Inside Justice

Something’s wrong with Scotland but we can’t see it, writes Karyn Mccluskey

Richard Taylor, the father of Damilola who died aged ten after receiving a wound to his leg, asked me to give the annual memorial lecture in London last Friday. Damilola’s face is well known to me – that smile, his impish look. It’s eternally sad that his face is so widely known because someone took his life, his future – all the birthdays, paintings done at school, college aspirations, meeting new partners, weddings. And, in taking his life, they forever changed the lives of his family, his community and the country.

In truth, I would like to have never had to meet Richard or the many other parents of victims I have met over the years. I will never get used to it. Too many tragedies to mention and the questions always at the forefront are: Why? Why did this happen? Why was it my loved one? Some things are beyond our power to control – natural disasters, unusual unique events – but so much of the crime we see can be prevented. We can support better lives and focus our efforts on making this country safer for all our children.

It’s easy for social justice to fall off the agenda when things are busy and challenging, to be distracted by seemingly more pressing issues. And it’s easy for crucial areas, which affect people who are some of our most wounded and sometimes damaging citizens, to be neglected or pushed down the list of priorities by other more “deserving”, or at least more palatable, causes.

But I would say we can’t ever take our eye off this. There is something profoundly wrong when our drug and alcohol problems are where they are right now. There is something wrong when the number of people in our prisons remains still so high, despite great efforts by many. There is something wrong when we have a justice system saturated with people carrying a burden heavy with adverse childhood experiences and trauma, and overflowing with the poorest and most disadvantaged in our society. There is something wrong when we seem to know what we want to do to change this, but can’t seem to achieve it, in any acceptable timeframe.

There is something wrong.

It struck me that it’s a little like boiling a frog (you know the analogy) – we have become so used to operating within our current framework, and degree by degree we have become desensitised and lost some of our aspiration, unwilling to think about starting out on a different journey. But we cannot let that happen.

We have made huge strides in understanding trauma, supporting parents, keeping kids in school, reducing the numbers of young people trapped in the justice system and so much more. I meet so many phenomenal people who are changing this country. They are busy, coping with complexity and yet I am always asking them for more; for we can do better. I know it is a mighty ask.

It’s not enough to talk about it – we need to deliver change people can see on our streets, in our schools, in our courts, in our prisons and in our communities. It’s going to be hard work. But the inequality that blights our streets, and the people who live on them, is overwhelming. We can’t talk about prevention without talking about economic opportunity, better educational chances for young people and more support for families trying to do the best for their kids. You think that sounds expensive? Try not doing it. Damilola’s mum said he lost his life because of the enormous problems in this society. She knew. And so do we. l Karyn Mccluskey is chief executive of Community Justice Scotland