James Brokenshire MP
Placement with Twelves Company, Devonport, Plymouth
5 – 9 February 2007
Monday 5 February 2007
Picture: Cheryl Ingram, James Brokenshire MP and Martine Cotter
Sexual abuse remains a taboo subject. It's one of those things that you don't talk about. In fact you try to persuade yourself that it isn't real. And as for the abuse of children - well let’s not even go there. And yet that is precisely what I am doing.
It is therefore with some degree of trepidation that I'm sitting on a train to Plymouth to spend five days with Twelves Company, a charity whose main focus is to help those whose lives have been shattered by the impact of abuse when they were children.
I'm greeted at the station by Cheryl Ingram, one of the managers of Twelves Company and taken to their office in the heart of Devonport. The area is part of a regeneration zone to tackle years of neglect. At the end of the road a huge building is being demolished to make way for new flats and housing. I think to myself if only it could be as simple for the clients of Twelves Company to demolish the past and start afresh. But unfortunately it just isn't like that.
At Twelves Company I meet Martine Cotter the project director and my host for the week. Martine tells me of the personal toll that years of abuse has on its victims. Alcoholism, drug addiction, depression, unemployment, crime, prison, mental health institutions, suicide. It's a dark picture.
Cheryl produces some statistics based on some of the people they have helped. The average age when a male survivor experiences on-going and prolonged sexual abuse is just 9. Within 2 years of first being abused most have their first taste of drugs or alcohol. For many 11 years old is when they start a battle with addiction. By 14 years old criminal activity will be funding their habit.
And yet this is a place of calm and hope. The centre has 4 counsellors working to turn the lives of these deeply damaged people onto a more positive direction. There's been good news today. The charity has received a letter from Comic Relief to confirm a new line of funding for three years. The only shame is that Twelves Company found out before Christmas that another source of funding was being shut off, leading to the closure of a cafe run for the benefit of the local community with one redundancy - welcome to the real world of voluntary organisations and their continual battle to secure money to provide services. All the more striking when you think that Twelve's Company is just one of five charities nationally providing this specialist service and even though GPs, mental health consultants, social services and the Probation Service all refer people here for help. Against this backdrop the hand to mouth existence seems even more bizarre.
We walk about the centre. It feels welcoming, it feels comfortable, it feels safe. Martine comments that safety is something that is essential for the victims to feel able to confront some of the darkest moments in their lives. Safety too for the counsellors who have panic buttons with a hot line to the Police. In confronting their past Martine tells me that they have to confront their anger and their own feelings about their own self worth. Did I encourage it? Did I actually enjoy it? Was it my fault? I start to think about how much support is needed and how just much the survivors have suffered and continue to suffer even if the abuse itself has long ended. Cheryl offers another statistic - on average most male sexual abuse victims stay silent about their abuse for 19 1/2 years. Nearly two decades of silence with all of those emotions burning away inside. It's hardly surprising the lives of so many are such a mess.
We wrap up our initial introductions. I meet Becky Dent the new Independent Sexual Violence Advisor (ISVA) who has started work today. Becky is dealing not with historic abuse, but with current abuse. Rape. I'll be finding out more about Becky's work later in the week. Then I meet Nick the addiction counsellor. He's between clients and we talk about the impact of alcohol. He jokes of one client he has seen who complains about needing to ditch his crack cocaine habit but doesn't recognise that his regular downing of 10 pints of lager is a problem at all.
So much to take in already. And I've barely been here a few hours. This will be a long week and one that is likely to completely alter my perceptions.
Tuesday 6 February 2007
Picture: The shop front of Twelve's Company in Devonport, Plymouth
Today could have been one of utter despair and darkness. In fact it ends on a surprising note of optimism and hope.
This afternoon I will sit down with four of the survivors of violent sexual abuse. Four men who have started to face up to their childhood demons and create some greater stability in their lives.
