'Who Got You Through?' - Lee

I'm not gunna carry on with that. (lee's working on a picture of a turtle) I tell you what, right? I'm gunna carry on with it, and I'm gunna make summat of that. Cos my thing is, I don't finish stuff. I've got a plan of what I wanna do. When I've blocked a bit more colour in I'm gunna go in with the black outline. I'm just not into it now.

Childhood

Before prison there was a guy that used to look after me, and I'd be safe, I'd be away from my dad. I'd go to a mechanic who worked for me dad, I'd go to his house, and he used to sort of keep me there and he wouldn't always answer to my parents and he'd let me stay the night. Nigel fryer his name was. Ey lets walk up I'll show you the house we'll have a walk up there if you've got time.

At school, cos I was quiet people picked on me. I was like a windup toy, they could just have fun, wind me up and watch me fucking go, and I used to kick off! I just didn't say anything.

There was one teacher- he was a roll up smoking long haired Vesatchi suit wearing, swearing mother fucker and I loved him, he was brilliant. I thought he was cool cos he smoked roll ups and said 'fuck' quite a lot. He was called Mr Roundtree. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have gone to school. He used to know when my dad had been kicking off again, I was very quiet and people didn't know me but he used to say, "come and stay in the design department, we'll make something". This is important innit, to where I am now, you understand what I mean? It's all I do. I make stuff, I don't do owt else I make stuff.

From the age of 16 to 25 I was prolific, I was always sketching and drawing, and I was good! After arthritis I didn't have a pen in my hand from the age of 28 to mid-40's. I've had to learn to assemble a GX 160 engine this week. I bought something called a short engine- you get to just add parts on, strap old bits of engine on to this engine.

God when I think about him. Mr Roundtree, What a guy. He'd notice and he'd make excuses for me. He'd say oh gimme your timetable for the day, double English, history, geography, whatever, and he'd ring the other teachers up and he wouldn't take no for an answer- there's no way he's coming to classes today. I never saw him again after school. I don't think he ever knew what a difference to my life he made.

Because of him I managed to get some qualifications, but at the age of 17 my head was quite gone already; I was showing symptoms I still have now which are to do with my hearing when I can't cope with stuff, when you can't hear anything and it comes from being a child when you get screamed at and my brain used to just shut off. it shuts off automatically and you don't hear anything. It's a weird one. I'm sensitive to all noises. I go through it every day. Especially on this street. I can't wait to get off it.

Teenagehood

You don't get treat very well at all in the young offenders' prisons. 1st day I was in a fight with a lad cos he accused me of going in his cell and stealing his radio, so I took a fire extinguisher off the wall and hit him cos I was scared of him. I acted in violence out of fear- I wasn't a fighter.

I was angry, angry at my dad. I had problem with physical touch, my dad put his hands on me too many times. So like someone would come near me or go to hug me and I'd fucking like…yanooo….

That was years ago, I dealt with them things when I was in De la pole when I was 17. That's my home from home. For me it was a good place. You know when you're meant to have happy days as a child? They were my happy days cos I was away from my parents. I felt safe cos you was locked on the ward 23 hours a day, it's like a prison but a mental hospital. But in strange way the kids made it ok, we all adopted each other cos were all in there for similar stuff. Fraggles on Fraggle rock- that's what we used to call ourselves. We were the genuine fraggles though. We weren't just fucking about we were propper nuts.

We were all kids and we all had horrific stories, a lot didn't make it through, a lot committed suicide. It was hard to hear those stories, right back then at 17.

It was very strict. There was a point system based on your behaviours, it was quite unachievable cos of the types of problems, you get 10 points a day if your very good and do all your chores. But it was a safe place for people that can act up and be violent. There was 1 staff to each person, you got to choose your key worker and everyone had one. Every day someone belted or kicked off. The alarms went off then 6 staff came down, flood the ward, jump on you, put Largactil in your arse then put you in a holding cell, and I think there was a need for that, yeh I really do.

My key worker was a beautiful girl I fell in love with- Alison. And then there was Trevor Snow, (staff) he was a nut job and everyone loved him. He was very much on our side not the staffs, he'd do some crazy arse shit, we formed an aeronautical hoover display team. You'd get bored on the ward, there wasn't much to do, so we all got a hoover, imagine you're in the red arrows then you split off…you do that but with hoovers! Trevor snow got hold of one of them massive hospital £3000 hoovers rigged it up to 4440 and sent it across the fucking ward, it was hilarious! In the staff's office he said shall we just drill a hole in the staff room floor so we can spy on the staff downstairs? he's still alive. He's still doing youth work.

Adulthood

Prison in general? I used to be fond of it. Once I got used to it. Some sort of routine. Easy. An easy life, compared to outside. There were the little ways in which you thwart the system… You have the quadrant, the square space in between the wings of the prison, and there's a lot of lines being pulled backwards and forward with little baggies on, drugs, and matches, I used to split one match into 6, with the razor blades, you get 6 lights out of one light. I'm quite proud of that. Little things like that. I used to make a lot out of matches too, I was really good with it actually, used to make loads of art.

Most prisoners are absolutely fine if you just talk to them. That's the key. No attitude. I still know Dave who I met in prison, I met him and he was quite an intelligent kid, I had hi[ED1] m to talk to really, and we had a lad called Cummings. There was 3 of us, we helped each other through that. You go through wanting to cut your wrists in prison, you do.

I don't know where I stand on prison abolition. There are real life cases and you will not let them in public.

Another guy who got me through prison was the vicar. Everyone in prison whether your religious or not would appreciate an hour out ya cell, so ya sign up for church. But the vicar gave me a guitar, so that's how I started, I used to get told, screamed at on a night time to shut up. I used to play blues on a night time in my cell, I used to play it near the pipes so the other prisoners could hear it down the pipes. Some appreciated it. Haha. It's nice to remember them.

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