Needlework gives hope to prisoners
Listening to BBC Radio 4's Midweek programme on the way into work this morning I heard a fascinating interview with Katy Emck, the executive director of Fine Cell Work, a charity which teaches embroidery to prisoners and sells their work. The inmates are all taught by volunteers from the Embroiderers Guild, the Royal School of Needlework and the world of professional design. The prisoners do the work when they are locked in their cells, and the earnings can be saved or sent to their children and families, used to pay debts or for accommodation upon release. Taking a tour round their website reveals plenty of evidence for the power of occupation to create meaning and purpose, restore hope and optimism for the future and to provide skills for life both as a hobby and as a way of earning money on release. Take the story of William Trotter, for example. He started doing Fine Cell Work and earning money and then was moved to another prison where there wasn't a FCW instructor. He had taken along a half completed piece of work and his new companions quickly got over their initial suspicions about doing such an apparently female activity when they heard how much money could be earned. William contacted FCW and asked for an instructor but there wasn't one available to go to the new prison so William became the instructor himself and apparently kept up the incredibly high standards demanded by the work. An anonymous prisoner from HMP Maidstone writes in detail about his experiences: I'm a life-serving prisoner and for years I have been trying to escape. I have tried numerous cell hobbies which promptly ended up discarded in the corner of the cell as so much rubbish. Due to depression, most of the time I've been unwashed, unshaven, teeth not cleaned, hair not combed, as often as not my cell has been dirty and stinking. I've had no possessions, nobody to love me, just hanging onto a futile, empty and miserable existence. Every night I've asked God to have mercy on me and not to make me endure another day. I've wept and I asked why I was in this world, I am good for nothing, no money, no family and with no-one I could go to for help. I just couldn't understand why I should go on living. Then something happened to me. I was lying in my cell one evening when a bloke came in and asked if I can help him. I didn't know the fella, but he had helped me with cigarettes and cigarette papers and teabags. He explained how he'd broken his glasses and needed to finish a pattern he was sewing for the in-cell charity course. Although I class myself as being very butch and sewing so very feminine, I figured I owed him, so I agreed to help him finish his work. He showed me what it was I had to do, I made him promise not to tell anybody and I hid I in a cupboard in my cell. About nine o'clock I got it out and started sewing. Before I knew where I was they started unlocking us for breakfast, a whole night had come and gone with no thoughts of suicide, and no tears of melancholy. I promptly joined the class as it offered me the escape I'd been looking for. Talk about surprise when I found out they were wanting to pay me for the finished article. I've bought a weight-lifting belt, a radio, and I'm currently saving to buy a tracksuit set and trainers. I am at present sewing a mat 6 feet long and 3 feet wide and they are going to give me £120 on completion. The hope, the self-respect and pride. I am no longer dirty and smelly, I'm quite respectable, my self-worth has been restored and I feel extremely good at the thought that I am helping someone else as well as myself. How good it is to be alive, to feel that I am accomplishing something and my life has real meaning. Nobody really enjoys an aimless life, a life without purpose, do they? Around the world millions of people are working hard and trying to find happiness in living. Do take a look at the website and look at the beautiful work the inmates produce. One of the interesting services they offer is the Tapestry Finishing Service for those of us with good intentions but poor completion! If you want to buy a special present for someone, keep them in mind - the prices are extraordinarily reasonable considering the work that goes into the pieces. I found the whole project fascinating from an occupational perspective - as another inmate says: It opens up another world, one that in many ways is long-forgotten. It is reinventing the craftsmanship of yesteryear. Then there is the pride and usefulness in seeing something of beauty come together, and the thought that my and my friends' cell work will bring pleasure, now and hopefully long into the future, to the recipient. It allows us to once again do and start something new and be useful. Inmate, HMP Wandsworth Labels: embroidery, occupation, occupational science, prison |