Ok yes they have made a mistake but are now in a position where essentially they have no rights at all and are being dealt with by an unprofessional incompetent shower of SH** (CRCs I mean). Imagine you actually wanted a bit of rehabilitation, do you think you are going to get it = NO. Or just wanted to comply with the terms of your order = NO, no you can't sonny Jim oh no not so fast, its not as easy as that.
So most are left in a swirl of not knowing what the hell is going on being blamed/threatened left right n centre if they don't do something that the privateering CRCs can invoice or tick box. Would you fancy that? A situation where everything you were told is a lie? To be honest, if it were a choice of that or a few weeks in an open prison I think jail would be easier. Easier to get it done and out the way rather than face months of what is effectively a kind of pervasive bullying and harassment. OK, (if you are still reading), I imagine not much sympathy coming through (cough) but for some who wish to take responsibility and move on positively its not easy when you have a parasite cloud following you around."
The above came in the other day and I think provides a nice lead-in to the following hearfelt piece I saw over on The Tartan Con blogsite, re-published here with permission:-
The Mind is a Dangerous Place
Firstly, thank you all for your interest in my writing this blog. It will not be easy, and I ask that you forgive me for the typographical errors that will surely follow. Those of you that know me will understand. Those that do not, I don’t intend to go into the “whys”, “how’s”, “whatever’s” and “how’s your fathers”; save to say that I write from the heart and with passion. Sometimes my mind moves faster than the moving of my hands. I will record this in case what I say does not come out with the intention that it will be written.
Over the last two years, I have ranted, pleaded and bled for better care for those in custody. I am an emotional Scot and I say what I think. I get angry because I do not know any other way to show my emotion. I have lived with those in custody and have seen the deterioration of mental health of those in our jails. I use humour to try and get my point across. I post quotations on twitter that serve to make you smile but to hopefully think. I write my rants and put them out there not for glory but for you to think, to ponder. You; who have no direct experience of jail. You, who work in the Criminal Justice system, whether you be defenders or prosecutors of those indicted. Whether you judge the guilt or innocence of them or care for them whilst they be incarcerated. I write also for those that work with prisoners once they leave prison. I write for those who campaign to change the system, to rebel against the dreadful thing that is our prison system. I write for my fellow prisoners whether they be in the community or still be incarcerated. But most of all, my dear reader, I write for myself. It’s how I express myself best. When I need to vent. When my mind does that moving faster than the moving of my lips thing, I write. I punch at the keys on my keyboard and I feel my passion flow from my finger-tips. Explaining things that I find, oh so very, difficult to speak these days.
Something happened to me last weekend and it had me thinking if my thoughts were “normal.” So, I asked you if you would be interested in delving into the mind of an ex-prisoner. You were thunderous in your reply. I promise to be open and frank. What I say may not be fluid, it will move from topic to topic but it will be honest. I hope that it gives you an insight into how I think. This is personal, I cannot speak for my fellow prisoners and I would not be so egotistical to tell you how someone else feels. I cannot tell you that what I feel anyone else does, but perhaps you can take some generic advice from what I say.
After the longest introduction in history, here goes.
What goes on in the mind of an ex-prisoner?
A while ago I was sitting in a coffee shop in the outskirts of London. I was upstairs sipping my coffee and chatting. All of a sudden out of the corner of my eye I saw 4 policemen coming up the stairs. My heart skipped a beat. Then it beat faster. The roof of my mouth went dry and I started to get very hot. I was about to stand up and say, “If you are looking for me, then here I am.” No, I had not done anything wrong, I had committed no crime and there would be no earthly reason why the police would be looking for me. But I was convinced they were there for me. They were not; they ordered their coffees, paid for them and left.
Just last weekend, I went to use my cash card, it was refused. Those muggles amongst you would automatically have thought, has someone cloned my card or something just as normal. Me? I thought “Have they closed my account because I am ex prisoner?” “Have the authorities written to the bank telling them of my past?” Answer: my card had indeed been cloned and the bank stopped it to HELP me!
These are just two examples of what goes on in my mind. I could regale you with a hundred more. The missed call when someone doesn’t leave a message or even worse the number comes up “un-known.”
