Inmates sing the Serco Prison Blues
US state prisons are scarcely considered to be international best practice models of rehabilitation and forward-thinking liberalism.
So if Johnny Cash could gleefully sing, ‘‘I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die’’ to hardened crims at Folsom Prison without sparking a riot – well perhaps we don’t need to completely wrap our own inmates in cotton wool.
This week, we talk with Brooke McGregor, 23, a Dunedin woman who’s fallen in love with Michael Douglass, serving life at Toledo Correctional Institution for the grisly murder of an Ohio man. Now she’s over there fighting to win his freedom, even though Douglass has previously admitted involvement in the killing.
Like Cash’s 1968 visit to Folsom Prison, McGregor’s doting support for her unreformed sweetheart must be of dubious rehabilitative merit. She’s certainly not encouraging him to take responsibility for his actions.
I cite these examples to highlight the extraordinary conservatism of the decision to ban a Destiny Church pastor from Wiri Prison.
Cash’s inflammatory words didn’t cause a riot at Folsom. McGregor’s ill-judged compassion hasn’t fomented unrest at Toledo. But somehow, a religious minister teaching inmates to ‘‘Man Up’’ and take responsibility for their actions is regarded as a threat to the control of an NZ prison.
Granted, Destiny Church’s Bishop Brian Tamaki can be hard to love. When he demands generous tithes from his impoverished congregation; when he marches on Parliament with ranks of uniformed followers; when he blames homosexuals for the Kaikoura earthquake – he doesn’t always endear himself.
But in our haste to condemn Tamaki for his prosperity theology, the media has sometimes failed to acknowledge the good work his church does do in the community.
The Man Up programme mentors men to become ‘‘better fathers, husbands and leaders’’. It grapples head-on with domestic violence, anger, depression, obesity and addiction. These are challenges we need to talk openly about – and like ‘em or loathe ‘em, Destiny are doing just that.
So for private prison company Serco to ban the Church and its programme is a very big call. Inmates should be allowed religious teaching, as a human right. And our wider community should be allowed the assurance that prisons will offer criminal rehabilitation programmes that actually make a difference.
Serco has refused to say why it has banned Destiny, but a leaked email worries the pastor might be ‘‘soliciting’’ inmates to join the church programme.
That’s not good enough reason: If prisons are to ban a particular church, they need to say why.