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The Stanford Prison Experiment, also known as the Zimbardo Prison Experiment, was a simulation of a prison environment conducted on twenty-four participants for a psychology course in 1971. This experiment remains deeply controversial due to its ethical and technical violations, with the participants being put through unnecessary abuse and the results of the experiment being fabricated. The researchers wanted to explore the psychology behind “prison life”, with Zimbardo wanting to find out if inhumane conditions could turn people sour. In other words, he wanted to find out what would happen when good people are subject to poor environments and conditions. However, I question what would happen to any person, morally good or bad, when put in unacceptable conditions.

Over the period of 6 days, Zimbardo and the other researchers involved had twenty-four male students be assigned roles of prisoners and guards. They were assessed for their psychological stability and were offered $15USD, which is about $120USD in 2026. The participants with the roles of being “guards” were put in uniforms, and were ordered to be cruel and to prevent the prisoners from escaping. On the other hand, the participants with the roles of being “prisoners” were arrested by the Palo Alto Police Department, leading to them getting psychologically abused by the “guards” for the following five days. The psychological warfare on the “prisoners” permanently scarred them, leading to “prisoner breakdowns” and further abuse from the “guards”. It was only when Christina Maslach, a psychologist supervising, visited to evaluate the conditions was the experiment called to an end. The effects of this experiment during the post world war 2 period enabled other American universities to adjust their ethical requirements for human experimentation, to ensure that human subjects will not be harmed.

The power dynamics and dehumanization of this experiment is exhibited in real world prisons. The lasting psychological trauma that the participants experienced during this simulation is comparable to that of an ex-convict. Both have their own severities and differences, but both mirror long term effects, such as PTSD, anxiety and depression. The nature of confining a person often leads to institutionalization, which is the process of integrating a concept, belief or social practice into a society or organization as a permanent standard. After the Stanford prison experiment was called off, participants had difficulty separating themselves from their roles, just as inmates tend to be unable to separate themselves from their institution. The way that Zimbardo assigned these participants roles, is the same as how we assign people labels and condemn them to a title. As we continue to use these labels, the more they grow in our minds and onto them, blurring the lines and making separation challenging.

The conditions of this experiment was similar to that of prisons, especially with how Zimbardo trained the “guards”. Surveys taken by inmates have shown that incarcerated individuals are often deterred from reporting abuse from staff due to their fears of retaliation. Officers in prisons tend to adopt authoritarian personalities while handling inmates, often due to the stigma that inmates are “dangerous”, and how they believe they hold power over them. During Zimbardo’s experiment, the “guards” established baseless rules just to establish control, they strictly controlled their routines, and disrupted their lives in numerous ways. They used humiliation, verbal degradation, and manipulation to maintain their control. However, even moral “guards” never came forward to report the abuse from other guards. Similarly in prisons, officers thrive with control, verbally and physically abusing them, and discouraging them from reporting it. Hence, most of the abuse happening within these walls remains in the dark, and allows the cycle of pain to continue. This is widely known as the code of silence by criminologists, or to others as the Bystander effect. Audre Lorde once said, “we can’t dismantle a system while pretending neutrality”. If we want change to happen, we need to involve ourselves in this cause, and stand up for those who cannot. Obeying and pretending neutrality does not lessen anyone’s right to be rehabilitated, and rehabilitation should be everyone’s equal right.

Furthermore, the Stanford Prison Experiment illustrates the roles, effects and trauma that commonly emerge from prisons. How can we let an institution which has been created to rehabilitate incarcerated individuals do the opposite? Prisons often institutionalize their inmates, when they should be released to contribute to society. Authoritarian officers harm the inmates, the inmates leave institutionalized, as reflected from the experiment. Therefore, don’t remain a bystander, speak up when you see abuse, and do not allow the code of silence to mute and disregard the trauma that inmates and many others face.

Red Compassion Fruit is centred around supporting ex-convicts, successful reintegration, and creating second chances. Almost all of our published essays are surrounding these topics. Shifting our focus for this essay, what about the authorities who keep prisons in order? Prisons are structured around hierarchies, with authority figures enforcing rules and maintaining order. The Shawshank Redemption shows another portrayal of these characters, and how the exercise of authority can often turn into manipulation and cruelty, rather than justice or rehabilitation.

