The other night I had a memorable and beautiful dream. This is unusual because most of my dreams are unpleasant and involve me getting fired from jobs or dying. The nice dream involved me flying over the Australian desert landscape. It went on for ages, and it was stunning. Flying dreams are pretty rare for me. In fact, I remember the one I had before this one. I remember it distinctly and I remember what date it was. It was 2 September 1994, and I was in jail for what would be the first of many visits to Her majesty’s hotel. I was in the police watchhouse, with two other prisoners. It was my first night as a prisoner. The cells were cold and uncomfortable. I finally went to sleep and had this beautiful flying dream. I was flying over the mountains where I grew up. It was transcendent. And then I was woken up by a police officer yelling at us to wake up. This was a pretty memorable experience, mostly for negative reasons.
I suspect that a lot of people doubt that I was a prisoner. I am nice and respectful and do impressive stuff and so forth. However, I can assure you that I was a prisoner between 1994-2000. I consider myself a highly ethical person with a highly unethical past. People often tell me that my ‘interesting’ history is an important part of me and I should embrace it. However, from my perspective, this is complicated. Yes, my past is obviously part of what makes me who I am, but it is not something to be proud of. I was not a political prisoner, I was a criminal. While my incarceration was definitely a justice response to a mental health issue, I did have agency and choice and I made some very unhelpful decisions, some of which involved victimising people. I was aggressive and self-destructive. I made very poor choices and had no sense of responsibility. So yes, complicated.
My experience does highlight a significant issue though – that of people with disability and psychosocial disability ending up in jail because there is no other place for them. When I used to go to court my lawyer, the wonderful Vince, would show the magistrate photos of my art. The magistrate would look at these and invariably say, “I don’t want to send this person to jail but there is no alternative”. Sadly, I think this is true now for others in similar circumstances to me, thirty years later.
Prisoners tend to be invisible. Out of sight out of mind. We also live in a society which likes to feel that criminals are being adequately punished. Actually, the purpose of prison is meant to be rehabilitation not publishment, meaning people should leave ‘reformed’. As a former prisoner I can attest that this is rarely the case and prison breeds prison.
I have never been judgemental about crime. I obviously don’t condone it, but I do understand that people do things for a reason. Autistic people can end up in jail for a number of reasons. They can be coerced into criminal behaviour by others; they can be traumatised by bullying and abuse and fight back. In my case I first got in trouble because I had a criminal partner and I became afraid of him when I realised what he was up to, felt I couldn’t leave him and so committed crimes with him. After that I became institutionalised and struggled to live in the outside world.
I have actually spent 10 years of my life in institutions – prisons, psychiatric hospitals and mental health residential services. It is a temptation to be in an institution. There is no responsibility, you don’t have to worry about buying food or paying a mortgage or rent. Even now, thrity years after being in jail, I think that being in residential mental health care is tempting, especially when I am unwell. These days I am highly responsible and I don’t think there is much risk of me going back to institutions but that pull can be strong, especially if life is very difficult and you feel out of control.
One thing about my journey which is surprising is how little resistance I have experienced in accessing things like employment and study. I have never been refused a job due to my criminal history – although for some of my jobs I have had to answer quite a few questions about my history! My police check always comes back clear due to the age of my convictions and I have held a security clearance in the past. I have a social media friend in the USA who is an African American ex-prisoner. He said how surprised he was that I could get a professional job because in America I would not be able to. I am not sure if this is a cultural difference or a racism issue or a combination, but it does make me reflect on how fortunate I am to live in Australia. Although I think a lot of ex-prisoners in Australia can have issues finding work too. I have the benefit of not looking like a stereotype of what people think a criminal ‘looks like’ which I think makes a difference in this space – and this makes me sad to be human! That first impression assumption can be an issue and can compound exclusion.
I was actually diagnosed as autistic shortly after I went to jail in 1994. The clinician who diagnosed me came in to visit me three times to do the assessment. I have spoken with her since, and she said it was a bit daunting going to jail, even as a visitor! She also said she realised that she needed to be honest and up front with me to gain my trust. I treasure that statement because I don’t remember what I was like then and it gives me a window into my past. Obviously, I was me, but I was a different version of me. I do reflect on that time as formative. Very unpleasant but formative.
And I hope I don’t have to wait another 32 years for another flying dream!









