My initial experience came in 2002 when I obtained a college placement with Mankind UK, a charity based in East Sussex, formed to support and counsel male victims of sexual abuse. I was a little wary of working in this environment, being inexperienced and still training, but was immediately moved and energised by the obvious demand and need for counselling and psychotherapy for inmates.
In this situation I needed to be adaptable yet aware of the importance of maintaining the frame and boundary of the therapeutic relationship. On a typical visit I would be escorted up to the Visits' Hall - reminiscent of that in which Victorian pupils gathered for assembly - but surrounded by perspex and plywood booths with screwed-down plastic tables and chairs in the middle. I would see my clients in one of these small booths (about six feet square) where confidentiality was clearly an issue. We could be seen by most people in the hall and potentially overheard by anyone in an adjacent booth. This could be a source of distraction and sometimes concern for my clients. I enquired as to whether there might be a more suitable room available, but was told that due to the overcrowding there was a serious shortage of space. It was this or nothing. I felt that this was indeed better than nothing (Over time, and due to the diligence of allies amongst the staff, I was eventually able to meet clients in more appropriate settings. Space remained a problem though and there was never a designated counselling room).
Initially, the biggest impression was how desperate people were to tell their stories. Many of them had never confided their childhood abuse. A large number of them were scared to tell anyone what had happened because of the received wisdom that to be abused means they will probably abuse. So for any other inmate to find out they were talking to a sexual-abuse counsellor could have various unpleasant consequences.
I was also aware that prison is not necessarily the best place to explore difficult feelings, open up and potentially make oneself vulnerable. This was an ongoing problem. Was it fair, or even ethical, to ask anyone to go through counselling within such an environment? I thought (and think) it was.
The conclusion I came to after working with a number of inmates for over four years, was that a large percentage of the prison population were traumatised in childhood by some form of abuse: sexual, physical or psychological. This led to self-medication, alienation, acting out, various anti-social behaviours, personality disorders, distrust of authority (originally symbolised by parents), anxiety, depression and so on. For these people, counselling can be of great benefit. Many of them have never experienced a warm, positive, non-judgmental relationship and the experience of one can empower them and teach them empathy (some of my clients became Listeners after a few months of counselling).
Lee Partis (MBACP accred.)
(Thanks to Judith Burrows for the use of the photo of me)
(Thanks to Christopher Halls for the use of photos of Lewes Prison. See http://www.lewesonline.com/)