Warden Samuel Norton combines the dangers of authority with unchecked morality. His obsession with maintaining the prison’s image and his own power leads him to manipulate both officers and inmates, specifically highlighted when he lies to cover up Hadley’s violent actions towards Tommy Williams, “a man that young, less than a year to go trying to escape… broke Captain Hadley’s heart to shoot him.” Norton’s authority is rooted in fear and control rather than justice, creating an environment where truth is worth far less than reputation. Even as Andy executes his meticulously planned escape, the institution’s facade crumbles, revealing the glaring issues present in power built on deception. Norton’s ultimate decision to end his life when journalists bombarded his office shows the inevitable consequences of abusing authority, highlighting the moral reckoning that awaits those who place self-preservation above the truth.

Captain Byron Hadley, in contrast, demonstrates how institutional power can be corrupted through both ignorance and opportunity. Initially portrayed as a brutal enforcer, Hadley’s loyalty to the rules and the warden allows cruelty to thrive under his command. However, Andy’s plan exposes Hadley to the law, leading to his arrest and forcing him to confront the consequences of his actions. Through Hadley, the narrative suggests that authority figures are not immune to accountability, even if they initially wield power. His downfall, like Norton’s, illustrates that the systems meant to enforce order can also be vulnerable to diversion when integrity is absent, a reminder that the responsible exercise of power is inseparable from moral responsibility.

While The Shawshank Redemption illustrates the human desire for freedom, hope, and change, the characteristics of the warden and officers often disintegrate all hope and wonder present. Andy had dreams of living by the Pacific, “a warm place with no memory… open up a little hotel… buy some worthless old boat and fix it up new”. He yearned for renewal and redemption. Unlike Red, who had internalized and accepted the constraints of prison life, Andy refused to let the system define him. His meticulous planning and eventual escape demonstrate the resilience of the human spirit, as well as the importance of maintaining vision and agency even under oppressive authority.

Red’s reflection in the film provides an insight on liberation and the lasting impact of confinement. He reflects, “I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away…you rejoice.” Despite the institutional systems being designed to control and limit, people possess potential that cannot be limited or constrained. Supporting their reintegration, fostering hope, and ensuring fair treatment are crucial not only for justice, but for society’s moral integrity.

In conclusion, The Shawshank Redemption offers insights into the dynamics of prison authority and the challenges faced by ex-convicts. From the manipulations of Warden Norton to the institutionalization felt by Red, the film exposes the relationships between power, control, and human resilience. Andy’s pursuit of freedom reminds us that ex-convicts, like everyone, deserve opportunities for redemption, autonomy, and a life untainted by past injustices. Advocating for formerly incarcerated individuals, these lessons reinforce the necessity of compassion, accountability, and the belief that no bird should remain caged when it is ready to fly.

Put yourself in the shoes of an ex-convict being freshly released from prison. You have your belongings in one hand, your determination in the other, and you are standing at the doors of your prison. What now? In the last article posted, we covered the rehabilitation of incarcerated individuals leading to their release. Even after the storm, what happens next? The convicts have proven that they deserve to be released to the Parole Board, but little do they know that they have even more people to “prove” themselves to. Beyond the prison, many in society still have no trust in ex-convicts. Employers, landlords, neighbours, and even people they meet on the street are prepared to discount the Parole Board’s belief that they may be reintegrated, and put them through worse than they can imagine. Some may even say that life after prison may be worse than actually serving a sentence. This can be seen in the small yet powerful side stories of Brooks Halten and Tommy Williams in the well-loved film, The Shawshank Redemption.

