Opinion: My day at Springhill Prison

Opinion: My day at Springhill Prison

Most prisoners are seen in a bad light. To get inside you have to have done something pretty bad. The majority of offenders we see in the media often face murder, manslaughter or sexual assault charges. I've covered many of these trials and heard the details of their crimes. Like many people I've been guilty of thinking we should lock them up and throw away the key. Admittedly, there are some in society for whom rehabilitation is a distant reality – a blurry and unattainable goal. They are beyond redemption. But for those who made a mistake or got caught up in the wrong crowd, they're desperate for a second chance. And I've just seen it.

I was able to get close to some of those prisoners, and allowed through the gates of Springhill Corrections Facility in Waikato. The prison is one of 16 working prisons across the country offering skilled workshops, education and work experience as part of prisoner rehabilitation. It's not your stereotypical prison, and a far cry from the likes of Shawshank Redemption or The Green Mile. Once you pass through the gatehouse and the metal detectors, it's more campus than jailhouse, with green open spaces, classrooms, gardens and workshops. 

Many offenders freely roam the grounds and use the space and facilities to hone the skills they have learnt during their sentence. Prisoners are responsible for maintaining the gardens, preparing meals in the kitchen, and, just a few hundred metres down the road, many are tasked with renovating Housing New Zealand homes.

We were taken through to the plumbing and carpentry workshops. Around half a dozen prisoners were working, all entrusted with tools and equipment. Some were studiously focused on theory work, chipping away at their level-four NZQA qualifications.

I spoke to two of them – one, who after serving 15 months of his sentence, still has five more years left behind bars. He seemed slightly nervous, but when he began to open up about what he'd learnt in his time at Springhill his eyes lit up.

He told me he never would have learned how to be a plumber on the outside, and despite having the world at his feet, he decided to turn to crime, alcohol and drugs. As he spoke more about his future I sensed an air of excitement. He told me he was eager to put his skills to good use in the workforce as a drain-layer, and one day even start his own business. He said he wanted to aim high, and many of the guys who worked alongside him felt the same. 

The Corrections staff had a similar energy, many of them having seen these guys morph from freshly convicted criminals to keen job hunters. One officer turned to me and said: "We don't treat them differently. They're people like everyone else, and are here trying to turn their lives around."

The staff here appeared to know the importance of education.  Without it, these offenders could leave prison not only on the back foot, but worse off than when they came in. They're isolated, and you can't help but feel removed from society, despite having everything you need to survive behind the wire.

Case in point – one officer spoke of a prisoner who didn't know what EFTPOS was, let alone how to use it. The basics are within reach, but internet, smartphones and flash technology, which have become the norm outside, don't exist in this world.

There appeared to be a good rapport between prisoner and officer. Each staff member, no matter what their views, seemed to agree on the importance of trying to set these guys up for success. 

Across the road at Hampton Downs raceway, two prisoners were working on its grounds as part of the work-to-release programme. The pair were some of the lucky ones to secure full-time work, having been promised apprenticeships once they finished their sentence.

I was taken through a newly renovated room, its tidy finishings and flash fixtures all the work of the two offenders. The raceway's site manager told me he was sceptical at first, and worried the guys would only do and say what Corrections wanted to hear, but he admitted he was genuinely surprised. They were committed, proactive and keen to turn their lives around. 

I was originally meant to interview another employer who backed out, fearing the publicity showing they hired prisoners would harm their business. Stigma is another obstacle for those repaying a debt to society.

I'm no expert, but from what I saw behind the wire I believe that some of these prisoners made bad choices, and despite that they genuinely want to put the past behind them. Equipping them with the tools and experience to do so can only be a good thing, and until proven otherwise, it's only fair we give the right ones a shot at a new life.

Genuine rehabilitation costs money and there are few votes in it. But if it keeps a prisoner crime-free and busy on the outside, then surely it's worth it to all of us. 

But I'm also a realist and understand that only the best and handpicked prisoners of Springhill were on show for the media. I get that.

But what I saw was positive. Let's hope that continues for them as they strive to turn their backs on that prison and on the crime that saw them locked away. 

Watch the full story tonight on Newshub Live at 6.