WOMEN ‘INSIDE’
Feature Article by
Jeannette Dean
Foston Hall is a neo-Jacobian red brick manor house designed and built by Thomas Chambers Hine in 1863. From a private residence it became an orphanage, then a school, then a Junior Detention Center, then an Illegal Immigrants Center. Sudbury Prison put their lifers there in 1988. In 1997 it became Her Majesty’s Prison for women, for housing 140 of the growing populace of convicted females.
One would not have known the three women arriving at Foston Hall in a white stretch limo were being transported from one prison to another. However, there were the uniformed officers to whom each was handcuffed. And, there were the spirals of razor wire topping the steel-sheet backed 20ft fence that surrounded the tastefully landscaped grounds.
Checking in took most of the afternoon, each item in their HMP plastic bags being logged and forms completed. Their first night was spent in a three-bunk dorm on C wing in the main building. C wing reflects the various groups it has housed over the years, and now holds the punishment block, as well as residence for the more difficult inmates and ‘inductions’. With music and voices at maximum volume and three or four women per 15ft x 6ft cell, the introductory night was a rough one.
The second day saw them moved to private cells in a 40 unit pre-fab building. New, clean and comfortable, the 9ft x 11ft cells even provided enclosed toilet and shower, an unheard-of luxury.
After a few days of settling into the ‘working prison’ all three opted for education rather than the jobs on offer. The £7 per week they received would almost cover stamps, phone cards, toiletries, smokes and snacks they could have only through the canteen. Subsidies from their families would be needed for any other purchases. Work in the kitchen or on the grounds offered more pay for longer hours, and sewing prison clothes in the Sweat Shop offered more on increased production. But, preparation for jobs after release was their priority.
Wake-up call comes at 0730 when the officer glances in to ascertain each inmate is alive and still in residence. The permanently uncovered view window in the door took some getting used to. A jangle of keys announces 0800 unlock when everyone charges to the water-boiler for a thermos refill and the first caffeine hit. Everyone is issued a packet of coffee, tea, sugar and whitener to get them through the week. Then breakfasts are collected in plastic insulators from trolleys wheeled over from the kitchen. They may be taken back to the cell or eaten in the dining room.
The main building houses administration, medical facilities, education and gym. At 0900 classes begin. As befits the wide range of interests, age, educational level and skills, there are a variety of classes. Math, English, Food Hygiene, Cookery, Word Power, Hairdressing, Spanish, Arts & Crafts, and Computer Skills are among the selections. Certificates, diplomas and degrees can be earned and staff work closely with students to help them prepare for the ‘outside’. Funding is available for correspondence courses, Open Learning and Open University. Groups like The Hardman Trust and Women In Prison will also help to arrange financing.
After class an hour is allotted for lunch. The typical choice would be curried vegetables, curried beef or egg salad sandwich with fruit or biscuits as dessert. One of the bonuses at Foston is that one has a few minutes to wander outside to sit on the grass before and after meals, staying within sight of the office. It is a minor liberty but of immeasurable value to those incarcerated. The variety of birds in residence, a big old Pendulous Ash of stoic character, and well-groomed sports field soften the separation from home and ‘normal’ life.
Following an hour of ‘bang-up’ while staff have lunch, the afternoon is the same as morning. Next staff meal is 1700 to 1800, then inmates have ‘tea’ (supper). Usually that’s a choice of macaroni with cheese, salad sandwich, or sliced beef with salad, followed by scone or fruit. For the evening one may go to the gym for games, weights or exercise machines; take free time in education; watch television; or socialize and play billiards. The chaplain oversees the multi-denominational chapel and visits the wings with his guitar on occasions to have a sing-along.
There’s laughter and talking but the undercurrent of sadness is predominant, ever-present. While general talk and day-to-day chit-chat are heard, the main subjects are their children and their cases. Most will own up to guilt or innocence, but few feel they were fairly treated by the system. The separation from family is like a cancer, unarguably damaging children more than mere statistics reveal.
The three newcomers retire to their cells at 2030 (earlier weekends), banged-up for the night. One writes to her husband. After twenty years together they broke the law together and both take correspondence courses while they do time. One writes to her six sons, aged 3 to 17, trying to keep the family together though they’re spread between family and Social Services. Her distress is intense as the courts are threatening adoption since her first parole is over two years away. The other writes to her ex, her two children and her mother. She is training to be a hairdresser and upon release wants to have two more children.
Perusing the populace of a women’s prison, one is hard-pressed to find ‘criminals’. Rarely is violence a factor (though many were abused as children) but often drugs are. One thinks more along the lines of mistakes made than of crimes committed.
Unfortunately, their mistakes aren’t as easily handled as the white stretch limo that had been mistakenly sent by the private hire company.