Brooks Hatlen was a sweet, old man who had spent most of his life behind the Shawshank prison walls. Not much is known about him, but he represents the product of the system taking someone’s sense of identity and belonging. He is shown as a genuine and compassionate person, rescuing a maggot from his food to feed his pet bird, raising it until it can fly. Inside Shawshank, Brooks is well respected, running the prison library long before anyone else invested in it. With Andy and Red’s help, the library expands into a resource for all of the inmates, providing them with the knowledge and materials they need, even enabling some to get their diplomas and high school equivalency. The books arrive after Andy continually sends letters to the state senate, empowering the inmates to continue fighting for their needs. A community slowly forms inside confinement. Brooks’ years of work is finally paying off, and he’s still in the prison to watch his dreams come true. However, when Brooks learnt that his parole had been approved, the meaning, reputation and identity he had been building for years collapses. Terrified of a world he no longer understands, Brooks lashes out at another inmate, a friend, in a desperate attempt to stay imprisoned. This is a direct sign of how deeply institutionalized he had become. Red explained it as: inside, Brooks is “an important man; he’s an educated man,” but outside, he is “nothing, just a used up con with arthritis in both hands.” Once released, Brooks was overwhelmed by the speed of modern life, haunted by fear, loneliness, and disorientation in a halfway house where he felt invisible and unheard. He even fantasized about committing a crime just to return “home”, to prison. The years he had spent in there, the memories he made, the reputation he built, made Shawshank state prison home. Unable to reconcile freedom with safety, Brooks ultimately takes his own life. His last words were, “I don’t like it here. I’m tired of feeling afraid all the time. I’ve decided not to stay. I doubt they’ll kick up any fuss. Not for an old crook like me.” His story proves that release without support is not freedom at all. It is more akin to abandonment.

While Brooks shows the slow degradation of identity, Tommy Williams reveals how fragile hope becomes inside a system that prioritizes control over truth. Tommy enters Shawshank young, impulsive, and undereducated, serving only a short sentence for breaking and entering property. He has a wife and a baby waiting for him. He has a future that still feels real, and tangible. Under Andy’s guidance, Tommy begins studying seriously for the first time in his life, working toward his high school equivalency with genuine hope and effort. When he initially believes he has failed, his confidence collapses, only to be restored when Andy secretly submits his work and reveals that Tommy earned a solid average. Education gave Tommy something rare in prison, belief and confidence in himself. That hope becomes dangerous when Tommy reveals he possesses information that could prove Andy’s innocence. The prison authorities, specifically the warden, manipulate Tommy’s youth and naivety, pretending to listen while secretly ordering his execution. Tommy is murdered not by criminals, but by the very people tasked with protecting, rehabilitating and bringing justice, simply for wanting to tell the truth. His death exposes how institutions often protect their own power at the expense of human life, removing growth, courage, and moral action when it threatens authority.

These stories reveal two different but equally devastating failures of the justice system: abandonment and silencing. Brooks is released into a society that no longer provides emotional support or a reintegration structure, and no understanding of institutional trauma. Tommy is denied the chance to leave at all, all life and hope stolen by corruption and fear of accountability. Both stories mirror the realities faced by many formerly incarcerated individuals today. Without stable housing, mental health resources, employment opportunities, and community acceptance, release can seem more worse than imprisonment. Systems that prioritize punishment and reputation over rehabilitation ultimately discourage honesty, growth, and accountability. Red’s quiet prediction, that he will only be released when he is old and mentally worn down, reflects a culture where freedom is delayed until hope erodes. For our system to work, reintegration must go beyond unlocking a gate. People leaving incarceration need dignity, trust, structure, and belonging. Otherwise, like Brooks, they may long for confinement instead of freedom, and like Tommy, those who seek truth and change may never survive the system meant to protect them.

What comes to mind when you hear the word “rehabilitation”? “Rehabilitation” and “improving” is a common theme present in Project Red Compassion Fruit, and among other non-profit organizations supporting formerly incarcerated individuals. The Oxford Dictionary definition of this word is, “the action of restoring someone to health or normal life through training and therapy after imprisonment, addiction, or illness”, or otherwise, “the action of restoring someone to former privileges or reputation after a period of disfavour.” Do we ever wonder, how difficult, or how uncommon it is to conform to society’s perception of rehabilitation?

In The Shawshank Redemption, Ellis “Red” Redding sits before the Parole Board again and again, answering the same question with the same response, ”Do you feel that you have been rehabilitated?” and each time, Red tells them exactly what they want to hear. He tells them he has learned his lesson. He is a changed man, no longer a danger to society. Yet, he is rejected every time.

In the prison, the men speak about rejection from the Parole Board jokingly, because it has become normalized. Parole was no longer a possibility or source of hope, but instead an expected disappointment. The system asks for performance, not truth. When inmates genuinely think that they have turned over a new leaf, and are ready for change and to be reintegrated into society, authorities choose their future for them. This is mirrored in present day prisons. If rehabilitation is real, we must stop choosing for them.