The morning starts with further discussions with Martine and Cheryl about the Twelves Company operations. I discuss with Becky her previous work as a probation officer and the pressures on the Probation Service. We all go for a walk around the immediate area of Twelves Company's base in Devonport.
The area is changing significantly. Buildings are coming down. New houses are going up. Twelves Company itself will be on the move later this year with a new home in a converted vicarage which will offer space to grow. Whilst significant investment is going into the building work and the built environment you are still left with the feeling that the social problems are merely being displaced. Some families are being moved out to other areas of the City. Some of the Tower Blocks have been painted up on the outside but conditions inside remain pretty much unaltered. Is this a long term solution or is it just masking the problems?
On our return to Twelves Company we sit down to watch a recording of a Panorama programme on the case of William Goad the serial paedophile whose 40 years of abusing hundreds of young boys in Plymouth ultimately led to the establishment of "Operation Emotion" at Twelves Company. Martine tells me that in one year William Goad bragged that he had abused 149 different boys. It is scarcely imaginable.
The programme is a very powerful piece of television. It highlights the impact that Goad's abuse has had on three men. They are serial offenders, in and out of mental institutions and prisons. The mental scars are laid bare and it is difficult to fault the programme’s inference that if the three had not been abused they probably would not have gone onto a life of crime. The worst bit is when the television cameras follow one of the men to the Council offices to read the file Social Services had maintained on him as a boy. It reveals that the authorities knew that there was likelihood that he was being abused and that his mother was told. And yet nothing was done and the abuse continued.
Almost as soon as the tape ends one of the first survivors arrives to meet me. He is soon joined by three others. We sit around in a circle and I introduce myself and why I am here in Devonport. It is only later that I discover that for three of them it is the first time that they have sat down with other survivors of abuse and shared their experiences.
In turn they each explain the utter devastation that their childhood experiences have had on their lives. Alcoholism. In and out of borstal and then prison. Obsessive compulsive disorder. Violence to themselves and to others. Self loathing.
And yet you are struck with how articulate and intelligent each of them are. One tells how he was abused by his uncle and finds out years later that his older brother was also abused. Another tells how he thought he was coping until he had a son and it brought all of the memories back. One says how he used to drink and take drugs and get into trouble with the law because you keep on being bad if you've had bad things done to you. As one adds about self harm "If you've been abused all those years you get used to being abused and abusing yourself.” Each story is slightly different and yet horribly the same. The rape. The subsequent questions over their sexuality, the fear of how they would be viewed by other men, the nagging guilt that in some way that it was their fault or they were to blame. They weren't. They were abused. They were the victims. And yet recognising this is actually part of the healing process.
One disturbing aspect is that in all but one of the cases the abuse has been in the home or family environment. You begin to question simply how widespread the problem is and how many people continue to suffer in silence. As a parent, you question who you can actually trust.
The sheer financial cost to the state of picking up the pieces of childhood abuse is huge. Martine says that for one of the victims they had come to a figure of over £2 million factoring in court costs, prison costs, mental health costs and benefit claims for years of unemployment.
There is a further common theme. They all talk effusively about the work of Twelves Company and how it is a "life-saver". One of the men tells of how he is now running his own business. Something that would have been completely unimaginable before he started his counselling. Another tells how for the first time he can now wake up and feel that he is the same person for more than two days running.
It is difficult not to feel humbled. They have talked and talked and rather than being slightly reticent and cautious which was how I imagined they might be, they have put forward a powerful and compelling picture of the importance of the work undertaken here. It is therefore even more shocking to think that there are only four other organisations in the whole country seeking to provide some sort of support service for the survivors of childhood sexual abuse. So many fractured lives, so little help. The irony is that health workers are now being encouraged to ask patients whether they could have been abused. The problem is that there is virtually no support services if they say "yes".
One of the men says to Martine as he is leaving that he felt that the session had strengthened his own self belief and had helped him with his own challenges. If for nothing else, this meeting will have been worth it just for that alone.
