EQUALITY IN EDUCATION: Many prisoners only become aware of their literacy problems when they are sentenced and letter-writing and reading skills take on a new importance. Anne Byrne reports on some of our most educationally-disadvantaged citizens

'I walked to the walls they were all about./I walked to the window but couldn't see out./So I climbed in my head and left myself out."

Tony Clancy, Limerick Prison.

Another Place, an anthology of prison writing published by the Department of Justice last year, shows the importance words, stories, poems, books and letters assume in the lives of many prisoners.

However, what you might not realise reading the often-poignant prose, is that the majority of prisoners are casualties of disadvantage, lacking basic literacy and numeracy skills.

The statistics are more revealing in this respect. In Wheatfield Prison in west Dublin, which has a current population of 371 prisoners, 2.4 per cent never attended school, 36.3 per cent went only to primary school, 36.3 per cent attend first year in second level (typically for a few weeks), 12.9 per cent attended second year in second level (typically not completed). Only 16.1 per cent sat the Junior Cert, with 4.8 per cent having sat the Leaving Certificate.

The prisoners span the ages 17 to 70, but the majority fit into a relatively homogenous group, consisting mainly of young men from urban backgrounds, who are relatively disadvantaged in socio-economic terms.

In a paper on literacy work in Wheatfield published last year, Mary Kett, former principal teacher there notes: "It was clear that many only became aware of their literacy problems when they were sentenced... many specifically mentioned letter writing and official letters of request to the Governor. Others said that literacy problems increased the tension and frustration of prison life... There was a striking difference between the number of those who had sought help outside of prison, as opposed to inside: only 12 per cent compared with 67 per cent."

Prison education is provided by the vocational education committees (VECs) in partnership with the Department of Justice. It is voluntary and programmes are tailored to meet the needs of individuals. However, facilities vary, with the newer prisons having purpose-built education units. The older prisons may have ad-hoc education accommodation and waiting lists.

Bonnie Magrath, the principal teacher in Wheatfield, which has a purpose-built unit attended by some 230 prisoners at any one time, says there is some evidence of prisoners working their way through the system to access Wheatfield's education unit.

In Wheatfield, there are 23 teachers, some full-time and some teaching in other Dublin prison education units also. Up to 500 prisoners are interviewed and timetabled in the course of any one year.

Timetabling is a nightmare, as students decide which subjects they want to study and they can change their minds as often as they like, until they find an area of interest. Many students require one-to-one teaching as they failed previously in group situations.

The curriculum includes creative arts, health and social education, information technology, literacy, as well as FETAC modules and State certificate subjects.

Since 1995, a total of 223 students have sat the Junior or Leaving Cert exams in Wheatfield, while, since 1999, 237 students have successfully completed 540 FETAC modules. There are currently 17 students studying Open University degree and diploma courses.

Vincent Sammon, head of the prison education service with the City of Dublin VEC, says the Open University was introduced in this State specifically for prisoners, and, for a time, the only way to access its courses was to be behind bars.

While State and college exams are indicators of achievement, the real success is less easily quantified as it involves helping students deal with reading, writing and arithmetic difficulties.

Some of the men behind the statistics at Wheatfield prison spoke to EL recently.

John, in his 50s, says: "I went to an all-Irish school and left at 13, with no education whatsoever. I taught myself to read using comics. If you had asked me to write a letter for a million pounds, I would have had to tell you to keep the million. It's an awful thing to have to come to prison to get your chance. I was ashamed to come down to the education unit. My hands used to be soaking with sweat, but I found the teachers very understanding."

Matt, in his early 30s, says: "The first school I went to was a Christian Brothers'. I got kicked out. I never did any exams at secondary. I got a job and left to do my bit for the national economy (he laughs). I never achieved anything."

In five years in prison, Matt had completed eight modules of the FETAC foundation certificate as well as two Junior Cert exams. He is sitting English and geography in the Leaving Cert this summer and hopes to enrol with the OU in development studies. "The higher you go, the higher you want to go," he says.

All of the group are appreciative of the open learning centre, where they can access computers. "There's always a teacher available. It mightn't be their subject, but they always try to help out. Sometimes, they give us a cup of tea, biscuits or a cigarette."

Sean, in his 20s, says he has a very short attention span. "Doing the Leaving Cert and ECDL has added to my confidence. I'm very glad I came back to school."

There is talk of the dramas they have been doing and how difficult Elizabethan English can be, of computers and multimedia software, of exams and how useful qualifications will be when they get out.

All names of prisoners have been changed to protect their identity.