I presently work in the criminal justice system, I work in prisons. I spend my time going back into the places that I so desperately wanted to get out of. I enjoy it, I feel at ease when talking to the prisoners. I am at my less guarded. I may wear a suit but as soon as I tell them about my past, the barriers come down and I am welcomed with open arms. These people don’t care about my past, they accept me for who I am. They understand that I spend my time trying to make things slightly better for them and their fellow prisoners. I feel “at home” when in a prison, is that wrong? But here’s the thing. I rely on people working WITH me. I can’t do everything that I want to without their help. I doubt you can imagine what goes through my head when they don’t get back to me. They don’t answer an email, they don’t return a call or such like.
When the phone call doesn’t come or the email doesn’t arrive, my worry goes into over drive. Is it something I have done wrong? Have they decided not to deal with me because of my past? I expect the phone call to come and say, “Listen Tartan Con, we just can’t work with you”. Worst, perhaps they just won’t bother calling me back.
They don’t think anything of their actions and nor should they. After all they don’t always remember that they are dealing with someone who has lived with the fear of the unknown when being “behind a door.” It’s “The Tartan Con” they say, “I will get back to him later.” I should be able to handle it, I am a grown man of some (albeit limited) intelligence.
But here’s the thing. I can’t. I live with paranoia.
I didn’t have this before. It’s something that has followed me since my days in prison. The sound of keys jangling at the door. The sound of many pairs of feet walking down the landing and stopping outside my cell. It’s the search carried out for no other reason than my cell number came up. It’s the not being unlocked on time or hearing your name coming over the speaker to be called to the wing office. It’s the presuming the worst will happen.
Carry those thoughts on for 4 years and paranoia soon becomes the default emotion to which to turn.
In prison, one is forced to hide one’s own true emotions. We don’t show our feelings lest it be seen to be a sign of weakness. The smallest of jibes from a staff member will cut through us like a hot knife through butter. We build them up over a lengthened period of time. Sometimes they explode and we get the incidents we see all too frequently.
I left prison, a worried soul. I was told all too frequently “you’ll be alright, Tartan Con. Prison was an inconvenience for you, we couldn’t teach you anything. Good luck” You were wrong! You taught me how to be scared of my shadow. You taught me how to suffer in silence. You taught me how not to show my true feelings to anyone. You left me with a feeling of lack of self-worth that has me questioning my very existence on a daily basis. You selfish bastards. I shall never forgive you.
I left prison like a deer stuck in the headlights. I came home after so many years and felt like a stranger in my own house. I asked and still do if I could make a cup of tea. I ask, “where does this go?” (I still do this). I apologise for everything as everything must be my fault. After all it was when I was in prison.
I am impatient. I want answers now and I panic if they don’t come.
To all solicitors that are reading this; do me a favour; if you say to your client that you will write to them or visit them. DO IT! I know you think that after your client is sent down that you end your work. You don’t. Your client is just about to start their journey [I hate that word, don’t you?]. Prison is a terribly lonely place to be and sometimes you are the only contact they have with the outside world. Do not forget them. Even if it is 5 minutes out of your day to send a letter or email. You have no idea how devastated your client will be if you just forget them.
I am far more resigned now than I have ever been. I just presume that nothing good can ever happen. I live in sadness.
I am not a person that has ever had someone that I can call a true friend. I prefer my own company to that of others. It was just my make-up and prison isn’t to blame for that. But it is to blame for the state of my mind now. I live to please others and not myself as that is how one gets through one’s sentence. Make sure the staff are happy and like you and your life will be easier. Tell them what they want to hear not what’s in your heart; that’s the way. I am a product of a system that destroys you when you are at the weakest point of your life, but it doesn’t rebuild you. In prison, we all wanted that “positive entry" on the prison record. I still crave that recognition. It isn’t because I need the glory, it is just that when it all goes wrong in life, I will have something with which to prove my worth. Someone, recently was telling me about a person who was released on a life licence. They said, “he’s damaged”. What an aberration of a statement to make! But then I thought, aren’t we all damaged?
The smallest thing you say to me can trigger me off onto a spiral that only goes downward. A person with whom I have a decent working relationship said to me recently, that they were speaking to a leading criminologist about me. Now put aside the thoughts I had about someone talking about me; this criminologist asked what I was jailed for. When told; he replied, “Oh we don’t treat them as real criminals.” I laughed but was hurt. Not because this oxygen thief decided to decry me but rather they discarded me as someone not worthy of their attention.
I have a condition that has a side effect of depression. I can sit on my own and just feel the wave of desolation come over me like a cloud of despair. I try to manage it but the simplest thing will set me off. The tears will flow like Niagara Falls on a damp day. Add that onto the paranoid feelings, the feeling of utter uselessness and you get the idea.
