‘I love being a listener now. I don’t think I could give it up’
They say time stands still when you enter jail — maybe that’s why the clock on the wall in Wheatfield Prison auditorium is frozen at two minutes to two.
That same sense of paralysis can lend itself to worries and anxieties among inmates, sometimes leading to serious mental health issues, self-harm and suicide. In the words of prison governor Pat Kavanagh, this is “a very macho environment”, where there is a herd mentality and a need to “maintain face”. This is where the listeners come in.
Yesterday, members of the Oireachtas justice committee heard from volunteers on the Samaritans’ Prison Listener Service, where inmates are trained to be available 24/7 to listen to the problems, fears, and anxieties of others sharing cell space.
The programme is celebrating 10 years and runs in five prisons, although newly trained inmates will begin listening in the women’s Dóchas prison from this Monday. There are plans to extend it to every jail in the country, including the Midlands and Cork prisons, and prison managers and inmates believe it has already saved lives.
One listener named David said before he became a listener — a process which involves a selection process and intensive training — “I knew happy and sad, they were the only two emotions I could name”.
Now he listens — and in line with his training, never gives advice — to inmates who either contact him after lockdown or more informally in the yard.
“Sometimes they don’t look any better when they leave but at least I know they have got it off their chest. We all put a mask on [but] we all go behind our doors and most of us are probably crying ourselves to sleep.”
Another listener, Michael, was the same: He admits to starting crying at Coronation Street but his role as a listener has given him renewed appreciation for the skill of listening to others. “I love being a listener now, I don’t think I would give it up — unless I go home.”
It is a real issue: Those volunteering may not pass Garda vetting to continue that work once they leave the prison system. There is currently no listener service in St Patrick’s Institute for young offenders and cannot be until the last underage inmate is removed.
Mary McMahon of the Samaritans said: “We go in once a week, but that’s not enough.”
Alongside those issues are the tangible results the listeners believe have been achieved in what can be a harsh, unforgiving environment. Family occasions and Christmas are busy times, and it’s unknown whether overcrowding and other problems have been contributing to more mental health issues among the prisoner population.
Many of the listeners themselves need to offload. One listener, Roger, says he has listened to inmates who may have been feeling suicidal. “I have had a lot of sleepless nights because of that,” he admits.
Last year the number of listeners rose to 47 and fielded 600 calls. Another listener says his own family have seen the change in him since he underwent training. “It’s educating you and giving you a bit of hope,” he says.
The hands on the clock might not be moving, but for some prisoners at least, life isn’t at a standstill.
* www.samaritans.ie
