comparison group to engage with the YOS, and showed were statistically significant improvements in well-being and musical ability over the course of the project. The children talked to us about how safe they felt, how their confidence was growing, and about the new positive relationships they had formed.

There is more to uncover and investigate but the value and impact of the arts is clear. At this point in my research journey it is my doctoral students whose work I am inspired by. One of my doctoral students has just completed research to help us understand more about some of the amazing people who deliver creative writing programmes in prison. Another is working to understand the training processes for actors working in prisons. Understanding more about creative practitioners and the relationships built in the spaces created through the arts will help us all keep learning and developing research and practice in the criminal justice system.

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Good Vibrations has worked in prisons and young offender institutions since 2003. We see the destructive effects on people of living within our overstretched, under-resourced criminal justice system. We want to understand how people can be better supported before, during and after their contact with the criminal justice system.  We have commissioned a series of blogs from a range of experts, including those with lived experience and their families. Every Thursday for the next four months, we will bring a different voice with their own unique perspective and ideas. At the end of the series we will publish a report drawing together the themes and recommendations.

No. 7 in our blog series exploring creative approaches to transforming the criminal justice system.

Author: Alison Frater, Co-Chair of Clean Break

How do we halt the vicious cycle of crime?

On the face of it a question about halting the vicious cycle of crime requires an answer about prevention. We need to identify what it is about our society, individuals, families and communities that creates crimes then we’d know what to do to stop it, wouldn’t we?

Examining the question more closely and especially through the lens of women’s incarceration, an area I know best (though the issues are not unique to women), I see that the author is asking a better question. It’s not the crime in this sentence that’s vicious it’s the cycle. The questioner already knows that the causes of crime are well evidenced, properly researched, findings are validated. What they want is the answer to why it goes round and round. Who on earth is responsible for this malign scrolling recurring endlessly to the detriment of perpetrator and victim – a false dichotomy for women by the way. And what, in this past, present and never-ending future, can we do to stop it.

Observing moribund, going nowhere social policy is a bit of an occupational hazard in my chosen career of pubic health. But, the repeated failure of successive governments to deliver the widely supported policy objective of reducing women’s incarceration has few precedents. The neglect of need, the un-reason, the wasted investment on interventions with evidence to the contrary sinks to a new low of moral and fiscal incoherence. Still being sentenced to imprisonment for minor crime, first offences, debt, problems arising from drug and alcohol issues, they lose their jobs, their housing, their children. Failed again and again women are forced to relive their trauma through endless public enquiries. Children, families and communities are left to roll around in a badly led, courage missing, policy churn.

Shifting your stare from the relentless pursuit of change through political influencing takes a lot for a hardened public health consultant. I’ve had to get over my disbelief  – my own vicious cycle – that surely this latest piece of research or this reshuffled administration or new Secretary of State will make the difference. For me, release, stepping out of the miserable vortex came from six years of joyous chairing of the National Criminal Justice Arts Alliance.

Arts organisations don’t like to see themselves in the role of social reformers. They argue about the intrinsic value of the arts, the complexity of emotional enrichment. They don’t deny art’s transforming power but they worry that it will be diminished if pressed to the wheel of social reform. And well they might.

But for me the reveal is that the arts explain the cause of crime but also the consequences of criminalisation. They hold a mirror to society in a way that refracts its more bewildering behaviour. What you get is a way of seeing, a visible light.

Public sector organisations are now required to deliver social impact. Increasingly they’re turning to the organisations in the NCJ Arts Alliance for inspiration. What they find are cultural leaders who deliver change because they put people’s needs at the core of their work.

I co-chair Clean Break, a theatre company that provides access to creativity for women affected by the criminal justice system. From its origins 40 years ago, the founders established and worked with sister organisations who could offer help with housing, health, employment, education, social care. Clean Break delivers, mentoring, writing and theatre workshops, dramaturgy but also friendship and community. It stands with its members tackling discrimination, racism and poverty. It sees that meeting physical and mental health needs drives out the stifling impact of inequalities, frees lives, enables unique and wonderful, inspiring expression.

When Clean Break presents productions (and don’t miss the Summer Season 2021) increasingly to new audiences in full houses or on packed screens, it finds a society that hasn’t given up on women, but one that’s giving up on leaders who continue to condemn the vulnerable to vicious cycles.

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Good Vibrations has worked in prisons and young offender institutions since 2003. We see the destructive effects on people of living within our overstretched, under-resourced criminal justice system. We want to understand how people can be better supported before, during and after their contact with the criminal justice system.  We have commissioned a series of blogs from a range of experts, including those with lived experience and their families. Every Thursday for the next four months, we will bring a different voice with their own unique perspective and ideas. At the end of the series we will publish a report drawing together the themes and recommendations.