‘Which are the good ones?’ Len gingerly picks through the picture books I’ve placed in front of him. The rest of the group sense a shortcut and stop sifting their own book piles.
‘You just need to look through them. Choose one you like.’ I keep my voice light. I want them to see this as fun, not a chore. To me, choosing a picture book means five or ten minutes max. The group act as if it’s going to take them hours. They fan out the slim books, unsure how to begin.
‘Why don’t you just tell us which are best? That would make it quicker.’ Marco gives me his just-trying-to-help face.
‘You have to decide for yourself.’
They look at me. In truth, they’re not trying to skive, they just want a clear answer. Because there has to be answer. There has to be a ‘best book’.
‘Listen,’ I pick a book from the top of the pile near Len and sit on the floor. The group remain on their chairs, watching me curiously.

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I read Fizz the Fire Engine out loud to this group of addicts, thieves, fraudsters, drug dealers, and villains. I read it the way I read it to my son when he was barely walking, and this was his favourite book. It’s a quick story, even with all the sound effects, and as I’m reading I’m aware (because you need to be aware of your audience) of their nervous looks, their smirks and grins at my expense but also that they GOT the story, that they GOT the point of enjoying yourself, of throwing yourself into something as small and as vital as story for your child. Reading with your children isn’t a chore, it’s a gift.

Safeground’s Fathers Inside is a parenting course for men in prison. We cover parental rights, choices, dealing with your children’s schoolwork – everything, which includes reading with your kids. The five-week course is intensive and challenging, made doubly so by the fact that we use drama in every session. The men create scenarios where they tell the truth, where they role-play stories because that’s how we learn. It asks an awful lot of them in a place where honesty is rarely rewarded. They get stick for coming to courses such as this. It’s not a parent-friendly environment. Parenting? What you need that for? What’s wrong with you?
The group appreciate the different space Fathers Inside gives them.
‘We can leave all that shit on the wing,’ they say, despite my often having to cajole them back from discussing ‘wing shit’.
‘Here we can be ourselves. We’re all dads.’ Marco looks around the room. ‘That’s what we have in common. Before this I would have walked on by if he (he nods at Len) were getting trouble. Now I’ve got his back.’ He grins ‘We’d even help you, Davo.’
In the class they can see themselves and each other as fathers and individuals rather than other men caught in the same trap. Part of the value of the course is to remind the men of that other identity, help them strengthen it as only then will they be able to resist the offender label, and all its harmful negativity, which is the bedrock of prison life.

The big carrot for the course is a family day where they put on a performance for their families. There is much excitement that they will get five hours with their families, twice as long as a normal visit. This is also a source of stress. Knowing that your family and your relationship with them will be on view: this can unravel some of the stories the men tell about themselves. One man, right from the start, tells us just what a fabulous dad he is, how much he loves his kids, how much he does for them but as we get closer to the performance he has to acknowledge that nobody is coming to see him. To his credit he carries on playing his part so the performance can continue. Len, who has a three-month-old son, tells me that he would also like to contact his children from a previous relationship.

The men’s wives and partners rarely work. This can appear conservative, for all their wild drug tales the men want to keep traditional male and female roles. And yet they have never, not a single one, raised a hand to their children. Partly this is because so much of the childcare is left to their partners; they prefer to be the one who brings fun and toys. It is also because so many remember being beaten by their fathers (and mothers). Traditional, and yet they can confound my expectations. When one man said he would never read to his children as that was ‘a woman’s job’, the group freeze him out.

The group discuss how hard it is to keep family contact going. ‘Sometimes you just don’t want to see them, you know.’
‘Gotta do your own time’ – nods Zen-Bobby who misses one session a week to attend meditation. This helps with his temper though Zen-Bobby is adamant that he has no problem dealing with prison. ‘Sleep your way through. 23hr bang-up? Lovely. You go into a kind of trance. When they let you out of the cell properly a whole week might have gone by.’
For these men it is one thing to do your time. Most accept this. It is something that must be got through, slept through, something to drug yourself through, fight and paranoia yourself through. Being conscious of your family on the outside, of being helpless to help them, of not being the provider: that is hard. Too hard for many. Fathers Inside offers different ways in which they can maintain relationships.

Back to the books. ‘This is a bit near.’ Marco holds up When Dad was Away (Liz Weir/Karin Littlewood). Len has got Visiting Day (Jacqueline Woodson/James E Ransome).

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Both books are about families who have a father in prison
‘Fuck. I never knew there were books like this.’
Freddie takes the book. Freddie copies out the whole book and adds drawings of his own for his own children. One of the drug dealers reveals a life long love of Dr Seuss. We show them books that help dyslexics, books that deal with all kinds of issues such as loss, moving house, worries etc.

‘I never realised books were more than stories. That when I read to my kids we’re also learning about each other,’ says John with genuine wonder.

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John loves Dinkin Dings (Guy Bass). ‘Can I borrow it? ‘John is a habitual thief: sellatape, pens, paper vanish when he’s in the room. I never see him do it. But if I ask for items to be returned he will unashamedly bring them back. ‘Didn’t think they were important.’
Dinkin Dings will not come back but I want to believe he will read it down the phone to his son. The phones, the over-expensive, non-private phones where everyone’s family drama is broadcast down the wing.

On the day of the performance the group are excited. It’s the big day and they are also terrified.
‘You have no idea how scary this is for us.’
It goes well. Each family get a gift bag with books from Give A Book, a charity that supports many book-gifting projects inside and outside prison

That’s a long time they say with both apprehension and satisfaction. ‘I don’t think I spent that long with my kids before.’ If you’re out working or dealing it tends to take you away from your families. On the day the families love the performance, and mingle. They sit in couples, hands in hand (forbidden on usual visits) baby asleep on a blanket.

A long visit is something that they have all looked forward to but it’s also a long time to sit with people who inhabit a different world. Families also have long journeys. One family arrive hours early because of the trains. Others have to start back with tired and hungry children.

At the end only two of our group are still sitting with their families.
I’m enjoying watching Len and Marco with their babies. Len will be back on building sites soon, minding his temper. He seems happy and when his girlfriend goes to get a cup of tea, he is looking after his three-month-old baby. The baby isn’t immediately impressed and keeps looking around for his mother. I watch Len to see if he will wait for his girlfriend to return. The baby is grizzling now but Len’s still smiling as he reaches into the book bag and pulls out a book. His baby son looks curious before resuming his grizzling, twisting round in the direction his mother took. Len picks up his son, places him on his knee, balances the book and begins to read.

* All names have been changed