AFTER RELEASE, TOUGH FREEDOM

On his release from the Fulham Correctional Centre in Sale, Andrew
Charles - a long-term heroin user with a mental illness - was driven
to the railway station by a corrections officer.

Charles seemed stressed. "He appeared very confused and uncertain of
his future," the corrections officer, Andrew Kingscott, later
recalled.

Three days before being paroled, Charles had refused a urine test,
raising concern among prison staff that he may have taken drugs while
he was away for medical treatment. Boarding the train to Melbourne
that afternoon in February, 1999, Charles told Kingscott he would not
be going back on heroin. At 11.30am the next day, a passer-by found a
body in a Springvale park. Next to it in a plastic bag were some
belongings and drug equipment. Andrew Charles was dead from heroin
toxicity. He was 24.

His father, Bill, says he was not told his son was being released
from prison. His son was given some money and told to report to a
community corrections service in Box Hill a few days later. That's
all.

The time immediately after release from custody is the most dangerous
for drug users. Their tolerance to heroin is low, and often they are
looking for a hit. "One hit, bang and you're dead. It's as quick as
that," says David Murray of the Youth Substance Abuse Service.

Compounding their problems is an acute shortage of emergency housing,
a maze of forms to be filled in for welfare benefits, a lack of
money, family or friends, and the lure of heroin.

Some young offenders have been state wards or under protective orders
and have few possessions. "They haven't collected anything; their
history is left behind," says Vaughan Winther, a post-release
coordinator with the Brosnan Centre. Some deliberately breach parole
to get back inside.

"The most comfortable environment they have been in is at Malmsbury
(Juvenile Justice Centre)", according to youth worker Sarah Covill.

Death rates, due mainly to drugs but also suicides and accidents, for
ex-prisoners are alarming - up to 40 times that of the general
community for females coming out of juvenile centres. "It's the
highest risk group, bar none," Murray says of young drug users
released from custody.

Despite the death rates, the emphasis in Victoria and other states
has been on deaths in custody.

"Concern about the high death rate within Australian prisons over the
last decade has led to a large amount of effort to prevent deaths in
custody, however Victorian programs aimed at preventing post-prison
deaths are only in their infancy," says a recent study prepared for
the Office of the Correctional Services Commissioner and the State
Coroner's Office.

The study of 820 deaths of men and women released from adult prisons
between 1990 and 2000 found the rate of unnatural death among
ex-prisoners was double the rate of those dying in custody.

Another report, by the Adolescent Forensic Health Service, found that
96 young people had died since being released from juvenile justice
centres in Victoria between 1988 and 1999. Its author, Dr Friederike
Veit, says: "We were saddened but not surprised by the results. We
all know only too well that many deaths are occurring out there."

Jacinta Heffey, the coroner who examined Andrew Charles' death, found
he had been released from prison with little consideration of his
support structures. "An examination of his record would have
disclosed a disturbed, homeless young man who was attempting to
resolve his drug and psychological problems. However he was driven to
a country railway station and left to fend for himself," she said.

"Evidence of the conversation with a correctional officer during the
drive from the prison to the station discloses a lost young man in
need of support and help from the system. However, there is no
indication of any pre-release plan dealing with his accommodation,
health or family issues and potential employment."

Similar problems exist when youths are let out of juvenile justice
centres. Grass-roots welfare services do not have the resources to
see everyone who needs help.

The Inside Out Project operates from an old church building in
Collingwood. Its seven staff work long and irregular hours with more
than 110 males aged between 15 and 17.

The program gets $210,000 a year from the Department of Human
Services. An extra $130,000 is provided to find accommodation for
males whose lives are marred by abuse, drugs, mental illness,
criminal behavior and suicide attempts.

The Next Step project, run by Youth for Christ, gets about $200,000
to provide services for 12 to 20-year-old females and 10 to
14-year-old males released from Parkville Youth Residential Centre.

The Brosnan Centre in Brunswick cares for offenders aged between 17
and 25 released from youth centres and adult prisons. The Department
of Human Services provides $295,000 for its juvenile justice advocacy
program. All three services say they can't meet the demand with their
current budgets.

Aaron almost ended up like Andrew Charles. He left home when he was
11 after "getting out of control a bit" and found himself under state
care and living with older males. He began using drugs because
"that's all there was around". Car theft, assault and other theft
charges followed.

While serving 12 months in Turana, now the Melbourne Juvenile Justice
Centre, Aaron noticed Inside Out's youth worker, Wayne Clarke. They
talked, and trust eventually blossomed. When he was released, Inside
Out found Aaron accommodation with a family and he began work.

Two months later Aaron hit the wall. He was depressed and felt alone.
He had to front court after getting drunk and stealing a car. He used
heroin. He wanted to end it all. "Wayne found me and I was off my
head, using heroin again. Wayne just had a talk: I can either take
one road or keep moving on. He gave me encouragement to succeed. He
showed me more about life and what I could actually achieve by
myself."

That was two years ago. Since then, Aaron has re-established a
relationship with his mother and has resumed working.

Clarke says Aaron has a long way to go. Accommodation is a big
problem. State Government funding for Inside Out's accommodation
placement service cuts out at 19, and Aaron has to live in a boarding
house. Inside Out manager Andrew Dodds says the demand for service
exceeds what it can provide. The intensity of the support required by
young men was huge. "The kids who go into youth training centres have
very disrupted lives. Poor education, truancy, family breakdown,
history of substance abuse. They're not the kids from Hawthorn."

Drugs, particularly heroin, have had an enormous impact on prison
populations in recent years. Even though Victoria has a policy of
diverting young offenders rather than imprisoning them, the numbers
in custody have risen sharply.

In 1999 75 per cent of young male offenders in Melbourne Juvenile
Justice Centre reported heroin use, and for young women in custody
the figure was 85 per cent. Agencies that work with young and adult
ex-prisoners, as well as others that provide programs for drug users
and see ex-offenders not only want more resources, but new models of
care that do not rely on the criminal justice system.

The director of Jesuit Social Services, Peter Norden, says there
needs to be a recognition that people take drugs because they are in
pain and isolated, rather than simply on a self-destructive bent. "I
think if you're going to grab people, take them out of the community
for six months or six years, you'd better do something useful," he
says.

" ... most of what we are doing is cutting the ties, making the
person feel less able to be a participant in the community and
physically putting them more at risk of dying of an overdose when
they get back. They get back and no one wants to know them or they
don't belong or their ties with family are even weaker. That's why
people overdose or take their own lives."

Bernadette Walsh manages Connexions, an innovative program that works
with young people who use drugs and have mental health problems. The
large number of drug-related deaths are unacceptable, she says. "They
are valuable young lives. People tend to disassociate themselves from
young people like this and think they're just junkies or drug addicts
and are not valuable. But they are. They are valuable human lives
that deserve dignity and support."

Andrew Charles are his first and middle names. His parents requested
their surname not be used.