My favourite part of the movie is when Red finally gets released from prison, after breaking the cycle and answering the Parole Board in a different way as repeated all those years before. After forty years inside Shawshank, Red sits for his final parole interview, exhausted and bitter. When asked once more if he has been rehabilitated, he finally refuses the script.

“Rehabilitated? Well, now, let me see. I don’t have any idea what that means… To me, it’s just a made up word. A politician’s word… What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did? There’s not a day that goes by I don’t feel regret… That kid’s long gone. This old man is all that’s left… Rehabilitated? It’s just a bullshit word. So go on and stamp your form, Sonny, and stop wasting my time.”

He does not promise transformation, does not claim moral perfection, does not perform redemption. Instead, he admits regret. He does not put on a front and speak of his remorse because it’s what the Parole Board wants to hear, but because he genuinely feels it. He acknowledges the loss of his younger self.

With that, they stamp his papers, and he is released. This buildup reveals how hollow the concept of rehabilitation becomes when it is reduced to a stamp. Rehabilitation is much more than a scripted interview or a stamped form, it is a human process and experience.

Fostering this ideology makes hope itself becomes dangerous. Red famously says, “Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.” In institutions built on control and repetition, hope becomes uncertain because disappointment is guaranteed. When parole becomes certain rejection, people stop believing in change, let alone rehabilitation, altogether. They have changed, but the system refuses to recognize it.

If rehabilitation is truly about preparing someone to reintegrate into society, then it must involve dignity and responsibility. Red does not become free because he says the right thing, but he became free because he has already done the hard, invisible work of changing, becoming someone honest, reflective, and accountable.

This scene highlights one of the many issues in modern day justice systems. We claim to believe in rehabilitation, yet we build structures that punish vulnerability, reward performance, and distrust authenticity. We expect people to “prove” their humanity in artificial environments while denying them meaningful opportunities to practice it. Are we actually invested in rehabilitation, or just in maintaining the appearance of control?

Until that question is answered honestly, “rehabilitation” will remain exactly what Red calls it: a word that sounds humane, but often functions as another locked door.

Most people have little to no idea of what truly happens behind prison walls. I, myself, have never experienced prison life, nor have I seen or heard enough about it. However, this does not dismiss the reality of the maltreatment and long-lasting trauma that is created and nurtured with each inmate. Some people argue that prisoners “deserve” such treatment due to the crimes they have committed. Therefore, I will be challenging and debunking this belief by dissecting the depiction of prison life in the film The Shawshank Redemption. The movie follows two inmates, Andy Dufresne and Red, from their incarceration to their release. Although ex-convicts and prison life are not often portrayed in mainstream media, this film, starring Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman, has become highly regarded and is still held close to heart by many to this day. Through its portrayal of the relationships between inmates and prison authorities, the film provides perspective on the abuse present in prisons. By analyzing these interactions, this essay will explore how the Shawshank State Prison presents the inhumane treatment of inmates by both those in power and their fellow prisoners.

To begin with, incarcerated individuals at Shawshank State Prison are subject to severe abuse by the authorities from the moment they arrive. The prison officers are consistently depicted as ruthless, corrupt, and selfish throughout the film. This is evident on Andy’s first day, when a group of newly arrived inmates get verbally degraded and physically intimidated. One inmate simply asks when they will be allowed to eat, only to be met with the officer’s reply being, “You eat when we say you eat. You shit when we say you shit, and you piss when we say you piss,” followed by being beaten. This interaction demonstrates how officers use humiliation and brutality to establish control over the inmates. Later that same night, the same inmate breaks down crying after being provoked by other prisoners. Instead of offering support, the captain violently assaults him once again for “acting up,” ultimately causing his death on his very first night in prison. This scene reinforces the idea that prisons, as portrayed in media and shared through testimony, are merciless institutions where vulnerability is punished rather than protected.

