This is an article I wrote for DOPE magazine on prisoner letter writing. To write for DOPE magazine, which has had a lot of people who I deeply admire and respect write for it, means a lot to me. It also means a lot to write about something I have tried to dedicate a lot of time too. No doubt some people who know me will be quite bored of my prisoner writing talk, but it means a lot to spread that knowledge and get people to show more solidarity with prisoners – especially with the current crackdown against protestors and activists (and even those outside of those categories). This is the shortest of short introductions, if you want to learn more, come along to an NEAG prisoner writing talk!
I also want to use this space to talk a little about suicide, both as a reflection and as a public note to myself. This seems an appropriate space to talk about it to me for two reasons. First, suicide amongst prisoners is exceptionally high and usually even more horrific due to how its enabled by the state. A lot has been written on it, but I think this recent (ish) article here does a great deal to sum up how awful the issue is. Second, writing it here helps me to position my own thoughts in a grander context, regardless of my own mental health issues – there is much worse to experience and endure, and remembering that privilege is important to me. Further, considering suicide prevention day has just passed, it seems a good time as well to post a short paragraph in the spirit of the above.
Having struggled with mental health issues for over a decade, I have went through ups and downs. My biggest down prior to recently was probably in 2022, where whilst very drunk I stepped onto the railings over the River Wear, and genuinely considered falling in because of how i felt about myself, my actions towards others that was unfair and hurting them, and the pain I felt I was in. I didn’t, and I never really know if it was a serious consideration, but it happened. More recently, under better circumstances, I decided that drinking again was a good and healthy thing to do. Considering the recent steep decline in my mental health, and knowing how much of a trigger it is for me, it was a terrible idea to continue. This once again, annoyingly poetically, lead to a repeat of history in which I drank, which exasperated my own darkest thoughts, and I made mistakes and misjudgments which hurt my friends and loved ones, and I, for the second time in my life, seriously considered doing the unthinkable. Again, I don’t really know if it was a serious consideration, but it felt like it at the time. I’m not saying this for sympathy, or as an excuse for myself or anything I have done to others, or even to try and make myself feel better. It is simply to try and make it a bit more normal for myself to talk about this openly, and to also have a permanent public reminder that, quite frankly, I need to take serious steps to get better, because regardless of my own issues, if it effects others in my life that is on me – especially since (unlike prisoners) I have the privilege to do so. I do not want to hurt others and myself with my own pain that I seemingly cannot take seriously steps to fix (which sure, is a symptom of things such as depression – a lack of motivation, but still). This reflection is for that, and I hope those who read this who have suffered similar things can gain something from it. I also want to write about how I feel (you can see my about page here for a bit more on that), and I think vulnerability in writing is important, so this is a small way for me to try and overcome that fear slightly – by posting this.
Anyway, enjoy the article! (what you are actually here for), and you can read the original online HERE. Or, pick up a physical copy of DOPE from a vendor or by subscribing, they do amazing things.
I also have an instagram now! It’s linked at the bottom of the webpage ❤
WHY
In an era marked by using social media and instant messaging to talk to each other, there is something quite beautiful about sitting with a group of people writing letters. What makes it even more beautiful and important is that we are writing to prisoners.
More specifically, we are writing to prisoners imprisoned for taking political action (I hesitate to refer to them as political prisoners, because for me all prisoners are political prisoners). They have been detained for a wide variety of reasons and causes. We mainly write to prisoners in this country, but some are international.
It’s more important now than ever to continue to write to prisoners of this kind. Whether it’s climate activists being given several-year-long sentences or pro-Palestinian prisoners, protest, in all its forms, is being increasingly policed and repressed. Fighting for a better world—a world free of genocide, ecological collapse, and the destructive forces of the state and capital—has always led to state repression. Still, it seems to be an even more frequent occurrence in recent years.
This increase in repression is coupled with the recent overcrowding crisis in prisons. Prisons are at breaking point (and not in a good way). This means that prisoners suffer even more than usual as the system further neglects them. Considering the already high rates of suicide and self-harm in prisons, seeing more neglect towards prisoners is a worrying and tragic development. In short, writing to those on the inside is a way to show some solidarity. Although a small act, it can make a huge difference by showing them that their actions against injustice are not forgotten and that they are supported by friends and strangers alike.
For the organisers reading this, prisoner writing is also something that can be easily planned, organised regularly, requires minimum resources, has a very low barrier of knowledge for entry, and only requires a small public space that usually doesn’t even need booking (such as a table in a cafe or pub). In short it is a perfect recipe for getting new people involved in your group or movement. As the famous saying goes: they are in there for us, so we have to be out here for them.
HOW
Understandably, people are unsure where to start when writing to prisoners, especially prisoners imprisoned for political activity. Comprehensive advice would be too much for these pages, so this article only serves as an overview and brief introduction. For more information online, Bristol Anarchist Black Cross has a wealth of information on this subject and also maintains a comprehensive list of current prisoners. To be as clear as possible, I will focus on writing to UK prisoners.
It’s worth saying that you can email prisoners instead of writing to them by hand. This can increase the chances of a message getting to the prisoner, and it is easier to receive replies from them. Unfortunately, this method requires a lot of your personal information alongside a bank account. It is also more expensive than handwriting, depending on a few factors. I also find it slightly less meaningful than handwriting a letter, but I leave this decision up to you.
Before you begin writing the actual letter, ensure you have the prisoner’s full name and prisoner number (prisoners in the North of Ireland (NI) may not have prisoner numbers, but the rest of the UK will) as well as the full address of the prison they are held in. This should be written on the front of the envelope. On the back of the envelope, make sure to write a full name and a return address. Whether you use a pseudonym or your real name is up to you, but I recommend reading the article by Kevan Thakrar in DOPE Magazine issue 22 (which can be found online) before you decide.
Regarding the actual letter, make sure you put your return address on it (the prisoner doesn’t get the envelope), and then get writing. Here are a few brief pointers. This list is not exhaustive and by no means absolute rules:
Do:
- Keep it short—remember, you are a stranger to them. One side of A4 is a good guideline for a first letter.
- Express solidarity, but don’t martyr or deify them; they are fellow humans—don’t lay it on too thick, basically.
- Write in a ‘small-talk’ fashion: Talk about the weather, your hobbies and interests, ask them if they are okay, if they are doing any education or hobbies, etc.
- If it’s safe, update them on your activism/actions and the scene more broadly, and keep them connected to the movement.
- If you can find a bio or information about them, write to them about what it mentions (such as their interests.)
Don’t:
- Incriminate them (especially if they are protesting their innocence).
- Incriminate yourself.
- Send them ‘anti-police’ phrases, symbols, or anything similar (the prison will read every letter you send).
Regardless of whether you get a reply (which can be affected by numerous factors), former prisoners report that they always read the letters they get, and they are always appreciated, so even if you aren’t getting replies—keep sending them! Most importantly, if you do get a reply, reply back. You now have a new friend. Take photos of the letters you send so you can remember what you originally wrote to them.
You now have all you need to write to prisoners. Grab some paper, pens, envelopes, and stamps, either alone or with friends, and get started. Spend a lovely afternoon together, showing a little solidarity. Solidarity often starts small, and it has to start somewhere, and this is an excellent place to start.
Don Brookes - Writings 