Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- List of Boxes
- Acknowledgements
- Foreword
- 1 Philosophy, Identity and the ‘Ship of Theseus’
- 2 Towards Theory: People, Places and Voices
- 3 Survival, Plato and the Ideal Society
- 4 Kant, Bentham and the Question of Identity
- 5 ‘Why Do You Think That?’ Descartes, Hume and Knowledge>
- 6 Not Just an Offender, But a Person
- 7 Trying to Find a Community of Philosophical Inquiry
- 8 Finding Trust and Developing Relationships
- 9 Personal Self-Exploration
- 10 Towards a Framework for Understanding Philosophy in Prison
- 11 Final Reflections
- Appendix: Technical Methods
- Bibliography
- Index
8 - Finding Trust and Developing Relationships
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 15 April 2023
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- List of Boxes
- Acknowledgements
- Foreword
- 1 Philosophy, Identity and the ‘Ship of Theseus’
- 2 Towards Theory: People, Places and Voices
- 3 Survival, Plato and the Ideal Society
- 4 Kant, Bentham and the Question of Identity
- 5 ‘Why Do You Think That?’ Descartes, Hume and Knowledge>
- 6 Not Just an Offender, But a Person
- 7 Trying to Find a Community of Philosophical Inquiry
- 8 Finding Trust and Developing Relationships
- 9 Personal Self-Exploration
- 10 Towards a Framework for Understanding Philosophy in Prison
- 11 Final Reflections
- Appendix: Technical Methods
- Bibliography
- Index
Summary
On a June day in HMP Full Sutton, I returned from my tea break to the classroom. There were no windows in the room, the carpet was a dark grey, and the classroom was lined with ancient computers, rarely used. A small group of tables had been moved into the centre of the room to form a sort of circle, and six men from the VPU were sat at the desks, waiting for my return.
Before the tea break, we had discussed Kant's categorical imperative. We discussed compassion, duty and moral choice. The conversation was thoughtful, and the participants had engaged in polite conversation. They had also been for a tea break, usually in another classroom, where they could mingle with others from the VPU who were attending education that day.
As I entered, they fell silent and looked at me nervously. This was my third week working with these men and we had developed a gentle rapport. Prior to the tea break, they had engaged in the conversation with ease, having relaxed now that they understood what was expected in the philosophy classroom. However, as is often the way with this particular population, they were not always forthcoming in their opinions, and I could tell that they wanted to ask me something.
“What?” I ask, “Come on, what is it? What do you want to ask me?” They were shifting in their seats and glancing at one another conspiratorially. Eventually, one piped up, “Er, Miss, are you a … feminist!?!” The word was spoken with a sort of awe (tinged with disapproval), as though a feminist was some kind of rare creature that they had never come across before.
I sighed inwardly, and smiled to myself. Carefully, I responded. “Well, I think the word ‘feminist’ can take on a range of meanings, but on the whole, yes, I would be happy to give myself that label.” Another retorted, “But, doesn't that mean you hate men Miss!?” This time, I sighed outwardly. I am pretty sure I failed to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. Calmly, and with patience, I explained that it did not mean that I hated men, but instead, that I wanted there to be equality between men and women. They pressed me, arguing that if it was about equality, “Wouldn't that mean you are a ‘humanist’, not a feminist?”
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- Philosophy behind BarsGrowth and Development in Prison, pp. 143 - 160Publisher: Bristol University PressPrint publication year: 2021