Personal Training, Personal Change.

We had tried, but we couldn’t gather enough interest. If we could, in just three months, I’d be a qualified personal trainer! Of the 60 men in the unit, despite the prevalent workout ethic among about half of us, only four had applied for the first-ever trial of a Weltech Fitness Instructor’s course in a New Zealand prison. It didn’t seem likely to happen, and officers informed me that the opportunity would be offered to another unit instead.

As a last resort, we asked 11 members from one of the most notorious gangs to sign up. All of them were confined to their cells for 23 hours per day as punishment for various offences, mostly in-prison drug-related. Courses offered by the prison allowed for an exception to confinement, and we persuaded them to join by highlighting that they would get to spend 8 hours per day outside their cells. 

They all agreed with this benefit, so they signed up, but unfortunately none of them showed any interest in self-improvement.  So, the course was going to be, well, “interesting”, with the obvious challenges being seen from a mile away. Most people, both inside and outside prison, would avoid any interaction with this group of gang members. But here they were, making our course possible and becoming a part of our unconventional community of convict fitness instructors.

The course began, running from 9:00 am to 4:00 pm. Participants included the bros, one person from a rival gang, an older meth user and dealer, a habitual petty thief nicknamed “Lobo” (short for Lobotomy, fittingly—but never to his face), myself, and the new bro’s, the 11 notorious gang members. We shared tables of four in the seldom-used classroom, situated between the inner and outer Unit 6 perimeter wires. There was an electronic whiteboard, an A3 paper easel, pens and paper and workbooks. Oh, and Sam, a clean-cut, athletic-looking Weltech instructor who had a quiet but confident approach. He modestly mentioned that he was also one of the trainers for the Hurricanes, the professional rugby team composed of giants and situated in Wellington.

It started off as chaos, like a kindergarten from the worst part of hell. I began to expect that some of these blokes would completely lose control at some point. Moreover, from experience, if you crossed these guys the wrong way or at any time, there’d be real trouble. So, as a rule it was best to stay low-key and keep well clear. But there was absolutely no way of keeping clear from them now – I hoped like hell the course didn’t include debating. 

Happily, Sam explained that we would focus on four core topics: anatomy, nutrition, fitness theory, and fitness practical, in roughly equal amounts. The first three would require study and memorisation. Multi-page study guides were handed out. There’d be a test every other Friday, with failure not being an option and two-time failure meaning expulsion from the course.

The room erupted into pen-throwing, chair-scraping, and aimless striding—a near headless chicken scenario times 11. They weren’t deliberately rude or obnoxious, but my new bros exuberant lack of self-control was underscored by their threatening demeanour. The prevailing question echoed, “Hey, Mister, I haven’t been in a class since I was ten. How can you expect me to listen and learn? This ain’t gonna work out, Mister.”

The class did begin to settle down gradually, especially as they reminded each other that attending class was better than the alternative—returning to cell confinement. Sam had started to generate genuine interest across the entire class and had earned their quiet and kind respect. What a champ.

It was frustrating, and I felt a constant risk of potential violence, but I wasn’t going to quit. Then, later in the second week, things calmed down entirely. Without exception, everyone began to apply themselves. Several classmates asked me privately, “You must have been to school or university or something, Scotty—how do you learn stuff? How do you remember stuff?”

I explained “the learning process”, by reading and writing, self testing and reviewing, stressing the importance of effort and perseverance and staying off the drugs. I studied in my own way, in truth in this case mainly by last minute cramming and scored around 90% on the first test. The bros and gang members failed miserably. 

We began to work together, singing and chanting, and rhyming muscle and skeletal structures, food, protein, and vitamin groups. We strummed the guitar, creating rhythms while fully concentrating on the task. The class had become respectful and attentive during lessons and asked “interested” questions. The gang members were becoming the new bros. Initially, they would return to cell confinement after class, but they requested and were granted extra hours for group study. They started to embrace it, enjoy it, and own it. A new light had appeared in many eyes, replacing the sullen, understated threat. It wasn’t that these guys couldn’t learn – it was just that they hadn’t been motivated or supported to learn, and that the traditional learning methods were not appropriate for them at that time.

After two further weeks, they all repeated the first test, with an average score of around 90%. In the week six test, I scored around 90% again, while the entire rest of the class averaged 94%! Almost without exception, these guys turned out to be the better learners once they fully applied themselves and did it in a way that suited them. It took opportunity, encouragement, removal of barriers, a firm target, a mentor, and integration of their own method.

By week eight, several said they had hopes of a job in the fitness industry. Duke, a wannabe kick boxer who had earlier communicated by habitually swinging his foot inches from people’s noses, even started to inquire about getting his full-face tattoos removed. Others, knowing my background as an accountant, talked to me about organising their own personal training businesses and finding customers and markets that would be less troubled by their backgrounds.

I don’t know how the new bros left the course, whether they passed or failed, or whether they returned to cell confinement. I was released on parole two weeks before the end of the course. I was prepared to do whatever was required to complete it, even if it meant staying in or travelling to the prison for a further two-weeks. I did the work and presented my case, but the system erected unnecessary barriers to completing and gaining the qualification. With a Parole date set by the board, there was no opportunity to finish the course, or to complete and test extramurally, or do so by day visits to the prison, or attend the final weeks of the same course directly at Weltec.

The most significant positive outcome was witnessing the rapid change in the attitudes of the others, from the most negative to as positive as I’d seen anywhere, any time, any place. They began to have hope.

I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on the challenges that many of the bros faced throughout their lives that might have contributed to their incarceration. One major issue is the lack of opportunities for education and personal development that is appropriate to them, both in school and after.

Many of my fellow inmates came from disadvantaged backgrounds where they didn’t have access to quality education or family and community support for their personal growth. This lack of opportunity probably set them up for a lifetime of limited career options and poor outcomes. How were they supposed to find stable and well-paying work when they struggled to read and write, and there are alternative methods that work for them? I reckon this discouraged many others in the Unit to apply for the course to begin with. 

Surely the most likely outcome for the bros who weren’t privileged enough to have the support I and many others take for granted is financial instability and the desperation that comes with it and puts people on the slippery slope of crime.

Furthermore, even when inmates were given the chance to participate in educational programmes in prison, there are often systemic barriers that hinder their progression and opportunities. For example, access to resources and materials were limited, and the scheduling of many courses didn’t often align with our needs, abilities and limitations imposed by other parts of the system. I also witnessed that when individualised support and mentoring was available, it was sometimes a hindrance, sometimes being delivered by people who were simply wrong for that job. With many inmates struggling with self-motivation or finding it impossible to learn in a traditional classroom setting.

All of these factors can contribute to a cycle of poverty and crime, as individuals who lack education and skills may turn to illegal activities as a means of survival. It’s essential to recognise that these issues are systemic and require a multifaceted approach to address effectively. We don’t need to invest more in education and support systems, but we do need to direct them more accurately, so that they are appropriate to and trusted by these at-risk groups, and that provide opportunities for personal and professional development, both in and out of prison. 

By doing so, we can help break the cycle of incarceration and create a better future for everyone involved. Surely, we would also provide a little more hope to many people who are doing it tough.