So be cognisant of what and how you talk to someone who has served a jail sentence. What you may think is jocular can have the adverse effect. Don’t joke with me about my prison sentence, it wasn’t funny. Don’t joke about the circumstances that drove me to be there, I have tried to overcome those. Do understand that I am not the person that you have heard about. That is the old Tartan Con and I have nothing in common with him anymore. Do give me the benefit of the doubt. Do treat me as an equal. I may talk about the fact that I am an ex-prisoner, it doesn’t mean that you get to. I am a work in progress.
To those Governors, Prison Officers, front line staff that work in prisons; please I beg of you, take what I say seriously. Be careful what you say to ex-prisoners. We are indeed a damaged bunch. We will read into everything you say. We will presume that there is an underlying current in everything you talk to us about. We will presume that you are waiting for us to “revert to type.” I know that you wish us well, I know that you care, I know that you “try” not to judge us on our past. But every now and then you will say “you know he is an ex-prisoner” and there you go. You have just done the very thing that you told us you would never do. I have found that so many of you are caring individuals, people who want to make a change but I also find that a lot of you “revert to type” when talking about a group of prisoners. You may like the individual but you still have your ingrained ideas about us. I have witnessed your “reversion” first hand and it upsets me. It doesn’t make me angry, just disappointed in you. You are better than that.
Look I don’t want or need your pity, none of the former prisoners that I know do. What we want, what we need you to understand is what the system has done to us. It has damaged us, but not beyond repair. We ask that you treat us exactly the same as you would any other individual. Just take into consideration, what your actions will have on us before you undertake them. There is a phrase that every action has a positive and negative reaction. Think of what that negative reaction would be, before acting.
It’s difficult, isn’t it? I am asking you to tread carefully in one breath and then the next, I am asking you to treat us as you would any other. But hey that’s life, isn’t it? No-one said it was going to be easy.
Of course, this is just my opinion, I could be wrong.
The Tartan Con
The Mind is a Dangerous Place
Firstly, thank you all for your interest in my writing this blog. It will not be easy, and I ask that you forgive me for the typographical errors that will surely follow. Those of you that know me will understand. Those that do not, I don’t intend to go into the “whys”, “how’s”, “whatever’s” and “how’s your fathers”; save to say that I write from the heart and with passion. Sometimes my mind moves faster than the moving of my hands. I will record this in case what I say does not come out with the intention that it will be written.
Over the last two years, I have ranted, pleaded and bled for better care for those in custody. I am an emotional Scot and I say what I think. I get angry because I do not know any other way to show my emotion. I have lived with those in custody and have seen the deterioration of mental health of those in our jails. I use humour to try and get my point across. I post quotations on twitter that serve to make you smile but to hopefully think. I write my rants and put them out there not for glory but for you to think, to ponder. You; who have no direct experience of jail. You, who work in the Criminal Justice system, whether you be defenders or prosecutors of those indicted. Whether you judge the guilt or innocence of them or care for them whilst they be incarcerated. I write also for those that work with prisoners once they leave prison. I write for those who campaign to change the system, to rebel against the dreadful thing that is our prison system. I write for my fellow prisoners whether they be in the community or still be incarcerated. But most of all, my dear reader, I write for myself. It’s how I express myself best. When I need to vent. When my mind does that moving faster than the moving of my lips thing, I write. I punch at the keys on my keyboard and I feel my passion flow from my finger-tips. Explaining things that I find, oh so very, difficult to speak these days.
Something happened to me last weekend and it had me thinking if my thoughts were “normal.” So, I asked you if you would be interested in delving into the mind of an ex-prisoner. You were thunderous in your reply. I promise to be open and frank. What I say may not be fluid, it will move from topic to topic but it will be honest. I hope that it gives you an insight into how I think. This is personal, I cannot speak for my fellow prisoners and I would not be so egotistical to tell you how someone else feels. I cannot tell you that what I feel anyone else does, but perhaps you can take some generic advice from what I say.
After the longest introduction in history, here goes.
What goes on in the mind of an ex-prisoner?