Furthermore, the corruption of authority figures is also shown by Warden Norton, whose behaviour reveals how power is exploited for personal gain in this prison. While Norton promotes the idea of rehabilitation through prison labor, he only allows inmates to participate in community service when it financially benefits him, through bribes. He also takes advantage of Andy’s background as a banker, forcing him to manage his illegal finances involving bribes and embezzlement. Rather than supporting Andy’s rehabilitation, Norton weaponizes his intelligence to gain wealth and control. These actions illustrate how authority figures at Shawshank abuse their positions, oppressing inmates instead of safeguarding their welfare. Although officers and wardens are meant to maintain order, their cruelty highlights how unchecked power and its abuse leads to such treatment within the prisons.

In addition to abuse from authorities, inmates at Shawshank are also subjected to maltreatment from their fellow prisoners. This is particularly evident through the repeated assaults Andy suffers from a group known as the “sissies.” From the moment Andy arrives, he becomes a target due to his vulnerability. Despite seeking help from Red and from the officers, Andy receives little to no protection. He is repeatedly cornered, beaten, and sexually assaulted, enduring physical and psychological trauma. It is only after the captain intervenes for his own benefit that the abuse comes to an end, when the leader of the group is killed. Andy’s perseverance throughout these incidents highlights his strength of character, but it also shows the injustice of his suffering. His experiences reflect a broader reality within prisons, where inmates often prey on one another due to vulnerability and a lack of protection. Andy was definitely not the first or the last to endure this treatment, emphasizing how normalized violence has become within the prison environment.

In conclusion, The Shawshank Redemption portrays the prison system by showcasing the widespread mistreatment of inmates by both authorities and fellow prisoners. Through the experiences of Andy Dufresne and Red, the film illustrates how abuse, corruption, and violence are normalized in prison life. Rather than serving as a place of rehabilitation, Shawshank State Prison functions as an institution that dehumanizes individuals and only causes trauma. By challenging the idea that inmates “deserve” such treatment, the film encourages viewers to reconsider their assumptions about incarceration and justice. Ultimately, the portrayal of Shawshank emphasizes the need for accountability, compassion, and reform within the prison system.

Once society locks the door on someone after they commit a crime, why do we keep it closed, even when they return? Even after doing their time, ex-convicts commonly find themselves still being punished in their own communities. The irony is that society believes that they are already condemned to their record for life, yet they expect them to continue surviving. Finding a job and housing, as if the record never existed in the first place, however, seems unimaginable for them. Despite many of them being successfully rehabilitated and ready to contribute to society, they find doors to new opportunities being slammed closed. No matter how many times they knock, they still cannot open any of the doors, hitting more and more dead ends. This double standard sets the stage for ex-convicts to fail, even with their second chance out of prison. Hence, I will be illustrating the conflicting dichotomy of societal expectations of formerly incarcerated individuals upon release, versus the reality of what they must face, and how it traps them in the vicious cycle of condemnation and false hope.

The expectations placed on former detainees are almost impossible to meet. They are expected to be rehabilitated immediately, and return to society and participate like a “normal” citizen, acting as if the crimes that society is so repulsed by never happened at all. The pressure of “turning their lives around” and roadblocks involving employment and housing commonly pushes them into recidivism, locking the door behind them once again. When they are released from prison, many have the misconception that they have been handed the keys for freedom. Regardless, ex-convicts find that the doors to housing, employment and reintegration are still locked. Without the right keys, how can we expect them to harness their latitude? If we are serious about second chances, we must stop barring them from basic necessities, and instead provide them with the resources they need to reach their fullest potential, and achieve redemption.

The impact of these requests prove to be harmful to both the general public and the former detainees. It reinforces a constant cycle of isolation and mistrust, fostering feelings of hopelessness among the ex-convicts, and frustration among society. Many assume that if someone has committed a crime before, they are destined to do so again. These baseless assumptions strip ex-convicts of the benefit of the doubt, and many opportunities slip away. Employers turn down their applications, landlords deny them housing, without considering their current behaviour, but only their past mistakes. Every glare they receive, and every denied request feels like another door locked shut. These actions strengthen the message that society is unwilling to forgive them, and errodes their self confidence and makes reintegration even more difficult.

