Her toughest call

CONSIDERING she has worked in some of the toughest prisons in Britain, you might think Dawn Elaine's latest job would be easy. It isn't. Dawn Elaine is the new governor of Askham Grange, an open prison for women which nestles in the picturesque village of Askham Richard, just outside York.

But despite being a veteran of harsh men's institutions such as Wormwood Scrubs and Full Sutton, she says Askham Grange presents her toughest challenge yet.

Forget the phrase "open prison" for a moment. It can create the impression of a genteel community where nobody has to bother very much. After all, that renowned hard-nut Jeffrey Archer is in one.

Not so. Open prisons, particularly those which house women, have a singular challenge.

"Women's prisons are far more complex than male prisons," she says.

"Women have such complex needs, which become more critical as a result of custody."

Prison, she says, is a more difficult experience for a woman than a man. Mental health problems are much more common in women's prisons, and often, the inmate has to deal with being parted from her children. Askham Grange can accommodate babies up to the age of 18 months; after that, they must be handed to the other parent, a guardian, or a local authority.

That wrench has an emotionally crippling effect on a mother, creating hard work for the staff whose mission it is to rehabilitate her.

"It can't be about straightforward rules and regulations," she says. "Not when you're dealing with, say, a pregnant 16-year-old, or someone who's got a one-year-old baby outside and doesn't know how well they are being cared for."

We are sitting in the governor's well-appointed but modest office in this former mansion house, where large windows overlook a broad spread of serene York countryside.

Askham Grange holds roughly 140 prisoners, including around 13 "lifers" and a handful of young offenders.

In her office, Dawn Elaine is reflecting on the task ahead of her as, aged 34, she spends her third week as the prison's governor. Her manner is soft-spoken and assured, and it never changes, whether she is talking to inmates (who are known as "residents"), her colleagues, or the press.

She is the first woman in many decades to head up Askham Grange, but there is a precedent. The prison's first governor, back in 1947, was a woman.

"The Prison Service is still predominantly a male environment," she tells me.

"But it is not an environment which is restrictive towards the progression of female managers. The service has worked hard to encourage women governors into women's prisons over the years."

She is full of praise for her team, including deputy governor Andy Barber, and for her predecessor, Ian Simmonds. Indeed, one of her first acts as governor was to defend the prison from a report which attacked some elements of its services, based on an inspection of the previous regime.

Miss Elaine declares she has "fallen in love" with York, and says she is committed to spending a long time here. After all, it's a bit different from her home town, the quiet North Welsh hamlet of St Asaph.

She is at the peak of a 12-year journey through the Prison Service, beginning in 1990 as an officer at Feltham Young Offenders' Institution in West London. She was quickly fast-tracked into management, and progressed through Wormwood Scrubs, Holloway, Full Sutton and Brockhill, in Redditch.

The romance with York began when she worked as Head of Residents at Full Sutton, the maximum security men's prison near Stamford Bridge. Between there and here, she went to Brockhill to serve as Acting Governor, but she continued living in York throughout.

It was also at Full Sutton that she met her partner, Adrian, who now works at Wetherby YOI. She refers to him, and his son, Ben, as her "extended adopted family".

She smiles. "I've no intention for this to be a short governorship."

Her immediate mission is to supervise the prison's transition from the old-style system, which conducted all rehabilitation in-house, to the newer, "more holistic" approach, which calls on businesses and organisations on the outside to help resettle offenders. The approach is due as much to biting cuts in funding as to a Government rethink. And it means the governor must innovate at every turn.

"I want to be sure that every woman here who is eligible to access resettlement can do so," she says. "There are plenty of opportunities to be had from working with other agencies and funding sources.

"With the staff here, I could provide a Rolls Royce service tomorrow, but it is taxpayers' money, so we make sure we're not lavish with it."

Thus, the prison uses European cash to fund IT lessons. Trained inmates can be farmed out to local businesses, providing a good service in return for on-the-job training. Drama and crafts have had to be phased out for lack of cash, but in their place comes practical tuition in computing and business sense.

Many women at the prison have never worked before, and many of them have been drug-dependent or alcoholic. Dawn Elaine wants to give them a sense of self-worth and self-belief, and the qualifications which will help them get it.

She also wants residents to learn the ins and outs of housing and benefit schemes, and to impart their wisdom to fellow prisoners. Moreover, the prison offers a comprehensive drugs treatment programme throughout an offender's sentence, and, in some cases, an eight-week period of "after-care" when a resident leaves.

It is all part, she says, of the changing times.

These are perhaps most obvious as we leave the prison, and walk past the site of what will become a bang up-to-date mother and baby facility, due to open next year.

"I was looking at the resident records for 1947, when Askham opened," says Dawn Elaine.

"There were 18 women doing sentences because they had had abortions. Times do change."

Updated: 09:15 Tuesday, September 24, 2002