Wednesday 7 February 2007
Picture: Becky Dent
Dealing with children suspected of being subject to sexual abuse is extremely sensitive and challenging work. Twelves Company engage an art therapist to help unlock some of their feelings and emotions and the best way for me to understand how effective this therapy can be is to get creative.
I can't quite remember the last time that I picked up a paint-brush other than as a result of an ill-judged attempt at DIY. However today Shellee, Twelves Company's Art Therapist, has me with paint brush in hand tasked with creating a picture of "my family". I come up with something that could probably pass for a picture my four year old daughter could have painted, but as Shellee says it will be A* whatever it looks like.
And that's the point. The art on one level is irrelevant. It's the chance for the children to express themselves in a different way and possibly to talk about how they feel whilst they are drawing or sticking or painting. But the pictures themselves can have important symbolism. Tall windowless castles and fierce animals at the start (reflecting the desire to keep people out) can give way to images that give an important insight into what a child is thinking and feeling. Some of the examples that Shellee shows give a remarkable window into the mind of a troubled child. It is not surprising that the service is in such demand.
The creative world of the morning gives way to a more grim and gritty reality in the afternoon. We visit a drop-in centre for Plymouth's sex workers in Mill Bay. The area could not be more depressing and run down. The drop-in is located down a dark and dank alley conjuring up all of the worst images of what a vice area might look like. The entrance is a large steel door opening into a cold dark corridor smelling of oil and burnt rubber associated with the adjacent car workshop which also provides a steady sound of low, thundering drilling.
And yet the centre itself is bright and welcoming. On the wall of one the rooms is some art-work from one of the users. It is bright and colourful, but this hides an undertone of violence and abuse in the images that are portrayed.
Tony, one of the counsellors paints a fairly grim picture to mirror the message conveyed by the art-work on the wall. Drug dependency fuels the need to work on the street. I'd like to say there was some hope here, but most of what we discussed was about harm reduction rather than an ability to provide a means for the girls to escape their appalling situation.
The service provides health screening, self protection advice, drug treatment and counselling and most importantly a place of safety. Yet criminal gangs from Liverpool and Manchester have moved in and the use of violence has increased and more organised pimping is being established. Around 60% of those screened have Hepatitis C. Most have significant mental health problems and are subjected to violence and abuse.
The workers here are realistic about what can be achieved and from what I heard and saw they are probably right in their assessment. However, it doesn't make it any less depressing or any less disturbing.
Thursday 8 February 2007
Picture: Martine Cotter in the upstairs art therapy room
Having gone through unimaginable trauma as a child, it takes a huge amount of courage to then re-live the appalling experience in a packed court room in surroundings you are unfamiliar with and with people you have never met before. It must feel a little bit like being a victim all over again. That’s why organisations like Victim Support are there to act as some form of bridge to get victims through the ordeal of the court process. That is who we are seeing today.
As we drive over, Martine explains that the experience of going through a trial is made harder by the fact that the counsellors have to step back from their work with the survivors for fear that the therapy might be seen as putting thoughts into people’s minds and influencing their perception of reality. She relays a situation where a survivor desperate for some support to get him through a trial tried to turn up at a drop-in session. After receiving advice from the police that his presence at the session could potentially jeopardize the trial, the survivor had to be taken off the premises.
Martine relays the story in a fairly calm way, but I think to myself that the situation can have been anything but calm, either for the survivor wanting some support or for those wanting to help but being prevented because of the likely legal consequences. Unsurprisingly child abuse victims who go through a trial are at a heightened risk of suicide immediately afterwards – either because of the trauma of having to re-live the abuse or because the conclusion of the process fails to bring the closure that they were seeking. I am told that if Twelves Company know that a trial is in process then they will be on hand to provide support almost immediately following the moment the jury are dispatched to the jury room to consider their verdict.
