I listened politely as the middle-aged lawyer told me about the type of legal work they do. I knew the process he was talking about only too well. He didn’t know I knew or he might not have made the throw away comment ‘Nobody cares about inmates’.
I knew he was wrong. I care! I might not be a government official in the court , or someone deemed more important in the system, but I still care and still count. Not one to let a comment like that go, I immediately challenged his belief by stating that families of those inside care. The lawyer then retorted back that 80% of people in prison don’t have anyone visit them. I wasn’t sure about that, but I knew for a fact that I didn’t fit into the lawyer’s 80%. Neither did many other people that I have seen visiting.
This comment perturbed me, so I had to do a little research to get the facts straight. One study published in 2011 showed that 61% of prisoners received at least one visit during their incarceration, and on average these prisoners received two visits per month (Duwe, G. & Clark, V., 2013). Another study published in 2002 showed that 79% of women got at least one visit during incarceration, however 61% that were mothers were never visited by their children (Casey-Acevedo, K. & Bakken, T., 2002). People inside were indeed more likely to get a visit than not. The fact that they didn’t get a visit however was not always about that no-one cared.
There are many complexities when visiting someone inside. Issues you and I are well aware of – the distance to travel to start with. It is not unusual in either NZ or Australia for people to be travelling more than 100 Kms to visit someone inside. This means there might also be transport challenges, figuring out how to keep the children calm on the long day trip, and the cost just to afford to travel there. The biggest challenge might be the emotional energy required after working all week and perhaps looking after children without the person at home to help. Visiting takes a lot out of both the visitor and the person inside. It can be challenging sitting with someone trying to work out which things to discuss and what not to so that neither of you get upset before the short time is up.
Caring can be hard. My caring sometimes brings tears of grief that are hard to wipe away. My caring also brings a sweet sense when I see my person light up when I visit, or when I get a short letter from them. My caring doesn’t mean I give into demands, no. It means I do what is right for them, myself and others in our lives. And if I don’t care? Yes, sometimes I felt like it hurt so much I just wanted to not care. Couldn’t I just forget about this person and move on? In some circumstances it is necessary for their own wellbeing for some people to do this. I know in my situation that neither I, nor the person I visit will benefit by my not caring. It’s during those times when I feel like this that I know I need the support from others to be able to care.
The research shows people do visit, but even if people are unable to visit for whatever reason, it doesn’t mean they don’t care. It just might mean that sometimes the barriers are just too high to get through at this time.
The takeaway message…. Wherever you are, don’t forget you are in a company of others that care! If you haven’t found a supportive circle around you, do check out the Organisations page on this website. Feel free to visit us often
References
Casey-Acevedo, Karen, & Bakken, Tim. (2002). Visiting women in prison: Who visits and who cares? Journal of Offender Rehabilitation, 34(3), 67-83.
Duwe, Grant, & Clark, Valerie. (2013). Blessed be the social tie that binds the effects of prison visitation on offender recidivism. Criminal Justice Policy Review, 24(3), 271-296.