I wrote the original piece in the days following the earthquake in Japan but put it on the shelf for two reasons. One, there was a personal question about appearing insensitive at a time of great trauma experienced across the globe and secondly, I wanted to see if my thoughts were borne out. I believe they probably are!
In recent months, our TV screens have carried imagery of one disaster after another - cars and buildings being washed away by flood waters in Australia, collapsed buildings in central Christchurch, empty hillsides where houses once stood before major mudslides in South America.
Today, nearly three months after the earthquake in Japan and the subsequent tsunami, I was watching again documentary video footage that captured different aspects of the disaster as they unfolded. The images, to my mind, were of a disaster of quite a different magnitude to anything else I had seen.
Yet it is probably true to say that, I (we) have become somewhat desensitized by all the images over the last months and years that are transmitted into our sitting rooms such that we express our shock, reach out with our feelings to those affected …. and soon move on with our own lives. Perhaps, with greater magnitude of disaster, we move on a little less soon but we do move on!
In trying to make sense of what we are experiencing in the world right now both globally and locally, a thought began to form in my mind. While in no way intending to trivialize the experience of those caught up in such natural disasters, I saw similarities in the way we respond to things that take place beyond our immediate boundaries . We listen to reports of another young life lost to knife crime, the shooting of a police officer, the murder of several prostitutes from within a single town and, we express our shock, reach out with our feelings to those affected …. and (soon) move on with our own lives. Once the offender has been sentenced, that’s it, end of story.
However, that is not the case! Whether it’s about natural disasters or about crime, these are not one off ‘stories’ but trilogies. The second book covers the immediate aftermath i.e. the coming to terms with the event (whether of crime or natural disaster) as the victim or as perpetrator while the third book covers the reintegration back into society or reformation of a community/society. Unless we are personally connected to the story, either through knowing one of the characters or by virtue of living in the area, we will close the first book on finishing it and not pick up either the second or third.
In the context of offender management, this truncated interest will actually impact upon many different areas: availability of resources, reporting of success stories, a sense of worth for both offender and those who work with offenders. How many people actually know (or care) what time and attention is given, by numerous agencies and individuals, to addressing offending behaviour or what opportunities are available to those who aspire to something better while incarcerated or working with the Probation Service, or what level of personal growth offenders might experience during their period of punishment and what they may achieve on release?
When resources are at a premium, this surely is a time to be more proactive in sharing best practice with a wider world; expressing the invaluable work that is undertaken within the Criminal Justice System but away from the spotlight; and highlighting the amazing transformations that can take place for individuals when given some focus and direction. When there is a greater level of understanding, by the public, the media, the politicians, the Civil Service et al then misinformation, misrepresentation, and prejudice are reduced, appreciation, cooperation, and respect build up.
This is a time to promote the second and third books in the trilogy. I’d buy them!
