In these Corona-Virus times where all the days start to blur into each other and there seems no end in sight, maybe the advice of Dory can be taken on board, ‘Just keep swimming’
Just Keep Swimming!
I’ve been busy. A little while ago the Learning & Skills manager in my prison warned me that I might be spreading myself a bit thin. I knew she was probably right – but over the latter part of 2019 I developed a new attitude to my sentence and now I am starting to feel like a plane that has touched down and is fast running out of tarmac.
Now don’t get me wrong, I still measure my remaining sentence in terms greater than years – I’ve not yet progressed beyond the scales of Olympics and World Cups – but I am facing less of them inside now.
I find that attitude and belief changes are like gaining or losing weight – they happen slowly and you don’t notice the difference day-by-day, but all of a sudden you see an old photo and wonder where the hell did that belly come from (or new jawline in my case – I thank you!)? My attitude to and beliefs around my sentence too have melted and reformed like polar ice caps.
I had been on remand for about 6 months prior to my conviction and that was probably the toughest part of my sentence. Not only was I coming to terms with the horror of my crime but I was trying to navigate my way through a British ‘local’ prison and a world that was at that time totally alien to me. There was just no point in the future that I could focus on. Many of my peers express the same sentiment when un-sentenced – it’s like having the sword of Damocles hanging over you and not knowing when it will fall.
Six months later I came back from court with a mandatory Life sentence. This means I have a minimum tariff that I must serve before I can even be considered for a parole hearing. It was some small relief to know that I was done with the judicial system, that I could just get on with doing my time – but then I was hit with the amount of time I faced. That first night I didn’t sleep, instead I used scraps of paper to convert my sentence into months, then weeks, then days and finally hours.
For the first month I kept a daily tally. Every day I would wake up and recalibrate, ‘x’ thousand, ‘y’ hundred and ‘z’ days until I can be considered for parole. That got tired very quickly.
I calculated that 20 laps of the exercise yard equated to one mile, so I began to keep track of the distance I walked. I remembered an old black & white movie where a Nazi war criminal (might have been Hess in Spandau) had walked over 25,000 miles – the equivalent of circumnavigating the equator. I set off with the same goal in mind.
I couldn’t check my progress – believe it or not, some prisoners have used maps to escape, so they are somewhat frowned upon. Instead I rang my bestest pal weekly to tell him how far I had walked so he could Google my progress for me. I got as far as the North Sea but I got bored walking on water after two weeks so sacked it off. I was counting down the days – ticking them off and trying to kill time. I didn’t realise it at the time, but one of the most profound pieces of advice I received was through another maritime metaphor.
A prisoner talked to me and likened a life sentence to swimming the English Channel. A life sentence is not a fixed term. It can’t be considered to be a set distance – like swimming lengths of a pool. Instead he told me, “You just have to keep your head down and swing those arms lad. Keep stroking and don’t start looking for the coast of France – all you will do is get disheartened and flounder. Just head down and keep swimming.” Any time I see Dory on Finding Nemo I’m reminded of that guy, and what he said made perfect sense at that time. I just kept myself occupied in the present, broke my days into manageable chunks and forgot about the weeks, months and years.
A decade went by in terms of Great British Bake Off’s, Strictly’s and X Factors. I’ve tracked Football Seasons, 6 Nations, Wimbledon’s and Formula 1’s. Sure enough the World Cups and Olympics have come and gone. But throughout that time the only things that changed about me were my waistline, hair length and facial hair arrangements. I was caught in a rut, head down, ‘Just keep Swimming!”
In my life before prison I always talked about further education – but I had that catch all safety net – “I just don’t have the time, what with work and all that.”
At the start of my sentence there seemed no point in educating myself – what would I use qualifications for? But as time went by it became clearer to me that I still had a life whether I was serving a sentence or not. I had a finite amount of time and it would be shameful not to make the most of it. If I did manage to achieve parole – what would that look like for me? When I thought about returning to the world as an older and fatter version of myself with a murder conviction I wised up. So I started to educate myself.
In the last few years I have qualified as a teacher, Personal Trainer and Nutritionist. I’m also aiming to complete a STEM degree in three years. I have come to regard my imprisonment as an opportunity to find the best possible version of myself. I have more than enough regrets already, I don’t want to compound my mistakes by wasting the time that I have left. I have come to believe that there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to achieve everything I want to do.
I have now taken on another challenge in delivering a weekly nutrition course to both staff and prisoners here. I am a man on a mission. My manager is right, I am spreading myself thin and But I need to do it. I can develop the teaching skills I need and consolidate the knowledge that I have learned so far. Moreover, I can give something back – I can help others by sharing my knowledge and experiences. I’m driven – but I have to be. I am a convicted murderer. If and when I achieve parole I fully expect an extremely hostile environment.
So my attitude to my sentence has gone through a huge evolution. I’m no longer scratching off days, nor am I merely drifting along with the tides. I’m head up, looking for France and pulling hard!
Just Keep Swimming!
