So for my birthday my partner planned a surprise night out. An event in London I was told – and we would be staying in a hotel afterwards. I was excited and a little anxious – hints around Magic Mike and The Vagina Monologues were being bandied around.
The excitement was tempered two days before hand when probation decided that we couldn’t stay in the hotel together. I pointed out that we would end up staying together at my place. I also mentioned that I would be facing night buses and trains full of drunk people – questioning their model of risk management? But true to form, I was told locally by my probation officer while the line manager from 200 miles away had made the actual decision without any context or right to reply.
Now I get that their job is to manage risk – but surely there has to be an element of managing the offender too? I hear the platitudes about reintegrating in to society. Build a social life and support network they say. Learn to live life and move forward they suggest.
But my situation is not so straightforward. My offence occurred 300 miles away. I used my sentence and open conditions to build a new life away from my past. In truth, I never wanted my victim’s family to see me again, I wanted to disappear under a rock – not to be a reminder. So when I was paroled I was still managed by my old probation office while reporting locally until my formal transfer was completed. This has caused a huge disjoint in my case management exacerbated by my long term offender manager now being signed off long term sick.
When I told probation that I had met somebody and we wanted to explore if it could be a relationship they were concerned, that makes sense as my index offence was the murder of my partner. But their immediate reaction was to tick box control measures. There would be an alcohol monitoring tag for sure. There would be further measures considered and nothing was ruled out. It didn’t exactly feel like honesty was the best policy – what I had hoped would remain a collaborative process where I was actually a stakeholder in my own parole had suddenly become a demeaning process triggering a feeling of learned helplessness.
I have since discovered the main issue. A line manager I have never met, in an office 300 miles away that I have never set foot in, was told I had started dating somebody. They opened a file, looked at my index offence from 4,500+ days previous and saw I had been drinking heavily when I committed my offence. Then they reasoned that they could apply to the parole board to ask for a variance on my licence to include an alcohol monitoring tag. They wanted to be seen to control what they could, whether that would be of any benefit.
Considering the urgency of the risk they were describing, it took them over 4 months to prepare the application to the parole board. I was to have a right to reply, to submit my representations. Thank God I did. The wording they used was blatantly biased – I had had zero enforcement actions, had never given any actual cause for concern and had completed Alcohol Intervention Programmes in the community. The case went to the parole board for consideration and here I am – another 4 months have passed and there is still no decision. For all of the risk that the probation service mention, there is zero urgency. But all they have done is cause angst. Every week I see my probation officer I’m dreading the outcome, is this the week? This has been kicking. On for 9 months now – and I’m arguing that this, 9 months without incident, in and of itself is proof that there was no need for tag monitoring.
I guess my point is that I could have gone to the opera and stayed with my partner in a hotel. As long as I didn’t tell them, probation would never have known. But I want an open relationship with them – my partner has read all of my sentencing, parole and licence conditions and she would not see me jeopardise my freedom. But by doing the right thing I’m forcing probation to make decisions and regrettably, those decisions are being made by people who have no knowledge of me and are not interested in context. I won’t change, I’ll be honest, it’s not worth it. Wankers.
But we still went to the opera. Jenufa at the Royal Opera. We was dolled up for our Saturday Night in London. At the second interval my partner asked why I was smiling – the opera was a bloody bleak and gruesome affair! I explained it was a matter of perspectives. For more than a decade my Saturday nights invariably involved one of my neighbours either stoned off their tits or pissed on hooch, blaring drill or drum & bass music loud enough to shake prison walls! There may not have been a hotel stay, but it was still a win, win, winning day.
