Yesterday I had an interview for a job, working in two of our local prison libraries.
When I’ve mentioned this to people over the past few weeks, their eyes widen and I can see them working out how to react. The thing is having thought hard about what is involved, I really want to work there. I’ve visited both prisons, and I find it quite difficult to put into words just how inspired I was. Both prisons present challenges – I’m not totally middle-class-naive about the potential issues – but I was amazed at what is offered to inmates and just how positive the atmosphere is. A rooting of self-esteem, nurtures change for the better. I absurdly, passionately, want to be a part of it. For the past few weeks and perhaps foolishly, I’ve made the idea of the job a part of my life.
I don’t think the interview went very well. I came out feeling like I hadn’t shown the best of myself, which is frustrating. I wanted to express what I think I could do for them, and fear I fell short. Everything I’d meant to say came to me as I was leaving to building.
Still, I know what I want to do now. If they don’t want me, I’m going to find out what I need to have the best chance next time.