I recently saw a post differentiating equality and equity. It proved equality to be insufficient in ensuring that everyone can progress together, while equity was the opposite and ultimately was the best option if we wish to improve as a society. Equality is defined as the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities, while equity is defined as the quality of being fair and impartial. When it comes to ex-convicts, and anyone who has been seemingly left behind, equality does not seem to be enough to support them. Giving equal opportunities ignores some of these individuals’ needs to succeed. Equity, on the other hand, addresses these challenges and provides the necessary support to promote rehabilitation. To ensure that everyone is able to prosper in modern society, we must move past mere fairness, and instead tailor to the ex-convicts’ needs to aid them in rebuilding their lives. Without equity, the meaning behind a second chance becomes obsolete, and the doors that were once closed become hammered shut.

To conclude, reintegration can only be achieved if both the ex-convicts and members of society claim responsibility. We cannot claim to believe in second chances while simultaneously engaging in the negative stigma and prohibiting them from pursuing their future. Reintegration demands equity, and not excluding ex-convicts from any communities, facilities or necessities. If we could meet formerly incarcerated individuals with fairness and understanding, we would be able to not only help them rebuild their lives and support genuine rehabilitation, but also create safer and more productive environments for the general public.

If you ask a group of people on their opinions on juvenile detention, every person will have a different response. People who are not informed of the happenings within the walls of the detention centre will tell you that it’s a place where the police put troubled kids. Worried parents will tell you that it’s where childrens’ dreams go to die, since when they emerge, finding education and employment becomes difficult. However, I believe that juvenile detention facilities should be a place to both help incarcerated minors learn from their mistakes, and prepare them for a future beyond detention, not dead ends. Therefore, I will be sharing about what Juvenile detention centres are about,  why they can be detrimental to the youths health and the changes I believe should be made to advocate for such facilities specialized beyond punishment.

Juvenile detention is defined as the temporary confinement of minors awaiting trail, court hearings, or those with probation violations. The youths living in these facilities follow strict schedules, with controlled times for meals, schooling, recreation and counselling. A report from the Juvenile Law Centre regarding traditional detainment of incarcerated youths states, “Originally, the court process was informal—often nothing more than a conversation between the youth and the judge—and the defendant lacked legal representation. Proceedings were conducted behind closed doors with little public or community awareness of how the juvenile court operated or what happened to the children who appeared before it.” The minors were commonly wrongfully detained, and had to suffer the consequences of the judge’s lapse in judgement.

A child should not be sentenced under the same laws as an adult. The same report states, “Developmental psychology — which demonstrated youth’s developmental immaturity, particular susceptibility to negative peer influences, and a capacity for change and rehabilitation — is supported by neuroscience, which has shown that key areas of the adolescent brain continue to develop until the mid-twenties.” This further proves that minors do not have the same decision making skills as adults. Since both are under different circumstances, they should be sentenced as such, and youths in juvenile detention should not have worse conditions compared to prison. Neither a prison nor a juvenile detention centre should have poor facilities.

Though many modern centres now prioritize rehabilitation before the youths are discharged, more traditional ones prioritized punishment, which proved to be extremely harmful to both the youths’ mental and physical health. The harsh punishment methods lowered their self esteem, cultivated feelings of hopelessness and often caused youths to reoffend after being released. A study done by the National Library of Medicine showed that, “Up to 90% of justice-involved youth report exposure to some type of traumatic event... Justice-involved youth are also at risk for substance use and academic problems, and child welfare involvement.” The old methods of these detention centres were brutal. They disrupted brain development in teens, fostered depression, anxiety and many other long term issues.

In the autobiography done by Jarvis Jay Masters regarding his journey as a convict, That Bird Has My Wings, he shared about his experience in Juvenile Detention. Though other children in his foster home sang praises about it, I believe that they only wanted to get away from their abusive foster parents. During his time in the facilities (since he was transferred between a few), he was mistreated by the authorial figures in the area, giving him harsh physical and isolating punishments. He also saw the measures the children went to escape the facility, due to the inhumane methods of “disciplinary action”, which were often abused. Once Masters left the detention centre, he reoffended, reaffirming that the methods used by these detention centres were ineffective.

To prevent the cycle of reoffending outside of Juvenile detention, I will now be sharing some ways in which the system can be improved, and promote a more sustainable cycle to enable youths to rebuild their lives.