We arrive at Plymouth Magistrates Court and are shown to the offices of Victim Support. I say offices, but this is a slight mis-description. You couldn’t swing anything in that space let alone a cat. We are met by Carol Senior who is a warm, charming and kindly. You can imagine how she puts people at their ease when they arrive at Court. However this is despite her working conditions as her office is a virtual thoroughfare. She sits cramped behind a desk with her colleague opposite with a door facing her which is the main entrance. Leading down from this box room is a short corridor which then opens into a small waiting area that would seem cramped if it had little more than six people in it and has already more than exceeded this compliment. Despite all of the attention and support from the excellent volunteers and staff of Victim Support, I think to myself that it must be difficult trying to provide a calming environment in an unnaturally tense situation. Yet despite this Victim Support do a tremendous job.
Martine and I sit with our backs to the coat rack. A phone is perched on a filing cabinet next to where I have squeezed myself in. At regular intervals clerks or police officers come in to use the phone or gain access to the files in the cabinet. At various points I have to take evasive action to avoid someone’s backside being thrust into my face.
Yet despite all of this adversity Carol sets out the steps that Victim Support takes to give initial help within the community and then the practical steps that are taken to acclimatise a potential witness to the court and the trial process. We are shown court lists and I am startled by the number of sexual offences listed for trial. A number involve children. Carol explains that the NSPCC provides support to a number of the youngsters giving evidence and will often attend court with them as further back-up.
We had noticed as we arrived that a twelve year old boy had been called to give evidence via the video-link to the court room. He has just stormed out because of the aggressive questioning from one of the barristers. Carol explains that another child witness had been distraught the previous day because the video link had had some technical difficulties, with the result that she had been in the witness box virtually the whole day which had been a particularly harrowing experience. A further reminder (if we needed one) of how hard it is to go through the trial process.
The theme of partnership working is recurrent. It is clear that there is strong need for various organisations and agencies to do what they do best, whether it be Twelves Company, the NSPCC or Victim Support. The challenge is the co-ordination and fostering a genuinely collaborative approach. We talk about Becky’s appointment to the Twelves Company team as the new Independent Sexual Violence Advisor. One of the main obstacles that had to be overcome in establishing the post was to satisfy the various organisations and agencies that she would not act in competition with them. I suppose when you are all hunting in the same funding pot that when you are asked to back a new project you have to watch your back for fear that it may lead to your job being on the line. However, Victim Support did give their back the ISVA scheme and I am left in no doubt that they are looking forward to working with Becky.
The afternoon is spent back at Twelves Company where I have the opportunity to talk to Claire, one of the counsellors. I had spoken to Lindsay another counsellor the day before and Claire confirms what Lindsay had said then - that very few people decide to work in the field of child abuse because it is seen as the hardest area of practice. A brief conversation explains why. In order for the survivor to make progress they have to go back to the time that they were abused and in essence confront the issues that have been locked away for decades. Claire says that because this regression takes the survivor back to their childhood, they often speak, act and relate like a child. Claire gives an example of how the facial expressions of one of the survivors she counsels virtually becomes child-like when he is taken back to the time of abuse. Others are unable to express themselves in words, using pictures or shapes to relay their experiences. Some become highly aggressive, even frightening to the counsellor. I am reminded that each counsellor has a panic alarm to cover any potential risk. Apparently one of these alarms went off by mistake recently and before anyone knew it there were two police cars outside. At least this gives some reassurance to the counsellors about the likely response!
I ask about the impact on a counsellor of the things that the survivors tell them during a session. Claire says that at times it is extremely difficult and some of the stories that she has heard simply wanted to make her cry. But you can’t – at least not in the counselling session as this would destroy the relationship that the counsellor has with the person they are counselling. Each counsellor has an external supervisor whom they select and this person acts as a sounding board (possibly a screaming board in some cases) to ensure that the individual counsellor remains objective and receives any support that they may need in connection with a particular case. We joke that Claire doesn’t have a TV and doesn’t read the papers. With the stories she hears at work, I can understand why more bad news is the last thing Claire would want to hear or read when she gets home.
