ROSS is a lifer who, like many others facing a long prison
sentence, was suffering from severe depression. He had tried
hobbies in the past, but they ended up discarded in the corner of
the cell. "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," he says. "I had nobody to love me. I was just
hanging on to a futile, empty and miserable existence."
He resorted to prayer. "Every night, I asked God to have mercy
on me, and not make me endure another day. I've wept as I asked why
I was in the world."
Then he had a visitor. "I was lying in my cell one evening when
a bloke came in, and asked if I could 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. . . 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 it in a cupboard in my cell. About nine
o'clock I got it out, and started sewing. Before I knew where I
was, they were unlocking us for breakfast; a whole night had come
and gone, with no thoughts of suicide, and no tears of
melancholy."
In prisons all over the country, similar events are taking
place. Prisoners are picking up a needle and thread for the first
time in their lives, and producing work of a standard that they
never would have dreamt possible.
They are producting embroidery for Fine Cell Work, a charity
that sends skilled volunteers into prisons to teach embroidery and
sewing skills to the inmates. And their skills are of the highest
order. The Prince of Wales has commissioned cushions, and their
embroideries and tapestries can be seen in museums, galleries,
castles, and churches all over the UK. The items include elaborate
wall-hangings, embroidered pictures, kneelers, and altar
frontals.
PRISONERS are paid for their work - they can save for the future,
or spend on daily essentials. About 97 per cent of the participants
are men.
Fine Cell Work has developed from the pioneering work of Lady
Anne Tree, daughter of the tenth Duke of Devonshire, during the
1960s. A regular prison visitor, she initially worked in Holloway
Prison with two prisoners who made needlepoint rugs, which were
sold to New York collectors.
Lady Anne became increasingly convinced of the therapeutic
benefits of sewing and embroidery, aaconsidering it to be a form of
meditation. She dismissed any notion that sewing was an activity
simply for women, and campaigned to get legislation changed,
allowing prisoners to earn a wage for their work.
Fine Cell Work was launched in 1997, and now has a team of more
than 60 volunteers, working with 400 prisoners in about 20 prisons
in the UK.
The charity also works closely with designers and artists,
including Jasper Conran, Nina Campbell, and Gavin Turk. And for the
prisoners - many of whom are spending increasing amounts of time
locked in their cells - this is having some profound and rather
surprising effects.
Ross, for example, was surprised when he found that he was going
to be paid for his efforts. He has been able to buy weightlifting
equipment and a radio, and is saving for other personal items. More
important, the work has given him self-respect. "I'm quite
respectable now: my self-worth has been restored, and I feel
extremely good at the thought that I am helping somebody else as
well as myself."
He has something to look forward to. "How good it is to be
alive, and to feel that I am accomplishing something, and that my
life has real meaning," he says. "Nobody really enjoys an aimless
life, a life without purpose, do they? I still get depressed, but
nothing to cry about."
PRISONERS with serious mental-health problems have found that
involvement in needlework and embroidery has meant that they have
needed less in-patient treatment for depression while in
prison.
The fact that prisoners are paid for their work is important.
One prisoner saved up £900 by the end of his sentence - a healthy
nest-egg, and one that would help him to start his new life more
effectively. Prisoners get to keep 37 per cent of the proceeds of
their work, with the remainder of the money going towards the
running of the charity. Cushions are priced from about £50 to £120,
and a king-sized quilt might cost about £800.
The volunteers, who teach the inmates, are experienced
embroiderers and quilt-makers in their own right, who give their
time to the charity for free. Many are members of the Embroiders'
Guild, or the Quilters' Guild. They share the same ambition - to
change the lives of the inmates through the calming effects of
embroidery.
Tuition often takes place outside the cells, in an education
section of the prison. Classes are usually held every two weeks,
when prisoners are often taught a new stitch or technique by the
volunteers, who also sometimes work with inmates in their cells,
helping them with their sewing projects.
FINE CELL WORK is in the process of making 60 kneelers for St
Peter's, Hammersmith, in west London. "Our existing kneelers were
looking rather scrappy and worn, and so when a parishioner told me
about Fine Cell Work, I wanted to find out more," the Vicar of St
Peter's, Canon John Record, says. "Not only have we ended up with
beautiful kneelers of the highest quality, but as a church we have
been able to make a difference to prisoners' lives.
"Fine Cell Work is a fantastic organisation, as it not only
gives prisoners worthwhile work, which fills their time, but it
also teaches them useful skills. We have received various letters
from prisoners who testify to the amazing sense of self-worth that
the work has given them.