The youths in Juvenile Detention should be given adequate facilities and more community programmes. In order to change and improve themselves, they should be given good conditions, such as good sanitation, humane disciplinary action and proper rehabilitation. This will empower them to prepare themselves for their lives outside of juvenile detention, where they can pursue their dreams and live their lives. Detention centres should never seem like the end, and they should be given more opportunities. Additionally, to prepare them for education and employment, the centres could host courses teaching the youths valuable skills to ensure that they will go far in life. For example, basic cooking, survival skills and more technical courses, such as education workshops.

The youths should have access to more mental health resources and counselling. Even if it is not within the means of the facility, I believe that the youths’ mental health is fundamental. A place where they are temporarily confined should not leave a permanent scar on them, both literally and metaphorically. The detention centre’s authorial figures could be regulated frequently to ensure that they are aiding the kids sufficiently, and the disciplinary measures taken are not adverse for the minors. Additionally, mental health professionals could hold talks to share why certain methods can be destructive in the long term for the youths, and possibly teach the youths skills to aid them in their time within the facility.

More awareness should be spread regarding these facilities. In many countries across the globe, there are still serious concerns and harmful conditions fostering on their grounds. Improvements do exist, but we must continue to advocate for the overall improvement of the system.

To conclude, I believe that many people are still unaware of the maltreatment and abuse happening within Juvenile detention centres, and we need to change the system for the sakes of the youths. A report from the Youth Criminal Justice Act of Canada states, “states have recognized that children who commit crimes are different from adults; as a class, they are less blameworthy, and they have a greater capacity for change.” These youths still harbour a great amount of potential, and they all have the same potential to contribute to society as any other child. To prevent recidivism, we must break the cycle and give these youths a chance. We must break the stereotype that they have ruined their lives, when truly, it has barely just begun.

References:

(National Library of Medicine, 2013)

Dierkhising, C. B., Ko, S. J., Woods-Jaeger, B., Briggs, E. C., Lee, R., & Pynoos, R. S. (2013). Trauma histories among justice-involved youth: Findings from the National Child Traumatic Stress Network. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 4, 20430. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3714673/

(Department of Justice Canada, 2021)

Department of Justice Canada. (2021, September 1). Youth justice (Canada’s system of justice). Retrieved August 20, 2025, from https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/just/11.html

Juvenile Law Center. (n.d.). Youth in the justice system: An overview. Retrieved August 20, 2025, from https://jlc.org/youth-justice-system-overview.

Since I started noticing the taboo surrounding detainment, I have heard many different opinions and perceptions about ex-convicts. To spread awareness and debunk certain ideas, I have posted a reel on instagram (@projectredcompassionfruit) following the trend “propaganda I’m not falling for”. This trend serves to bring false claims to light, and it was the perfect opportunity to falsify certain claims I had heard. Hence, in this bonus essay, I will be highlighting how stereotypes and stigma are both extremely harmful to ex-detainees and harm our society as a whole.

“Having a criminal record means you can’t have a house, job or education”

Many ex-convicts and individuals with criminal records have difficulty finding housing and employment as landlords and employers are fearful that they may pose a “threat to their reputation” by being hired or living on their property. This act of shunning encourages the cycle of failure, as ex-convicts are not given the resources to harness their second chance, and this cycle often pushes them into crime again, due to the lack of income. Ex-convicts should be given the necessary materials, including housing and income, to improve their lives outside of prison.

“Ex-convicts deserve to be treated differently.”

This should never be the case. Ex-convicts deserve forgiveness and hospitality after serving their sentences, especially after being successfully rehabilitated and learning from their mistakes. Ex-convicts deserve to be given equal opportunities as the rest of us. If we wish to progress as a modern society, we need to leave baseless stereotypes in the past and embrace each person for who they are, not for what they did or have done.

“Youths in juvenile detention have ruined their lives.”

Incarcerated youths are often given resources within their facilities to aid with rehabilitation and community-based programmes to support successful reintegration. Along with a welcoming society, these resources prove to be useful in aiding these youths, allowing them to pursue their future and contribute to society. How could they have ruined their lives when they have barely started it?

“Formerly detained individuals can never be forgiven or trusted again.”

