BEING A PRISON VISITOR 

How does a church organist and retired botanist/marine biologist come to end up volunteering in a reception prison? If I had had a bucket list of things to do following my retirement from university (which I didn’t) this would not have featured on it – and yet it turns out to be one of the most enjoyable, and certainly one of the most fulfilling, things I have done.

It all started with my offering to play the organ at a couple of carol services in the chapel at HM Prison Durham last Christmas. My understanding was that I would be locked into the organ loft – as, indeed, I was. There are several locked doors between the floor of the chapel and the organ console (well, it is a prison after all). But it then transpired that I was invited to join the lads after the services for coffee and mince pies and the rest, as they say, is history. After playing at a couple of other services in the chapel over the next two or three months I now play every Friday morning: the services being followed by about a half an hour of social chatter over coffee and biscuits.

At the time, the Prison Chaplaincy was in the process of arranging a system of OPVs (Official Prison Visitors) so that prisoners who would otherwise not have any visits for whatever reason – no family, or family living too far away to visit, or (worst case scenario) had been written off by their family because of where they are – could request a visit. Being a remand prison, Durham holds prisoners from a very wide geographical area. I readily agreed to this and, after a detailed security vetting, launched into this new occupation. (Because I am now in the prison every week I also underwent a variety of other training sessions).

There are certain things about which I am absolutely certain, most notably that anyone who says that being in prison is a comfortable existence – warm cell, free food, television, whatever – has never been physically (or mentally) inside a prison in their life. Prisons are noisy, sometimes violent, and very overcrowded (in an audit of the prison estate this summer, Durham was listed as the most overcrowded prison in the country, holding 985 prisoners in a prison that at full capacity should have 561). This latter means that prisoners share a cell, that has been designed for single occupancy, with a stranger. It is not always feasible to be taken to the educational or training facilities that are provided, and one may be locked in a cell for the greater part of the day.

I think that one of the worst parts of being in prison is not being able to do what one likes, whenever one likes, wherever one wants, with whoever one wants. Taking away an individual’s freedom is a very big deal. Having a visit from someone outside is one of the highpoints of one’s existence. Let’s face it, looking forward to nattering with me for an hour and a half must speak volumes.

What are prisoners like? Well, it often feels like a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde scenario. Whether in the chapel or in the visit hall I meet friendly, polite, massively appreciative men who are pleased and grateful to see me. I’m not so naive or stupid as to think that they are there because they have pinched a bag of crisps from the corner shop (or, if they have, they have done something else as well…..!). I usually make an effort not to find out why they are there: although I occasionally end up failing in that bid, sometimes because they assume that I already know, sometimes because they want to tell me. I visit in lieu of their family or friends: I don’t go to judge or to preach. I chatter (I’m really good at that: it’s astounding how one can natter for an hour about something on which one knows very little – in my case, football!) as if I am meeting them at a social event. I end up having the sort of friendly, relaxed conversations that one might have with a person one meets at a party or a reception – without the sort of questions that are fired at one at a drinks party in Jesmond. To date, no one in prison has yet asked me whether I own a gite or have a favourite deli in Florence (the answer to both of which, incidentally, is no).

Durham Prison has an absolutely fantastic multi-faith chaplaincy where everyone works as a team and for whom everyone in the prison is catered: all denominations of Christianity, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, Humanist, Pagan.

I have nothing but the greatest possible admiration for the prison staff. Dedicated Prison Officers who have to cope with the problems associated with supervising, 24/7, close on a thousand individuals who don’t want to be where they are and make no secret of the fact. I’m sure that I couldn’t do that in a million years – let alone do so and remain friendly. Then there is also a whole support staff dealing with drug and alcohol rehabilitation, psychologists, teachers, etc. It is only when one walks around the entire site that one appreciates what a colossal place it is – composed not only of the wings where prisoners are held, but with an administration block, health wing/hospital, library, gym, yards.

What is the bottom line of this spiel. Well, ideally, I have put an idea into your mind that will germinate and result in your expressing an interest in becoming a prison visitor yourself. At the moment, there are three of us at Durham: it would be wonderful to have more. One has complete freedom in deciding how much or how little time is involved and it is an incredibly worthwhile ministry. The parish is already very generously involved with the Angel Tree Christmas Project that sends cards and presents to the children of those who will be in prison at Christmas which is greatly appreciated.

Gavin Hardy