A “model” prisoner

Can you or I as a weekly visitor to the Mother-Baby Unit in prison change the atmosphere in there?  Possibly, with a lot of dedication and hard work.  Can one of the prisoners change it?    With even more grit, yes; and I’ve been privileged enough to witness it.

*names changed

BEFORE…The Mother-Baby Unit had a rather hostile atmosphere when I started there (running a ‘mainly music’ session). And for many months there was no change. Until… *Serena joined.

ALONG CAME SERENA I’ll never forget the day I met Serena. She joined the mother-baby unit from high-security side. She was expecting her first baby within a few weeks. Sitting on a couch, she leant in to watch the group on the floor participating in the music session. The speaker played “play on your instruments, play and play and STOP!”, each mum somewhat listless with the baby on her lap and the engagement with the shaker. One mum lounged indolently over another armchair against the wall, she wasn’t interested in joining in, another had strolled in late after sitting outside with other inmates. (some guards enforce their participation, others don’t)

ENGAGEMENT WITH OUR SESSION  Serena watched with great interest, asking questions “are you guys here every week?” “oh cool, I can’t wait to bring my baby to this”. Whilst other mums who didn’t need to be there (eg. baby sleeping), would stay away, Serena not only was present, but sang with enthusiasm as she picked up the songs. Until she joined I have to admit I was sometimes a little embarrassed of some of the tracks, they felt long and a little grating. Looking back I know that was my own anxiety over the way the mums were engaging (or not, in this case) 

VULNERABLE   There was a receptiveness about Serena that I hadn’t seen in the others, a vulnerability. It is definitely not viewed as ‘cool’ to look vulnerable - after all, to be vulnerable is to be open, exposed. They haven’t known a safe place for that outside, and in here, especially after having to transition from ‘high (security) side’, the walls around hearts become equally fortified. And here was Serena. “I love this, I can’t WAIT to bring my baby to this, this is awesome”. Openly telling us about herself and her life, her history.  We had never seen that type of attitude. 

RESPONSIBLE & INFLUENTIAL Her presence began to disarm the others. Only a session or so later chatting was opened up more. The topic one time; their transportation to prison. “We call the truck ‘the can’”, one explained. “You just have to sit there, locked into your cubicle”. Another voice chimed in “it’s inhumane, they need to change it"!” Murmurs of agreement. “We are treated like animals, there’s a hole on the floor in case you wet your pants, then they hose it all out after” “I wet my pants”, one woman offered. Another: “me too”. “yeah, I wet my pants, I cried”. … “I cried too”, another volunteered, her face stiffening with the admission.

Serena’s rugged wisdom… “we complain about it. But, who do we have to blame for being in that situation? Ourselves. Only ourselves. I can bitch and moan about the way I was transferred to prison, but hell, I deserved to be brought here, no point blaming anyone else”. Somehow she could declare these things, even as a ‘ne wbie’ to the unit, and not the oldest - and the others accepted her views. Her vulnerability only spoke one thing: courage to own her own stuff. No judgement of others, just ownership. Humility. Repentance.

AN EXCELLENT MUM & ROLE MODEL She was as wonderful a mum as we knew she would be. Singing to her daughter frequently, kissing her small face over and over. Taking joy in meeting baby’s needs, she continued in the music sessions with great gusto. And it was influencing others. The environment started to change. When we shared our fruit platter afterwards, her presence was affecting the atmosphere. She was such a natural chatterer who was herself 100% of the time. Some of the things she’d say; “I never EVER wanna be back here in prison, nah”, “I’m staying out of trouble, I never want my daughter to be without me, she’s gonna have an awesome life” Regarding abuse in her history - “the cycle stops here, no more”. And observing her over the time we’ve known her, it’s clear she’s hardened her resolve to stay clean and live an upright life for herself and her daughter. Baby’s awareness and abilities over the time this time are proof that a healthy attachment and sensory engagement really does advance your baby’s development. 

CONFIDENT We never had anyone read out the karakia, only one of us two facilitators. Another ‘until Serena came’. In a confident voice “e te Atua… Homai kia matou… Tou maramatanga….” We never had anyone sing the songs out loud, or read the rhymes clearly, or enthusiastically walk around and lift her baby up and down with ‘hey de ho, the great big elephant is so slow” …until Serena came.

PROTECTIVE When another inmate was offended by something that came up and treated us with extra-hostlity, Serena defended us. “don’t worry if she’s talking shit about you, she’s in the wrong”  

A FRIEND We had a break with lockdown restrictions, and on the day we were due to resume sessions, Serena told us later she was walking around telling the guards “my friends are coming today”. I loved that. I hadn’t twigged that we were the only people, who instead of being supervised for visits in a communal room, were able to enter their space. She considered us friends. The privilege had almost been lost on me.

A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT came after one lockdown break…When the song ‘Skinnimarinky’ started - baby - who was moving around on the floor - stopped, turned and stared at us. Then we noticed - this petite 9-month old’s tiny fists were opening and closing as she recognised the song… “Skinnimarinky doo…God loves you” My colleague and I squealed, ‘she’s doing the actions!’ - but Serena wasn’t surprised; “yeah, I sang this to her everyday, with the actions, even when you guys weren’t coming” My heart. 

THE AUDACITY TO ASK When we didn’t make it in one time, our fruit platter sat at the guard house, still wrapped up. Serena approached the window “can I take that fruit platter back to my house?” “because, that was for me and my friends, and they aren’t coming now, so can I have it?” I can imagine one of the guards turning and looking at the other guards, a little incredulous at her requesting, before shrugging and handing her the platter. (technically no reason she would not be allowed it but most would assume it would be left for the guards to eat) She had the audacity to ask, what could we receive if we asked?

STILL INFLUENCING  These days Serena still greets us with a big hug, she talks about her growing faith, in front of anyone and everyone.  She has built a safe, supportive, friendship-based environment in the Mother Baby Unit.  It feels like a sisterhood and it is a beautiful thing to behold.   The mothers before her have gone, and new ones have already picked up the baton and will continue with this culture after she is released.  And they’re not the only ones who have benefited – I’ve been inspired to continue with purpose and confidence.  I owe her so much.