Revisiting the stereotype encouraging people to treat ex-convicts differently, this is another stereotype that prevents us from solving the issue of discrimination of formerly incarcerated individuals in society. When ex-convicts are treated as untrustworthy along side being treated as an anomaly, they commonly feel alienated from us. This cultivates feelings of hopelessness and frustration, leading them back into crime. And so, the cycle continues. An ex-convict is released from prison, is isolated from society, and they commit more crimes to return to prison, where there is no stigma or isolation, until they are released again. This both limits the ex-convict’s freedom and ability to improve, but also increases crime rates everywhere in the world.

“Anyone who has served a sentence is dangerous.”

This is a very common stereotype, and formerly incarcerated individuals should not automatically be seen as dangerous. Completing their time and rehabilitation shows that they have already been held accountable by the law, and have earned their chance to rebuild their lives. Who are we to limit them? Treating them as “dangerous” individuals ignores the fact that they have already paid their debt and should have more opportunities outside of prison. Labelling former inmates as dangerous disregards their capacity for growth and redemption and prevents them from reaching their full potential and contributing to their communities.

In conclusion, these common forms of “propaganda” and stereotypes are untrue and deserve to be debunked to recognize ex-convicts and their struggles. To move on from these outdated stereotypes and open new doors to opportunity, acceptance and support, we must stop viewing them in fear or suspicion, but see then for the person that they have become, and welcome them to rebuild their lives.

Why is society so willing to give up on people who make mistakes? When I think of a time when I felt supported by an adult in my life, be it a parent, teacher or guardian, the first memory that comes to mind is of one when I was in primary school. I had been careless in my revision and did not understand math concepts, a situation that many children find themselves in. As I sobbed on the car ride home, a heap of tissues scattered on the car seat beside me, my father told me that mistakes are necessary to grow. That without them, the process of learning would be meaningless.

However, in a more modern context, is this really how mistakes are treated? Many ex-convicts return to society to find that the world has moved on without them, and the concept of their “daily life” has changed. Even after serving their sentence, ex-convicts continue to be punished outside of prison, in their own society. From being respected and treated equally among everyone else, returning after doing time seems uncanny, as people begin to shun them and finding housing and employment becomes difficult.

Imagine spending years behind bars, learning from your mistakes day by day, dreaming of seeing your friends and family again once you leave. However, once you step out, you’re faced by discrimination and being excluded despite the years you spent reflecting.

This should never be the case for formerly incarcerated individuals. If we truly believe in rehabilitation and second chances, we must address the negative stigma surrounding serving sentences and create a society where second chances are more than just words. By doing so, we can break the cycle of poverty and failure that continues across generations.

As a child, I found myself in many situations where I felt vulnerable, with no way out. I continued to make mistakes, and instead of being met with the comfort of my parents picking me up after the mistake, I felt like I would be tied to my problems forever. Since then, I have grown from my fears, and I am grateful that I learnt to pick myself up after accidents. Though my experience is not similar to those who have been incarcerated, I firmly believe that no one should be permanently defined by their past. So long as they have learnt from their past mistakes and picked themselves up, they should be treated like the rest of us. We should look beyond one’s history, and focus on the person they have become.

I first realized how serious the stigma surrounding ex-convicts and youths in juvenile detention was during a group project. My task was to cover how ex-convicts were marginalized in society, and how they can be reintegrated into society. When I finished my part of the presentation, I was bombarded with questions from my classmates, asking why they should be accepted in society after the crimes they committed. They shared that they would feel unsafe around them, and they were unsure if they could truly accept them after “what they did”. This pushed me to do more research on statistics of formerly incarcerated individuals being accepted in society and their rates of finding housing and employment, and I read several books surrounding the recounts of ex-convicts and youths.

One of the books that changed by perspective is “that bird has my wings”, an autobiography by Jarvis Jay Masters. It covers his childhood leading up to him being sentenced. The part that struck me most is when he discovered his faith through reading buddhist books provided by his prison. Though I am not buddhist, I was moved by how he found meaning in his suffering and separated himself from his past.

This further proves that with the right resources and adequate support, individuals who are either serving or have served sentences are able to improve themselves through lessons they have learnt, and be able to contribute to society as well as anyone else. The only thing between their transformation and returning to their daily lives is society’s unwillingness to support them. If people can forgive a child for scoring poorly on an exam after learning from their mistakes through revision and practice, it should be no different for ex-convicts after serving time and recognizing their mistakes. If their sentence has been served and they have been punished by justice, who are we to continue punishing them?