A while ago I was sitting in a coffee shop in the outskirts of London. I was upstairs sipping my coffee and chatting. All of a sudden out of the corner of my eye I saw 4 policemen coming up the stairs. My heart skipped a beat. Then it beat faster. The roof of my mouth went dry and I started to get very hot. I was about to stand up and say, “If you are looking for me, then here I am.” No, I had not done anything wrong, I had committed no crime and there would be no earthly reason why the police would be looking for me. But I was convinced they were there for me. They were not; they ordered their coffees, paid for them and left.
Just last weekend, I went to use my cash card, it was refused. Those muggles amongst you would automatically have thought, has someone cloned my card or something just as normal. Me? I thought “Have they closed my account because I am ex prisoner?” “Have the authorities written to the bank telling them of my past?” Answer: my card had indeed been cloned and the bank stopped it to HELP me!
These are just two examples of what goes on in my mind. I could regale you with a hundred more. The missed call when someone doesn’t leave a message or even worse the number comes up “un-known.”
I presently work in the criminal justice system, I work in prisons. I spend my time going back into the places that I so desperately wanted to get out of. I enjoy it, I feel at ease when talking to the prisoners. I am at my less guarded. I may wear a suit but as soon as I tell them about my past, the barriers come down and I am welcomed with open arms. These people don’t care about my past, they accept me for who I am. They understand that I spend my time trying to make things slightly better for them and their fellow prisoners. I feel “at home” when in a prison, is that wrong? But here’s the thing. I rely on people working WITH me. I can’t do everything that I want to without their help. I doubt you can imagine what goes through my head when they don’t get back to me. They don’t answer an email, they don’t return a call or such like.
When the phone call doesn’t come or the email doesn’t arrive, my worry goes into over drive. Is it something I have done wrong? Have they decided not to deal with me because of my past? I expect the phone call to come and say, “Listen Tartan Con, we just can’t work with you”. Worst, perhaps they just won’t bother calling me back.
They don’t think anything of their actions and nor should they. After all they don’t always remember that they are dealing with someone who has lived with the fear of the unknown when being “behind a door.” It’s “The Tartan Con” they say, “I will get back to him later.” I should be able to handle it, I am a grown man of some (albeit limited) intelligence.
But here’s the thing. I can’t. I live with paranoia.
I didn’t have this before. It’s something that has followed me since my days in prison. The sound of keys jangling at the door. The sound of many pairs of feet walking down the landing and stopping outside my cell. It’s the search carried out for no other reason than my cell number came up. It’s the not being unlocked on time or hearing your name coming over the speaker to be called to the wing office. It’s the presuming the worst will happen.
Carry those thoughts on for 4 years and paranoia soon becomes the default emotion to which to turn.
In prison, one is forced to hide one’s own true emotions. We don’t show our feelings lest it be seen to be a sign of weakness. The smallest of jibes from a staff member will cut through us like a hot knife through butter. We build them up over a lengthened period of time. Sometimes they explode and we get the incidents we see all too frequently.
I left prison, a worried soul. I was told all too frequently “you’ll be alright, Tartan Con. Prison was an inconvenience for you, we couldn’t teach you anything. Good luck” You were wrong! You taught me how to be scared of my shadow. You taught me how to suffer in silence. You taught me how not to show my true feelings to anyone. You left me with a feeling of lack of self-worth that has me questioning my very existence on a daily basis. You selfish bastards. I shall never forgive you.
I left prison like a deer stuck in the headlights. I came home after so many years and felt like a stranger in my own house. I asked and still do if I could make a cup of tea. I ask, “where does this go?” (I still do this). I apologise for everything as everything must be my fault. After all it was when I was in prison.
I am impatient. I want answers now and I panic if they don’t come.
To all solicitors that are reading this; do me a favour; if you say to your client that you will write to them or visit them. DO IT! I know you think that after your client is sent down that you end your work. You don’t. Your client is just about to start their journey [I hate that word, don’t you?]. Prison is a terribly lonely place to be and sometimes you are the only contact they have with the outside world. Do not forget them. Even if it is 5 minutes out of your day to send a letter or email. You have no idea how devastated your client will be if you just forget them.
I am far more resigned now than I have ever been. I just presume that nothing good can ever happen. I live in sadness.
