communion(which I sadly had to turn down each time even though the bread and ‘wine’ – which I suspect was Ribena – looked quite appetising). And there were always branded biscuits, a few classes higher than the little ‘basic value’ packs we were given in our ‘grab bag’. What is more – and definitely an extra attraction for me, being very conscious of needing to keep up my vitamin C intake – the prison fellowship guys brought with them the most delicious mango and pineapple juice for us all each time. A real luxury.
Depending on the time of the service, some girls would arrive a little late from their kitchen duties, others would have just got back from their jobs outside, some would even turn up in their bathrobes and slippers. Not, in other words, the usual type of church attendees in my local Holy Trinity church in Clapham. But the chaplain and preachers were very flexible and understanding. There was a routine. Bible and hymns: books and the CDs and CD player would come out of the cupboard and the person conducting the service or session would also bring CDs with them. We would then shout out the hymns we wanted and if lucky the CDs did have the music needed to accompany them and we would sing along. But at times the hymn would be too obscure and there was no music to go with it, in which case we relied on someone, not necessarily always the chaplain, to give us a lead. We were terrible at singing and the combined cacophony at times brought out giggles but for me it was such fun to be able to sing along. Belonging to a slightly different religion and not knowing the hymns from childhood I had always kept quiet during singing in the Church of England but loved the way in which people participated. With my son being at school atWestminster, the abbey was his local church and I had gone many times to special church and thanksgiving -type services for the school, including his own confirmation when he was a teenager by the Bishop of London. I’d loved it all. But the words sung by everyone on those occasions still escaped me.
Now I can proudly say that I have become familiar with many hymns – the girls had their own favourites which were chosen again and again, week after week, and they were mainly uplifting ones. Every now and then we would choose one that not many knew and the one I chose floored them, a ‘pop song’ called ‘Tell It on the Mountain’. It had been popularised by the group Peter, Paul and Mary in the 1960s and selecting it showed my age! No one else had a clue how to sing it and my one attempt to lead the way and gain some clout among my fellow churchgoers fell horribly flat. We abandoned it after the second verse.
There were not very many of us but most were regulars, augmented periodically by short-termers like me. Some did not use the books provided but seemed to be able to sing the songs nevertheless but I was never able to ascertain whether this was because they knew most of those hundreds of hymns by heart, having been in prison a long time, or in fact because they just couldn’t read and therefore had to memorise them. Research has shown that women prisoners in particular are likely to have, or be bordering upon having, a learning disability – roughly 40 per cent, compared to 27–30 per cent of male prisoners. 86 Generally, 7 per cent of prisoners have an IQ below 70, with another 25 per cent having an IQ between 70 and 80. 87 Some 48 per cent of prisoners have a reading age of eleven or lower. 88 I had at times comeacross girls who would ask me to read what was on the notices for them and even add their names to lists and there were certainly a couple of them in the church group.
The girls also liked to participate wholeheartedly in the debating sessions that we had once a week where we would take a passage from the Bible and analyse it. One of the most interesting debates was about forgiveness, which caused many a problem given the feelings many of the girls had
Depending on the time of the service, some girls would arrive a little late from their kitchen duties, others would have just got back from their jobs outside, some would even turn up in their bathrobes and slippers. Not, in other words, the usual type of church attendees in my local Holy Trinity church in Clapham. But the chaplain and preachers were very flexible and understanding. There was a routine. Bible and hymns: books and the CDs and CD player would come out of the cupboard and the person conducting the service or session would also bring CDs with them. We would then shout out the hymns we wanted and if lucky the CDs did have the music needed to accompany them and we would sing along. But at times the hymn would be too obscure and there was no music to go with it, in which case we relied on someone, not necessarily always the chaplain, to give us a lead. We were terrible at singing and the combined cacophony at times brought out giggles but for me it was such fun to be able to sing along. Belonging to a slightly different religion and not knowing the hymns from childhood I had always kept quiet during singing in the Church of England but loved the way in which people participated. With my son being at school atWestminster, the abbey was his local church and I had gone many times to special church and thanksgiving -type services for the school, including his own confirmation when he was a teenager by the Bishop of London. I’d loved it all. But the words sung by everyone on those occasions still escaped me.
Now I can proudly say that I have become familiar with many hymns – the girls had their own favourites which were chosen again and again, week after week, and they were mainly uplifting ones. Every now and then we would choose one that not many knew and the one I chose floored them, a ‘pop song’ called ‘Tell It on the Mountain’. It had been popularised by the group Peter, Paul and Mary in the 1960s and selecting it showed my age! No one else had a clue how to sing it and my one attempt to lead the way and gain some clout among my fellow churchgoers fell horribly flat. We abandoned it after the second verse.
There were not very many of us but most were regulars, augmented periodically by short-termers like me. Some did not use the books provided but seemed to be able to sing the songs nevertheless but I was never able to ascertain whether this was because they knew most of those hundreds of hymns by heart, having been in prison a long time, or in fact because they just couldn’t read and therefore had to memorise them. Research has shown that women prisoners in particular are likely to have, or be bordering upon having, a learning disability – roughly 40 per cent, compared to 27–30 per cent of male prisoners. 86 Generally, 7 per cent of prisoners have an IQ below 70, with another 25 per cent having an IQ between 70 and 80. 87 Some 48 per cent of prisoners have a reading age of eleven or lower. 88 I had at times comeacross girls who would ask me to read what was on the notices for them and even add their names to lists and there were certainly a couple of them in the church group.
The girls also liked to participate wholeheartedly in the debating sessions that we had once a week where we would take a passage from the Bible and analyse it. One of the most interesting debates was about forgiveness, which caused many a problem given the feelings many of the girls had
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