Miranda Project: Working with women after jail
Gail Gray is a proud First Nation Wiradjuri Woman who grew up on Gadigal land in Sydney. Gail spent over 15 years as a repeat customer in NSW jails and has now spent 15 years making new choices. She uses her lived experience to help women in the justice system. Gail talked to NUAA about how her choices led her to the Community Restorative Centre (CRC) as a caseworker with the Miranda Project.
UN: What’s your story? How did you end up doing the work you’re doing today?
Gail Gray (GG): I was born in a little town on the mid-north coast of NSW near Coffs Harbour. My parents were still teenagers when I was born, so my grandmother ended up looking after me in Woolloomooloo. In the early 1980s, we were one of the only Aboriginal families in the area, so I struggled to fit in.
At 11, I gravitated to the kids who were experimenting with alcohol and cannabis. At 14 I was enjoying drugs at raves. I took to drugs like a duck to water. I was a really shy kid and drugs gave me confidence to talk to people.
UN: How did you end up in prison?
GG: Grandma did her best to try and keep me safe, but there was only so much she could do. By the time I was 18, I ended up in a relationship with an older guy who was using heroin. As soon as I tried heroin, I disappeared for the next 20 years. The guy was in and out of prison, so I was left to find ways to afford my dependence on heroin. I committed silly crimes that I kept getting arrested for. By the time I was 19, I had broken too many good behaviour bonds so they sent me to prison.
I started to feel comfortable in prison because there were older women who looked after me. I spent the next 15 years in and out of prison.
UN: How did you finally stay out of prison?
GG: I figured out that I would have a better chance of staying out of jail if I stayed away from drugs. I tried to stop using many times, but I couldn’t stay stopped. I tried methadone and buprenorphine programs. I even did a rapid detox on naltrexone (that was rough!). Using was making me physically unwell and I was using prison as a way of reducing those harms. Being locked up gave me the break I needed to get healthy, so it felt like prison was saving my life.
In 2006, I finished my last 3-year sentence. On my release date, Corrective Services had to drag me out of reception! When I finally walked out of the gate, I had a panic attack. It felt like the darkest day of my life. I still think about it and get emotional. I was so institutionalised that I felt that without jail I had no purpose. I had no idea how to live outside the walls of a prison. I felt like an 11-year-old kid in a woman’s body. I was on the methadone program in prison, and the first thing I did when I got outside was find some heroin.
Pretty soon after that, I ended up in front of my parole officer on my way back to prison. Luckily, I had an amazing parole officer and I asked her for help. I didn’t want to go back to my old life and I ended up saying “I’m fucked, I need help”.
I didn’t know what a better life would look like, but I knew I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing. I was given the opportunity to avoid prison by going to rehab. Once I asked for help and went to rehab, I was given more opportunities to learn ways to improve my life.
UN: What was rehab like for you?
GG: My goal was abstinence so as well as staying away from illicit drugs, I also reduced off methadone. One of the things that helped me most at the rehab was the ‘therapeutic community’. Previously, I had this idea in my head that rehab was for weaklings and jail was for tough people. I was taken to 12-step program meetings which introduced me to a bunch of other people going through the same shit as me.
It meant a lot to me to find my people and I learned to surround myself with the sort of person who was going in the same direction as I was. I left that rehab in 2007. I started using again and went back to rehab many times. But I finally got to experience being abstinent. For me, it was like waking up from a coma. I was finally getting the hang of saying how I felt and asking for help. Each time I experienced abstinence, I got a bit stronger.
UN: What have you learnt?
GG: A big part of my story is my struggle to stay abstinent. I’ve been abstinent for the last 4 years — it’s the longest I’ve been abstinent since I was 11. I’m almost 46 now. It’s important to me to help others avoid going through the same struggle I went through. If your goal is abstinence, you need to find ways to make sure you don’t have that first drink or that first hit. But also, don’t hate yourself if you do trip up. It’s all part of the process.
Learn what your triggers are. Learn what’s underlying why you use. Learn what happens when you do use. It’s interesting that when I started taking drugs it helped me have fun and talk to people, but later on in my using it actually stopped me being able to talk or feel a connection to people. I began to get paranoid, and to become this woman that I don’t know. I enjoy life more now when I am not using. I regularly go to counselling, and it’s helping me to understand why I use and why I ended up in prison.
When I was in prison, at least 90% of us were in there for drug-related crimes. But the drugs are a symptom of something much deeper. For example, my grandparents are part of the stolen generation, and there’s lots of trauma I have been carrying inside me that I’m finally starting to heal.
I now have the skills and connections I need to survive and thrive. I can’t survive on my own. I’m still part of a therapeutic community. We talk about stuff like low self-esteem and feeling unsure. Part of healing is realising that we can go through a lot of shit, but life is not that bad. I have almost died a few times, but now I’m happy in my life today. I have an amazing partner whom I hope to marry soon. I have a stepdaughter. I have 2 dogs. For me, it wouldn’t be possible without putting down the drugs and getting ongoing treatment and support.
I need to live the solution. I’m a woman recovering from a life of trauma and I’m a caseworker. For me, I couldn’t be one without the other. I stay focused by finding my purpose in helping others. And I feel that I can’t be an effective caseworker unless I stay away from drugs. I know some people can keep using drugs and perform well at work, but it doesn’t work for me.
UN: How did you become a caseworker?
GG: I’ve been working with the community for over 10 years. In 2011, someone helped me to get a job as a peer support worker supporting rough sleepers within the Way2home homeless outreach service. The only requirement was lived experience and they trained me on the job. Then 3 years ago, I started working for the Community Restorative Centre (CRC) in the Miranda Project as a caseworker supporting women before and after they are released from prison.
UN: What is the Miranda Project?
GG: The Miranda Project is run by women, for women. The project helps women live lives free from the criminal justice system and free from domestic and family violence. Miranda works on both sides of the prison walls to help women who are attending court, on community orders or exiting prison. Miranda provides wrap around support including casework, group activities, access to victims counselling and connections with other key services. The project has 5 case workers who are women and 2 of them are specialist First Nations workers (I’m one of them!).
UN: How do you help women in your role at the Miranda Project?
GG: If a woman in prison is referred to me, I book a visit with them before they’re released to see what their unique needs are. At the moment these visits are via video call because of COVID-19. The first day out of prison can be extremely stressful learning how to deal with society again.
So, in some cases, on the day of your release, I can pick you up from the prison gate and spend the whole day with you. I’m like your big sister for a day. I help support you. I help speak for you. We help you report to parole, get you into stable housing and on Centrelink payments. We can also support any treatment goals you have.