Scarred and defiant - Damien Linnane’s journey to redemption
How can we rethink justice in Australia? For some, it’s about punishment; for others, it’s about creating opportunities for growth and redemption.
Our sociopolitical scene has been bedevilled by bouts of unbridled and enthusiastic retributive approaches when it comes to dealing with real or perceived offenders. Recent Queensland and Northern Territory legislative measures, while cloaked in rehabilitative intent, seem to follow exactly the populist agenda of severe punishment regardless of the underlying circumstances and causes.
The desire to punish offenders by isolating them from society is understandable as it reduces further risk to the community at least until prisoners are released, but prioritising incarceration over rehabilitation increases the risk of re-offending. Our myopia is difficult to understand as, ultimately, we all bear the economic and societal cost.
The statistics clearly show that a substantial proportion of incarcerated people were victims of trauma prior to their offending, often in their childhood. Parental neglect and abuse are well known to cause significant damage to young people and the effects of traumatic experiences are very difficult to overcome.
Insufficient mental health services compound the problem as people are unable to defuse their internal struggles, and antisocial, violent and criminal behaviours often follow with consequent incarceration. The circle is then completed by the correctional services that primarily focus on prisoner isolation and punishment rather than rehabilitation of the offenders.
It is not surprising that the rates of recidivism in Australia are substantial, with over 40% of released prisoners returning to jail within two years. This is perhaps the strongest indication of the failure to implement effective crime prevention and mitigation strategies. The changes needed to address this problem are complex, will take time and won’t be easy, but finding a way to connect with prisoners, enabling them to undertake a deeply personal and undoubtedly painful process of psychological reconstruction, is essential. Art and creativity could become tools with a profound impact on reshaping the life trajectories of incarcerated people.
From trauma to triumph
Damien Linnane, activist, author and artist, has been through this cycle of abuse, trauma and incarceration, but emerged with a new perspective and self-respect that have led him to become a dedicated advocate for other prisoners. He is now Editor-in-chief of the art magazine Paper Chained, funded by the Community Restorative Centre, which provides a variety of services for people in prisons. Damien’s story is remarkable because it is a triumph of understanding and compassion over the legacy of childhood trauma. The road to this was certainly not easy as he struggled trying to define his place in the world through dysfunctional relationships, gang affiliation and military service.
With his custodial sentence of 2 years and a non-parole period of 10 months came a time for self-reflection and discovery. One of his discoveries was a realisation that prison was not equipped to “…address the cause of [his] offending” and provide necessary mental health treatment, especially given the denial of Medicare access to prisoners. The legal framework excluding prisoners from Medicare benefits is rooted in federal legislation, specifically Section 19(2) of the Health Insurance Act 1973, and is reinforced by the division of responsibilities between federal and state governments in Australia. The system could not cater to his personal development, such as pursuing higher education, either.
Facing mind-numbing time behind bars, marked by developing depression, Damien turned to creative endeavours that proved to be his liberation – a “survival mechanism” as he said “there was nothing constructive given to us to do”. He wrote short stories then conceived and wrote a thriller novel, Scarred, that reflected some of his own experiences and which was published in 2019 by Tenth Street Press. He also discovered a talent for drawing that enabled him to participate in several solo and group art exhibitions, and subsequent publication of his hyper-realistic drawings of public figures in an illustrated book This is Ear Hustle (Penguin House, 2021) now also in a podcast format.
The dream job
Damien is now completing a PhD through Newcastle Law School at the University of Newcastle, while simultaneously working as the editor of the magazine Paper Chained – certainly a lot on his plate. Joining the magazine wasn’t an accident – it was a deliberate step to try to turn his own imprisonment into something that could help others in a similar situation. It was also a form of self-therapy that helped Damien improve his own mental health.
In 2021 he took over the running of Paper Chained only to discover financial realities that can sink any project. He was able to secure funding through the Community Restorative Centre that permitted production of quarterly editions. Editing the magazine has turned out to be Damien’s “dream job”. How does it work?
Damien says “I absolutely love working on it. I get letters all the time from people inside telling me how much the magazine improves their mental health. Almost everyone who sends me art and writing has never had their work published anywhere before.” The philosophy behind Paper Chained is simple enough – provide a creative outlet for people in prisons so they can start rebuilding their mental health while actually enjoying the process.
Paper Chained welcomes contributions from prisoners, ex-prisoners and family members of prisoners as well as from people supportive of prison reform, with the main focus on writing and graphic art creations also accepted. Hard copies of the journal are distributed to prisoners for free, and a web version can be accessed through the magazine homepage.
For some it will provide a means to reflect on their lives and distraction from the brutal banality of prison life. For others it will become an instrument to combat depression and isolation that inevitably accompany incarceration, and to connect with others. Lack of contact with family and friends, missing out on both simple and profound or weighty aspects of life can have a crushing effect on prisoners and hamper their reintegration into the community.
Damien has managed to understand this - he opened his heart to other inmates and is helping them to explore their own lives and minds by marshalling their own, individual creativity. That freedom of expression may, in the long run, be more valuable than the punishment itself in reforming their thinking. It allows them an ounce of self-reflection - that difficult task we often evade - which can have profound effects on rebuilding lives that have been shattered by an error of judgement, pre-existing trauma or circumstances.
There is a growing body of evidence supporting the introduction of art programs into prison systems, but discussions continue about best ways to use creativity in prison environments and there is no universal agreement about the value of such initiatives. In fact, the primary focus is on housing prisoners instead of rehabilitating them.
Progress is slow, however, and in some jurisdictions this has even been reversed. For instance, legislative changes in Queensland have meant that prisoners were denied income from their art — a form of punishment that disproportionately targeted Indigenous inmates and further limited their potential rehabilitation.
Paper Chained has not exactly had an easy run, facing financial problems as well as obstacles to distribution amongst inmates, but Damien’s determination has kept it afloat and made a valuable contribution to many prisoners’ wellbeing. His work shows how complementary approaches, exemplified by collaboration with the Community Restorative Centre charity, can make a significant difference to the incarcerated people. He plans to expand the scope of activities and the reach of the magazine to a wider range of prisons to help more people.
The next big battle is to build momentum for securing Medicare benefits for prisoners that would enable provision of mental health services that are so desperately needed by many inmates.
Perhaps Damien’s own words convey this in the best way:
“I'd like to think I’m on my way to making the changes I'd like to see in the world, from within the limited things I am actually able to make real change on. Medicare in prisons is not going to be a silver bullet that fixes the systemic issues surrounding healthcare in custody, so unfortunately, there'll be plenty more battles to be fought even if I'm successful in that campaign.”