Introducing 'Fine Cell Work'

In this blog, we invesitgate the therapeutic effects of stitching. There can be no doubt that that this pastime can contribute to a happier, calmer and more contented life for everyone. However, there is now evidence to show that stitching can benefit the community through rehabilitative effects to prisoner programmes in the UK.

Fine Cell Work provides materials and volunteer instructors to enable prisoners to learn and do embroidery in their cells. The results are  cushions, quilts, rugs and tapestries which are of the highest quality and design and in great demand. Prisoners are allowed to keep some of the proceeds, to spend inside, or for when they complete their sentences.

More than 400 jailed stitchers, 80 per cent of them male, are currently involved in this work. The real value of this charity, however, is not measured in cash or stitches, but in the therapeutic effects on some of the toughest criminals in the penal system, according to a recent investigation by The Times newspaper. The newspaper quotes the words of KR,  a prisoner and a hardened man. His builder’s hands do not look appropriate for the delicate, intricate task of needlework. Before his prison sentence, those hands were principally employed in drinking and fighting. He admitted   ‘My whole lifestyle was a route to prison. I used to drink a lot. I was unfaithful a lot. I wasn’t a good person. I learned to shut down my emotions and feelings.’KR  calculated that he drank an average of 110 pints a week for ten years. In 2001, he was convicted of a violent crime and sentenced to 12 years’ imprisonment.

In Maidstone prison, he was introduced to Fine Cell Work and picked up a needle and thread for the first time in his life. The meditative, repetitive effort of sewing intricate patterns offered him a sort of peace he had never found before. ‘It took me six weeks to make my first cushion, working eight hours a day. It seemed to take forever. In the time I spent doing six inches of cushion I could double-glaze your house, and the conservatory. I completed something I didn’t think I’d ever do.’

Needlework gave him time to reflect, a mental escape from clanging cell doors, confinement and constant surveillance.

Other inmates followed KR's example and he found himself giving lessons on sewing techniques. The prison authorities allowed him to keep supplies of wool and needles in his cell. New recruits would sometimes be mocked and bullied for “doing women’s work”, but not for long.

Prison authorities contend that the concentration and hard work required and the small financial gains give prisoners an increased sense of self worth. Wardens approve because sewing reduces stress and requires no supervision.

The idea of encouraging prisoners to sew is not new, but for most of the past two centuries the most attractive item a prisoner would ever sew was a mail bag.

KR believes that his early release was due in part to his commitment to needlework. ‘It helped me sort my life out. I came out a calmer, better person. I don’t want to drink.’ He is working as a double-glazer, seeing his children — and still sewing.

There is an old saying: ‘When life throws you scraps, make a quilt.’ That is essentially what Fine Cell Work achieves, by helping prisoners such as KR to piece together torn-up lives, one stitch at a time.