I am not a person that has ever had someone that I can call a true friend. I prefer my own company to that of others. It was just my make-up and prison isn’t to blame for that. But it is to blame for the state of my mind now. I live to please others and not myself as that is how one gets through one’s sentence. Make sure the staff are happy and like you and your life will be easier. Tell them what they want to hear not what’s in your heart; that’s the way. I am a product of a system that destroys you when you are at the weakest point of your life, but it doesn’t rebuild you. In prison, we all wanted that “positive entry" on the prison record. I still crave that recognition. It isn’t because I need the glory, it is just that when it all goes wrong in life, I will have something with which to prove my worth. Someone, recently was telling me about a person who was released on a life licence. They said, “he’s damaged”. What an aberration of a statement to make! But then I thought, aren’t we all damaged?
The smallest thing you say to me can trigger me off onto a spiral that only goes downward. A person with whom I have a decent working relationship said to me recently, that they were speaking to a leading criminologist about me. Now put aside the thoughts I had about someone talking about me; this criminologist asked what I was jailed for. When told; he replied, “Oh we don’t treat them as real criminals.” I laughed but was hurt. Not because this oxygen thief decided to decry me but rather they discarded me as someone not worthy of their attention.
I have a condition that has a side effect of depression. I can sit on my own and just feel the wave of desolation come over me like a cloud of despair. I try to manage it but the simplest thing will set me off. The tears will flow like Niagara Falls on a damp day. Add that onto the paranoid feelings, the feeling of utter uselessness and you get the idea.
So be cognisant of what and how you talk to someone who has served a jail sentence. What you may think is jocular can have the adverse effect. Don’t joke with me about my prison sentence, it wasn’t funny. Don’t joke about the circumstances that drove me to be there, I have tried to overcome those. Do understand that I am not the person that you have heard about. That is the old Tartan Con and I have nothing in common with him anymore. Do give me the benefit of the doubt. Do treat me as an equal. I may talk about the fact that I am an ex-prisoner, it doesn’t mean that you get to. I am a work in progress.
To those Governors, Prison Officers, front line staff that work in prisons; please I beg of you, take what I say seriously. Be careful what you say to ex-prisoners. We are indeed a damaged bunch. We will read into everything you say. We will presume that there is an underlying current in everything you talk to us about. We will presume that you are waiting for us to “revert to type.” I know that you wish us well, I know that you care, I know that you “try” not to judge us on our past. But every now and then you will say “you know he is an ex-prisoner” and there you go. You have just done the very thing that you told us you would never do. I have found that so many of you are caring individuals, people who want to make a change but I also find that a lot of you “revert to type” when talking about a group of prisoners. You may like the individual but you still have your ingrained ideas about us. I have witnessed your “reversion” first hand and it upsets me. It doesn’t make me angry, just disappointed in you. You are better than that.
Look I don’t want or need your pity, none of the former prisoners that I know do. What we want, what we need you to understand is what the system has done to us. It has damaged us, but not beyond repair. We ask that you treat us exactly the same as you would any other individual. Just take into consideration, what your actions will have on us before you undertake them. There is a phrase that every action has a positive and negative reaction. Think of what that negative reaction would be, before acting.
It’s difficult, isn’t it? I am asking you to tread carefully in one breath and then the next, I am asking you to treat us as you would any other. But hey that’s life, isn’t it? No-one said it was going to be easy.
Of course, this is just my opinion, I could be wrong.
The Tartan Con
Well worth the read. Thanks to Tartan Con for writing & this blog for republishing.
ReplyDeleteIf only Damian Green, Boris Johnson, Michael Gove, Chris Grayling, Theresa May, David Davis, etc etc etc had the same capacity for humility, honesty & humanity.
ReplyDeleteInteresting that when I wrote about my experience of being on probation not that long ago on this blog as a guest post, the number of current practitioners who had the knives out and claimed not to recognise my experience was astounding. I note with interest that those who had the knives out for me haven't yet gone for the Tartan Con or the other poster Jim referred to at the top of the post despite the posts being just as critical of those practitioners as I was
ReplyDeleteOur experiences of life on probation are just as valid as the experiences of the practitioners suffering under TR yet so many of you seem to dismiss our experiences completely which, quite frankly, leads me to suspect that you are not in the right job. People in prison are human beings. People on probation are human beings. Anyone can end up in prison on probation with the right set of circumstances behind them so you need to be a lot more considerate and careful about those under your supervision because you add immeasurably to the damage the system causes to those at its mercy when you dismiss us and our experiences.
And before any of you start whingeing about shouldn't have done the crime if you can't deal with the time etc, what about the staggering number of people who end up being convicted of a crime they didn't do? It could happen to you tomorrow. So treat people as you would wish to be treated were you in their shoes. Many prison and probation officers are just as callous and lacking in humanity as the politicians mentioned in the comment above.
