This guest post comes from David Honeywell…
I’ve struggled with an identity crisis since as long as I can remember. It’s what led me to act out my role as a ‘gangster’ while rubbing shoulders with the Newcastle underworld; it’s what made me carry knives because it made me feel I was a tough guy; it’s what made me tell people I was a university lecturer before I’d even graduated; and it’s what made me tell people I was a journalist before I had anything published.
I was so desperate to be accepted and to belong, and so disgusted about who I really was that I invented various personas. The only time my identity crises made sense to me was when I was later diagnosed with having borderline personality disorder. Even so, I did in fact achieve all the above identities, eventually – except I was no gangster.
The whole identity problem continues to this day. But now, rather than being personally confused as I was before receiving psychiatric treatment, the problem is forced upon me by society.
It’s all very well achieving things and proving yourself on your journey to reform but the stigma of being an ‘ex-offender’ sometimes won’t allow us to fully re-integrate. So although I had achieved what I had set out to do, one part of society that was still putting obstacles in my way was the employment sector. I may have become qualified to start a new career but it seemed it would never be enough.
My journey to becoming a reformed offender began in 2000 when I almost lost my freedom yet again. I had been released from prison in 1998 where I went straight to Northumbria University in Newcastle. Living a Jekyll and Hyde existence had become the ‘norm’ for me juggling my studies alongside my seedy underworld existence.
I never really settled and was hauled before Newcastle Crown Court on serious assault charges. I had been in court many times over the years, but this time was different. This time I had something to lose. I was a university student with prospects who, amazingly, had somehow managed to get through my first two years.
Luckily I received probation rather than jail time so I left Newcastle for good in 2000 and moved back to Teesside where I finally began to settle for the first time since leaving prison. I transferred to Teesside University and though it was to become a massive turning point in my life, it was also the most bizarre part of the journey. Stepping out from the doorway of Middlesbrough probation offices where I’d spent all day talking through anger issues with probation staff and other offenders, I’d look across to the other side of the road at the sign facing me saying, University of Teesside, with a growing pride inside me.
‘This time last year I was looking at going back to prison’, I thought to myself. It was the weirdest feeling as I stepped out from the probation offices and into the entrance leading to the university ten yards away into what seemed like a parallel universe. How two worlds can collide is bizarre. Half of my identity was an ‘offender’ on probation – the other half, a postgraduate student where I felt I belonged; in a culture that accepted me.
I hadn’t realised it at the time, but your punishment doesn’t start until you are released from prison and for the aging ‘reformed offender’ there are two issues to deal with. Not only a criminal record along with all the prejudices that comes with that but eventually age prejudice will creep in too. In my case, I have three prejudices to juggle, the criminal record, my age and a history of mental health issues. But I will be eternally grateful to the probation services for giving me the nudge I needed. My time with them spanned eighteen months but it was the most cleansing part of my criminal journey being forced to face my demons and communicate this to a room full of people.
If there was ever an example where community sentencing works over prison, this was it and I can say I have experienced it, for had I gone to prison I doubt it would have done anything for me except make me more volatile. I would have re-entered society as I had before with even more criminal contacts and a thirst for revenge. For my whole aspiration to become part of the underworld was born from the desire to wreak revenge on all those who had done me wrong in my younger years when I was too shy and too timid to fight back.
Three years into my studies my thinking began to change and in 2001 I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Criminology, by which time my identity was that of a graduate. For the first time in my life I felt as though I was now a real person. I was now working towards a Masters degree which I gained in 2003 and, by the time this happened, I was a changed person. Once I had reached this stage I had a new confidence to achieve anything. I went on and achieved a City and Guilds in teaching but once again reality was to hit me like a sledgehammer.
I was the victim of my own success, forgetting that although I had achieved what I had, I would never really be allowed to fully reintegrate. In 2003, I was so excited after being offered a sociology teaching post at Middlesbrough College but my elation was short lived as my criminal record raised its ugly head again. And rather than facing another rejection, I politely turned down the job offer.
The following year, I gave up job hunting after too many rejections to remember. I realised that interviewers and employers faced with a ‘rap sheet’ were unable to make objective decisions; it was easier for them to just not take things any further – not to mention the growing amount of jobs that are CRB checked leaving you falling at the first hurdle.
That was why I decided to become self employed and, in 2004, I decided to try the world of journalism. I worked tirelessly writing and contributing articles for newspapers for little return except seeing my name in the press as a respected writer instead of in the courts section. This was enough to drive me on as it was another identity breakthrough.
It became addictive and in 2005 a feature article was in the York Press with subsequent articles in both now the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette and again in the York Press. In 2007 one of my articles about my grandfather’s heroics was used in a book, Time Past: The Story of York.
Then in 2008, I got my first paid writing work through Redcar and Cleveland Councils’ business enterprise team. I wrote press releases for local fledgling businesses they had funded and supported. I had spent four years honing my skills and shaping my career though I was never certain it would actually happen. In 2009, I launched a successful local newspaper, Coastal View, and in 2012 set up my book publishing company.
I am no longer bitter towards the system for alienating me; rather I am grateful for being made to jump ship. Had they not forced me into a corner, I’d never have discovered my entrepreneurial skills. My identity crisis is finally over and instead of being a fantasist and trying to prove myself to others while being ashamed of myself, I am now able to tell people I am an author, publisher and writer, knowing it’s the truth.
David Honeywell BSc (Hons) MSc MRSPH
Author & Publisher
David Honeywell Associates Ltd/Nocton Publishing Ltd
Email: david.honeywell@yahoo.co.uk Tel: (01642) 275052 / Mob: 07907 511564