Friday 9th February 2007
Picture: Martine Cotter, Rt Hon Iain Duncan Smith MP and Cheryl Ingram at last June's CSJ Awards 2006, where Twelve's Company won a £4,000 Award in recognition of their poverty fighting work, tackling the causes of poverty
My last day in Plymouth starts in slightly more familiar surroundings to me. I have been invited onto the BBC Devon Breakfast Show to talk about my experiences with Twelves Company. I am grateful to the presenter Gordon Sparks for taking an even-handed approach to the subject matter and allowing me to set out what I have learnt and some of the themes I would be taking away with me without much intervention. We cover much of the ground in terms of the problems that some survivors have in leading a normal and fulfilling life after their childhood trauma and the real difference that support from organisations like Twelves Company can make in helping to turn lives around. There is a little light relief at the end of the interview as Gordon engages me in his “Breakfast Poker” Quiz by naming a celebrity I have met. I am judged as having a “full house” by relaying a story of meeting the late Richard Whitely in a lift and “counting down” the floors. The prize is a BBC Devon ‘Ugly Mug’ mug which I gratefully receive commenting that it will serve as a good reminder of my own ‘ugly mug’ each morning.
The rest of the morning is spent with the Police. First I meet the community sergeant who runs the Devonport team. He believes that they have helped to make a real difference in dealing with some of the crime and anti-social behaviour in the local area. He has a strong compliment of officers to deal with a 7,000 community and it sounds as if the local knowledge and presence is achieving some important results. As a fan of high visibility, community policing this comes as little surprise. But despite this, I sense that there is a little frustration at the courts not dealing with offenders firmly enough, particularly for breaches of ASBOs or where there has been a pattern of offending. This is a theme I have heard on many occasions before. There is also a question of the long term position of the local police. Funding comes in large part from the Devonport Regeneration Company which has an operational life span of ten years – and it is already half way through its time.
We leave the office and head onto the Community Support Unit where we meet up with Cheryl and Becky. The Community Support Unit is where victims who allege rape or abuse are taken for questioning and examination. The forensic side of sexual assault is a potentially crucial aspect in securing a conviction and this has to be done in a clinical way to preserve the evidence and ensure that its reliability cannot be questioned. Yet, the surroundings outside the “rape suite” are decorated in a warm and relaxing way with children’s pictures framed on the wall. It does seem as if care and thought has been taken in ensuring that the process of giving evidence to the police is undertaken in as comfortable a way as is possible given the likely traumatic circumstances. The need for counselling and support to be on hand in these difficult situations is compelling and some of the discussion centres on the possible establishment of a Sexual Assault Resource Centre (SARC) in Plymouth combining the investigative and support aspects in a joined up way and partnering the Police with external agencies.
The morning passes quickly as we discuss the issues surrounding establishing consent in rape cases and the need for clearer education for sixth formers and college students on what does or does not constitute consent in a sexual relationship. I will be fascinated to see how Becky’s role as the Independent Sexual Violence Adviser progresses in the weeks ahead. It is a big challenge with a limited time period to show results (just six months), but it certainly seems as if the will is there amongst the relevant stakeholders in Plymouth to make the role work.
We conclude with the Police and before I know it, I have said goodbye to the Twelves Company Team having promised a reverse job-swap in Westminster and I am back on board an Inter-City 125 as it rumbles out of Plymouth Station bound for London. As I gaze out of the window as the suburbs of Plymouth give way to the green landscape of the Devon countryside, I reflect on the experiences of the last few days. A huge amount to take in, a huge amount to think about and a huge amount to do. At times disturbing, uncomfortable, unsettling yet at others uplifting – a real mixture of emotions and feelings. I hope that my visit has been positive to give rightful recognition to the impressive work of Twelves Company who have been patient and tremendously supportive hosts.
It has been a privilege to have spent time with Martine Cotter, Cheryl Ingram, Becky Dent and everyone else at Twelves Company. It has been an education to me and one that I am determined to use to best effect.
Links
www.twelvescompany.org.uk
Video introduction to Twelves Company