I'm a PO and I agree that there is bad practice but don't judge us all to be the same as you ask us to do
DeleteI've had 5 PO's on the outside both inside prison and whilst on licence and 4 different ones on the inside. And only one of them was what I would call a good PO who actually gave a damn, did what she said she would when she said she would and who treated me as a human being. Whilst I do not wish to tar all with the same brush, and I am sure there are really good PO's out there, my personal experience is that the majority leave a LOT to be desired. Other people I knew whilst inside have also had the same sort of experiences which suggests that the bad outweigh the good all over the country. Yes it's not a scientific analysis but if so many of us who come from all walks of life and educational and social backgrounds experience the same issues it strongly suggests the issues lie within probation
DeleteHere is the modern experience of the best practices of probation. It is why we are all suffering Working Links again. They are the detritus of any services to offenders . The free falling care less approach from contract holder we have come to know.
Deletehttp://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-41853781?ns_mchannel=social&ns_campaign=bbc_england&ns_source=twitter&ns_linkname=english_regions
I am a CRC PO still practicing, just. About to walk. I remember when the oasys system first started. "Offender" this and "offender" that, page up and page down. These questions we had to answer and how they were phrased, filling in that long assessment forced me to think about someone in a particular way which frankly I had never done before. A whole person's being compartmentalised into 13 aspects with no real thought as to how one would impact on another. The person we are assessing becomes objectified, scrutinised, a subject of "scientific" (not) analysis. Risk of harm and reoffending expressed in percentages. Oasys is still being used as a "backbone" of our practice , managers love it, the quality of our practice is being measured by it, many practitioners took and still take great pride in producing a good Oasys. Yes I grant you, doing an oasys assessment does force us to spend time researching the "case". But it also forces us to think of people in a particular way, and may I suggest that way can very heavily militate against our seeing that person in front of us as just that. A person full stop. No better and no worse than me.
DeleteOddly enough though we are frowned upon now when we talk about offenders the computer system templates are all littered with the term. I defy anyone to find any template using the term service user. So lip service is paid, but it has yet to penetrate to the bureaucratic heart of the company . (There is no other heart aside from the money and the bureaucracy, I've searched). What do you think of the term service user anyway, Tartan Con and 10.24? Is it a misleading name? What service is provided ? And if a service is provided who is it for? I spent years doing oasys and all the other irrelevant probation exercises with my left hand while at the same time doing what I considered to be "the real work" with my right. And I consider I have learnt a great deal from those "clients/offenders/service users/ people" I have had the privilege of working with. My experience can never be theirs and I dare say I have put my foot in my mouth on many occasions out of ignorance and perhaps out of arrogance. For which when it comes to my notice I apologise. I do care intensely. But I have also wanted to be effective. To see progress and hope and freedom. To see an outcome we can all live with.
Hello 10:24
DeleteI'd be interested to read your guest piece if you give me the link or mth/yr it appeared cheers.
I wouldn't be too perturbed by those who got their knives out n sniped, they show themselves for what they are, I.E. people who haven't quite twigged what their job is supposed to be about. The power crazed nature of some who use their self assumed 'status' to put them beyond reproach never attain much levels of respect or if they do it all comes crashing down in the end when they are laid off an noone wants to employ them. Thats when they realise they were not 'quite' as fantastic and indispensable as they thought.
At university I had a couple of hallmates who were doing a 1/2yr course in social work (some sort of cobbled together fakeass degree). Some of them I guess would have gone towards prisons and probation. But I have to say by god that bunch were the thickest bunch of morons I have ever met (and I have met some Swiss Germans in my time I tell you). I remember thinking this lots will probably go on to do vastly more damage screwing things up that any good they might do, and if they did any good at all it'd probably be by accident.
Thing is alot of peeps are draw towards jobs they see as power based due to insecurity and the need to lord it over others.
I think my Prob officer despises the fact I dont have my head down, break down in tears of regret, oh and am somewhat smart. I will get round to the formal complaint at some stage and when I do I am sure the line manager will be facilitated to take out their own petty grudges come job appraisal time. I know avoiding prison and going to a CRC should be something of a punishment and is very lightweight compared to a prison hellhole but it shouldn't be a kind of mental torture due to the CRCs own sheer incompetence.
