Freedom Denied

The number of women going to jail for crimes both minor and major is on the rise in the ACT and across Australia. We speak to one recent inmate about the choices she made that led to her living behind bars— and how she wants her life to be different now she is free.

IN THE CRIMINOLOGY FIELD, stories such as Kristie’s are achingly common.

Twelve-year-old girl gets in with the wrong crowd at school and forms a relationship with a troubled boy. She starts experimenting with drugs, stops talking to her parents and finds solace in avoiding school.

Dad loves a drink and mum’s got her hands full with four younger brothers. Home is never a refuge for Kristie.

She’s pregnant by 17 and she moves into adulthood dealing drugs to support herself. The first bloke has left the scene and the second bloke is abusive. Two more children follow and she has a seriouslyentrenched marijuana habit.

Kristie tries to look after her three kids on her own, and dabbles in some hospitality work in her twenties. But her new partner is dealing and she’s so caught up in it she can’t really see a way out.

She justifies her life choices to herself by saying she’s providing a nice life for her kids.

But someone with Kristie’s background is at acute risk of finding themselves on the wrong side of the law, and by the time she is 25, Kristie’s crimes catch up with her. The police raid her home for cannabis cultivation in 2013 and she is placed on a good behaviour bond.

She is raided again in 2015, but doesn’t realise she has been placed on bail.

Her children and mum, meanwhile, think she runs a cleaning business.

It’s not until her third raid in 2017 that her world comes to an absolute screeching halt.

Just like the Monopoly game—Kristie goes straight to jail.

“I honestly never saw it coming, even though I’d been raided before I thought I’d get off again—I didn’t think for a minute I wouldn’t get to go home and that I’d actually get a prison sentence. I didn’t know I was on bail from the previous raid.”

By the time she is 25, Kristie’s crimes catch up with her.

Now 30, released and off drugs for more than 18 months, Kristie still physically recoils when she speaks of the day she left her kids in family day care, drove to do a deal for 10 acid tabs, was intercepted by police, arrested, and immediately locked in the city watch house.

“I was in shock, I was crying, I was panicking because I needed to pick up my kids.”

She managed a call to her mum, but she would not get to see her children again as a free woman.

Kristie was charged with nine offences, including possession of cocaine and MDMA (Ecstasy) and was sentenced to three years.

She was taken straight to the Alexander Maconochie Centre (AMC), given a standard maroon uniform to wear, and denied of most of the personal liberties we take for granted each day.

She also joined an increasing number of women who are receiving jail sentences in the ACT each year.

Natalie Veenstra is the AMC’s Women and Children’s Services Coordinator. Prior to this she was a correctional officer. She is the first point of contact for women going to jail in Canberra and she has seen the full gamut of emotions when a woman is separated from her children, her family and her life.

“Every detainee, male or female goes through an induction, medical checks, mental health assessments, and security risk assessments as we try to determine their placement.

“We try to address anything they might need immediately, such as phone calls, and work with family services to ensure the immediate welfare of children. Distress levels can run pretty high and it can be a shock if people aren’t expecting to go to prison. And, of course, many don’t. We have to ensure their safety as a priority.”

There are currently 50 women at the AMC. This contrasts with 445 men.

Prisoner numbers across the country are rising rapidly—up by four per cent this year on last, according to the latest analysis from the Australian Bureau of Statistics. The ACT tops the states and territories on its prisoner number growth—increased by five per cent in the last year.

And while the national breakdown sees around eight per cent of the country’s prison population being female, that figure rises to 10 per cent in the ACT.

To cater for this demand the AMC has had to repurpose a section of its main cell block to house women who would normally be detained in shared cottages. A specialised Women’s Care Team has also been set up.

According to Natalie, there are a number of well-worn pathways to crime. Most women will present with a trauma history—including exposure to drugs, alcohol, violence and abuse. Mental health issues sometimes play a role.

While the bulk of academic research on gender differences in offences finds women firmly at the less serious, and certainly less violent, end of the crime spectrum, Natalie is watching that change.

“We are seeing women commit more aggravated robberies and violent crime—much of it attributed to drugs.”

The crimes of the women she manages each day range from white collar crime to murder—their sentences, from weeks to life.

Natalie’s work is complex—she and her team must work with women who have been exposed to intergenerational crime, women whose husbands are serving time in the same jail, women who have been in jail for much of their adult lives, and women whose children risk following in their footsteps.

Adding to this complexity is the ACT’s increasing rates of recidivism—where some women return to the AMC repeatedly—despite the best efforts of staff to rehabilitate them.

It’s really sad to say, but for some women, life on the inside is nicer than life on the outside.

“We have pledged to reduce our recidivism rate by 25 per cent in 2025 and we are looking very closely at ways we can achieve this. Some faces come back time and time again, and we are looking at all the barriers to them reintegrating into the community successfully.

“It’s really sad to say, but for some women, life on the inside is nicer than life on the outside. This shouldn’t be the case.”

According to Natalie, the biggest issues facing detainees as they transition out of jail are stable housing and employment. It’s hard to get a job without a house and it is hard to get a house without a job. And sometimes it can be a really vicious cycle from which they cannot break free.

AMC is working on providing a transitional release work program for suitable prisoners who show strong signs of being able to rebuild their lives. Meanwhile, all prisoners are encouraged to undertake life skills or study programs while they are inside, as well as to adhere to a routine and take part in communal activities.

Which is exactly what Kristie did.

She used her time to knuckle down and complete a Business Certificate II and took as many personal development courses as she could within the fortified gates of the AMC. It was a far cry from her commitment— or lack thereof—to finishing high school.

“I did every course I could do. I am proud of how much I studied. It was better than being bored.”

Her commitment was noticed by the justice system, as was her strong attachment to her kids, who would accompany her mother on weekly visits. Kristie was released in less than a year. She went immediately into a drug rehabilitation program for three months and was assigned a caseworker through the ACT’s Throughcare program. She was then placed on an Intensive Corrections order and subjected to urine testing for three months and strict prohibitions from taking drugs.

Kristie says it was the toughest thing to walk back into the free world, with no home, no job and all her possessions in storage.

“But being back with my kids has definitely been the best bit.”

Kristie is focussed on beauty therapy and wants to run a business from the home she has recently set up.

One of the upsides of her time in prison has been re-establishing her relationship with her mother, who cared for the children the entire time she was inside.

She still sees her caseworker and occasionally there are tears when the adjustment to a new way of living hits a bump.

“The hardest bit has been trying to work out where I fit in. You know, my good friends sometimes don't want to hang with me because of my past.” And Kristie is trying hard to avoid falling under bad influences.

She wants to be more connected to her own daughters than she was to her own family.

“I guess my advice is to not ignore your kids—to really listen to what they have to say and to understand their feelings.”

She also tells her daughters not to follow the leader at school and to make their own choices about what is right and wrong.

Someone rooting for her is Natalie, who maintains a steadfast hope that all the women who go through the AMC have the potential to change their lives.

“Sometimes it takes hitting rock bottom for people to turn things around, and we do see success stories from in here, even though we also sometimes see a revolving door with some inmates.

“It is in everyone’s benefit that we can make a difference to these women—they eventually become our neighbours and a part of our community. I always believe change is possible.” •

WORDS Emma Macdonald

PHOTOGRAPHY Martin Ollman