Kim had stabbed his housemate multiple times. Like many who end up in prison or gangs, he’d used violence as a valid problem-solving tool—perhaps the only tool he felt was available to him. When a problem arose, many inmates would punch, threaten, bully or stab to resolve it. But if they couldn’t use violence against a problem, and bereft of other tools, they’d ignore the problem and suffer it. The violent approach could lead to temporary relief, but both violence and ignoring problems ultimately intensifies grievances and escalates issues.
Kim, a non-gang member and outsider, was a skinny, introverted young man in his early twenties, marked by the cool haze of a recent weed habit. Working as a farmhand, he shared a house with an older colleague who continuously tormented him. One fateful night, drunk, stoned and driven to the edge by his tormentor, Kim reached his breaking point and stabbed his housemate multiple times. He called an ambulance immediately, and the victim survived. Kim pleaded guilty and received a three-and-a-half-year sentence.
When I arrived at the prison, he was a loner, without any friends or allies in the unit. I sought insights from gang members about why others like him were harassed but Kim was not. Sharpy, a young and respected gang member, explained that Kim’s actions demonstrated a level of courage. Kim was respected by the bro’s for being capable of such violence. However, it became clear that he had lashed out due to a lack of appropriate tools and skills to cope with his situation. He was clearly vulnerable and ill-equipped to deal with conflict, and I was concerned that upon his release, Kim would not properly process or react to life’s next curveballs.
Over the next few months, Kim and I walked around the prison yard, sharing stories and bonding. He initially had no interest in playing the “Corrections game” and intended to serve his full sentence without seeking parole. He believed no one would help him, including his prison counsellor who was too busy to properly help Kim explore his coping mechanisms and why his instinctive response was violence. Kim had a distrust of Corrections Officers and authority, and he knew his family wouldn’t be of any help. He’d concluded that he had no chance of rehabilitation or early release, and, upon release, he vaguely hoped his uncle would offer him a place to stay, where in his words “he could grow a sneaky patch” (of weed).
Kim’s lack of hope led to his lack of ambition, which further attacked his tattered mental health. He was slipping further down a dark path, and he needed support to halt his descent. As we spent time together, I discovered his kind nature and that his core values were solid. This was true for most prisoners, who were almost always fundamentally decent people but lack support and others backing them to improve themselves.
As Kim approached eligibility for parole, I encouraged him to apply. We spent weeks discussing the process and examining what the Parole Board would expect from him. Gradually, the wheels inside his head began turning, and he became a little hopeful and a little ambitious.
We worked together to address the issues he had with the victim and vice versa. Through honest conversations and critical self-reflection, Kim started to understand and take responsibility for his actions. He also began developing a solid plan for his future, with support in place to help him during difficult times.
Over months, we documented Kim’s thoughts and feelings, refining and improving them until the handwritten documents we shared and swapped were truly his own. This process transformed him, as he gradually prioritised his future over the time-wasting distractions of prison life. With a newfound sense of confidence, Kim sent his documents to a lawyer, who responded positively.
I encouraged Kim to take the lead in his Parole hearing, as he had prepared well and was ready to be genuine and to communicate openly. Unfortunately, his initial application for parole was denied. However, the Board offered constructive feedback, outlining areas for improvement. Although setbacks like these can be disheartening, I hoped Kim would persevere and eventually secure parole.
The long-term outcome remains unclear to me, but I sincerely hope that Kim succeeded in his next attempt and went on to make a positive impact on society. The lesson in his story is that everyone deserves the opportunity to be heard and to receive support. By listening and working together, we can help individuals like Kim communicate better, change for the better and increase their chances of success in life.
As I reflect on my time working talking to Kim, one thing that stands out is the importance of recognising that we all have vulnerabilities and communicating openly about personal issues. Kim had a lot of unresolved emotional baggage and trauma that had contributed to his violent behaviour, and it wasn’t until he was willing to be honest with himself and to others that he became able to start addressing his underlying issues.
I also believe that this lesson extends beyond Kim to the wider prison population. Many prisoners have experienced trauma or come from backgrounds where they were discouraged from expressing emotions, and as a result, they often struggle with mental health issues and have difficulty processing their feelings. By creating a safe space for them to open up and discuss their emotions, maybe then people will be able to better work through those issues and become better equipped to handle difficult situations without resorting to violence.
In my experience, being open and vulnerable also helps to build trust and create more meaningful connections between people. As a former inmate, I’ve found that the more I’m willing to share about my own struggles and improve my own communication the more my friends are willing to open up to me. This, in turn, has allowed me to better understand their perspectives and to better understand myself.
Overall, it is clear to me that communication and openness are critical components of creating a rehabilitative environment in prisons. But they’re also important for every part of our lives.
By fostering a culture of honesty and emotional expression, we can help individuals like Kim – or ourselves – work through issues, gain a greater sense of self-awareness, and ultimately, increase their chances of success in life (even if that life begins after prison).