I should say I have met 1-3 nice/quite professional staff but they do strike me a old school and 'get it', whereas the younger 'ambitious for all the wrong reasons' types are basically a blockage.
It may well be this one Guest Blog 66 12th August 2017:-
Deletehttp://probationmatters.blogspot.co.uk/2017/08/guest-blog-66.html
Yup that's the puppy
Deletemany thanks, will take a look and comment, thanks for the link Jim.
DeleteI wonder if you would encourage feedback from 'service users' experiences. Or would the usually readers of the blog prefer to keep it to work/union matters?
I guess we all think our experiences are important, especially if in the midst of a shambles thats dictating your life. But I would like to hear abut strategies to be able to protect yourself more effectively.
I know thats sounds a bit subversive but if wanting to just comply with your order I am wondering what my rights are (if any) and what I can refuse or not consent to. Is there a guidance on choices etc
I appreciate that might sound a bit thick but in the absence of any credible information at all.
cheers
In terms of your rights there are the Probation Instructions - similar to Prison Instructions but a lot less known about which set out probations legal obligations to service users. There is also a fair amount of caselaw in respect of offender's rights both in prison and under probation you can search for online. Back issues of Inside Time (available online) can be very helpful in pointing you towards caselaw
DeleteWhen I started as a PO, I had a case load of around low 30s (varied risk levels) and no IT. I hand wrote reports, supervision plans etc and had them typed up by a secretary. Now people have caseloads of 100, all high risk DV, lifers and sex offenders and a shedload of IT issues that require attention. I can see why clients are unhappy with the level of service they get. An optimum caseload for a Child Protection Social Worker is 15. In reality, the caseloads of social workers is nearer 24. What possible chance has a PO with a caseload of 100 got in terms of best practice. I am sympathetic to the plight of the people who speak ill of Probation staff on here although I do not put this down to the 'quality' of the POs themselves. I have heard management defined as 'getting the job done using other people'. The corporate management of Probation (MoJ, NOMS, HMPPS and CRCs) has failed to facilitate the delivery of services to offenders because they have been asked to do the wrong things at the wrong time with the wrong people. The situation will not change until the Probation Service is taken out of the hands of the Prison Service management who, to my mind, have never comprehended the concept of 'Probation', what it can achieve, what it cannot achieve and what systems it needs in order to function effectively. In a nutshell, the wrong people are in charge.
ReplyDelete''In a nutshell, the wrong people are in charge.''
DeleteYes indeed, but I would argue also that alot of the worng people are doing the job of probation officer. And 'because' the staff and thier line managers are all overloaded THEY are getting away with it. maladministration, bad practice, (bullying the service user with threats) all going on in a bad turn a blind eye culture of I'm getting paid so thats enough and if its goes wrong, if theres an issue them blame someone else, cover my back and ultimately blame and take it out of the service user cus it must be their fault.
I think the problem started with Carter. His Reducing Crime, Changing Lives report prompted the joining up of Prisons and Probation and sealed the fate of Probation by putting Prison Management in charge of Probation without acknowledging or understanding the contempt that they had for it (Phil Wheatley was been heard expressing this at a conference in Cambridge shortly after taking on the role, actually asking his management team to keep their lone Probation colleague 'out of the loop' on critical issues). They thought Probation was a waste of time (in a Dail Mail reader sense) and proceeded to manage it accordingly, as they have always managed it in Prisons - with thinly disguised contempt.
ReplyDeletePowerful. "So treat people as you would wish to be treated were you in their shoes." Pretty much what Woolf said, all those years ago.
ReplyDeleteI personally don't think we are scrutinised enough! Good to think we are all caring and professional but given that I have only had one supervision in a year and no one has observed my practise or bothered to look at my entries in donkeys years it is quite scary what people could get away with. I rely on my service users for the genuine feedback. So long as I get a smattering of positives, a few thankyou cards and people calling me a few months after order expires I assume I can't be that bad but saying that we cannot always please and part of our job is to enforce and often pass on unpalatable truths. We are always going to be unpopular at times. It aint no picnick. Good to hear what 'tartan con' has to say.
ReplyDeleteTalking about scrutiny, is it just me or do others note various present and recently former justice ministers of ministers of justice appearing on TV and they never get asked about the justice system. Tell me I am not imagining it?
DeleteYou only have to look at Sam Giymah the current prisons minister who tweets about absolutely everything from microbeads to other inane crap but rarely about his day job which he seems totally clueless about.
Delete