"In one letter, a prisoner told me that he realised that the
things he had been doing in life were so bad. But making the
kneelers had enabled him to do something useful, and in this way he
was able to say sorry, and give something back. I suppose it is
restitution in some way, although he would never have used those
words."
Each kneeler made for St Peter's has an embroidered message on
the side. Most are just one word, such as "sorry", "love",
"remorse", or "freedom". Some include the name of a loved one.
Not all the kneelers in the church have been made by prisoners.
"Some of our kneelers are made by parishioners or friends," Canon
Record says. "But the fact that prisoners are contributing to our
church on an equal level with everyone else is important. And
people notice the special messages, and the fact that the prisoners
have been able to express their feelings. This gives these
beautiful kneelers more impact."
The idea of the prisoners having a link with a sacred place is
important, Canon Record believes. "The discovery that their work is
worth displaying in a church, which is the house of God, and
therefore an important place, is very meaningful. This gives an
added dimension to what they are doing. "
FINE CELL WORK's design and commissions manager, Elena Hall,
worked closely with St Peter's to develop the designs for the
kneelers. "The church has various motifs, such as sheep and birds,
as well as other Arts and Crafts designs, which are part of the
interior. I helped to incorporate these images into the design of
each kneeler."
She also explains why this project has been so beneficial to the
prisoners. "Producing beautiful work for a church enables the
prisoners to feel part of society. And the fact that they can
include messages of remorse on the kneelers is important: in this
way they can experience some forgiveness.
"Added to this, perfection isn't usually expected in prison, and
so a sense of pride develops when work of the highest standard is
produced. The prisoners are praised for their beautiful work, and
for some people this is the first time in their life that this has
ever happened."
St Mary's, Ealing, in west London, has also commissioned four
embroidered lectern falls, which were designed by a member of the
congregation, the artist Suzanna Rust.
The Vicar of St Mary's, the Revd Stephen Paynter, says that
working with Fine Cell Work dovetailed with the church's mission.
"We believe strongly in restorative justice, and have a long
history of lay members' being involved in Wormwood Scrubs
prison.
"We participate in various projects, such as the Prison
Fellowship's Sycamore Tree victim-awareness programme, Alpha, and
prison visiting. When I heard about Fine Cell Work, I instantly
felt it was brilliant to support prisoners who are seeking to be
creative and productive, and who are also trying to move their
lives in a positive direction."
Another advantage of using Fine Cell Work is the reasonable
cost. "If we had gone to ecclesiastical embroiderers, the cost
would have been very much higher. For us, using Fine Cell Work
meant the perfect match. We want to use the church's money wisely,
and benefit prisoners at the same time. It took about a year, from
the date of our commission, to arrive, but it was well worth the
wait, and we are thrilled with the beautiful results."
THE development director for Fine Cell Work, Katy Emck, explains
more about the benefits of embroidery and sewing for prisoners.
"Time hangs very heavily in our country's prison cells," she says.
"Many of our prisons are also overcrowded, and the inmates often
find the conditions unbearable. Many prisoners are highly
traumatised.
"A large percentage of the people we work with are men. And they
have often committed violent offences, frequently matching the
stereotypical image of a rough prisoner with tattoos. They usually
find the sewing to be focused and gentle, and in this way prisoners
are removed from the brutality of their environment. It is
impossible to be angry while you are sewing."
Time in prison can, ironically, be a time of great creativity.
"Prisoners often find that they are locked up more in the first
part of their sentence, with precious little to do," Ms Emck says.
"One man composed 400 songs while he was locked up, and others
discover an artistic talent that they were unaware of, which can
then be channelled into embroidery and sewing.
"Many of our prisoners come from highly troubled backgrounds,
and have often suffered abuse and neglect themselves. Some have no
family, having come from the care system. Crime has often been
their daily reality. But when they start to produce top-end work,
they start to generate some self-respect. And the work that they do
starts to break down society's prejudices about prisoners. As one
customer said, 'They can't be all bad if they made that.'
"Fine Cell Work changes their aspirations, and that can mean
that prisoners are perhaps less likely to return to crime once they
leave. These lost souls have done something meaningful in prison,
and have skills that they can continue to develop on the outside.
We are also teaching upholstery skills, since this is an area in
which they might find employment after they are released.
"Prison reduces individuals, and what we are doing brings out
the good in people. Prisoners are the outcasts and rejects of
society, but when they find that they are producing beautiful work
for Dover Castle, or the Victoria and Albert museum, then they way
they see themselves is changed.
"People find fulfilment in prison, and their thank-you letters
to us and the customers illustrate just how beneficial this
is."
www.finecellwork.co.uk