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Inmates Try to Break the Cycle
Nearly all of the crimes committed by the 13 men in this group were against minors. Only two of the men did not know their victims; the others had abused children to whom they were related through family or friendship. Some of them had been in the group for about five weeks, others for nearly two years. The youngest was 22 years old, the oldest 74.
After the group talked at length about the letter that VanCoppenolle received, the conversation turned to Robert G. Boyd III, who is serving a 7½- to 15-year sentence for aggravated felonious sexual assault against a girl.
He had recently been issued a disciplinary ticket by a correctional officer for failing to obey an order to dispose of a pair of old boots. Marsh asked, "What I want to know is, why didn't you do what you were supposed to do?"
The state has two prison programs for sex offenders.
The more intensive one at the New Hampshire State Prison lasts 18 months and is for moderate- to high-risk offenders. The men live in the same cellblock as part of a "therapeutic community," which essentially allows them to "call each other on their behavior," said Daniel Millis, the interim director.
There are about 85 offenders in the program.
The less intensive one lasts six months and is for those deemed at low risk to re-offend. There are now about 15 men in the program.
The men do not live in the same unit but gather twice a week at the state prison.
Sex offenders must complete the programs to be paroled. They begin their program toward the end of their minimum release date, before returning to the community.
The state has three prison programs:
A high-intensity program in St. Albans for sex offenders who are classified as moderate- to high-risk and have prior convictions for violent or sex crimes.
There are 48 beds, and the program lasts two to three years, with eight or more hours of treatment a week.
A moderate-intensity program in Springfield for offenders who are classified as moderate- to high-risk but do not have prior convictions for violent or sex crimes.
There are 27 beds, and the program lasts one to two years, with four or more hours of treatment per week.
A low-intensity program in Springfield will be established this year for up to 20 offenders who are classified as low-risk.
The program will last six months and involve two hours of treatment per week.
Treatment programs are available to any sex offender incarcerated for at least eight months, said Corrections Commissioner Rob Hofman. Treatment is not mandatory but it is required if offenders want to get out at their minimum release dates.
Offenders who do not participate must serve their maximum sentence.
Sex offender treatment includes:
Group sessions aimed at helping offenders change their attitudes and learn how to cope more effectively with the triggers that prompted their crimes.
Strategies for controlling deviant urges.
Courses designed to help them empathize with their victims.
Boyd, 24, said the guard had been giving him a hard time. The therapists asked him again about what was going on in his mind when he disobeyed the guard.
"Fact is, I went against the grain," said Boyd. "I did it my way."
As is customary, the therapists encouraged Boyd to connect his behavior to his crime. While they are in the program, everything must revolve around their crime. Seemingly unimportant thoughts, Mann had told them earlier, can end up with serious consequences.
"Why are you here?" Marsh asked Boyd. "Doing things your way?"
No one else in the room had the same path to sexual offending that Boyd did. Each says he had his warning signs, his own emotional and psychological problems.
"You can't say a sex offender does (that) because of this," said Kempton.
The offenders in this group were aware of proposed legislation in New Hampshire to toughen punishments, particularly the 25-year prison sentences for first-time offenders. Some of the men said long sentences were warranted for predatory child molesters, the kind who kidnap children. But they said they are different. They said they can change.
"Those of us going through the program are getting a lot," said Kempton. "I want to see people succeed when they go back out there."
Sex offenders say their crimes are rooted in a variety of feelings, ranging from anger to a heedless sense of entitlement. Not everyone who experiences such feelings commits sex crimes, however. What leads sex offenders to cross the line? No one has a definitive answer to that question. While some offenders are true pedophiles, the majority who commit crimes against children are primarily attracted to adults but have distorted thinking patterns and emotional difficulties that lead them to cast children in an adult role, said Mary Jane Egerton, a clinical social worker in Lebanon who works with sex offenders. One of the things Mann tells men in the program is that they are not horrendous people. They did a horrendous thing. The big difference between the rest of society and some sex offenders, she said, is "We've learned ways that aren't maladaptive to make ourselves feel better."
"I've got five months. I'm getting nervous." It was Mike Wilson's turn to speak. He will get out of prison soon after serving nearly 10 years on two aggravated felonious sexual assault convictions. His victims were two young girls he knew. Someone asked if he was nervous he'd re-offend once he got out. "Not afraid that I'm going to reoffend," he said. Kempton, who sat beside him, said, "You haven't been around that kind of environment." Wilson shook his head. "I don't see myself re-offending," he said. "I don't want any more victims." Marsh, the therapist, pressed Wilson for answers. "Is it that you don't trust yourself?" Wilson started to cry. He wiped his tears with his fist and said he was worried about how his daughters were going to feel about him now. "They're old enough to make up their own opinions. ... I'm so scared they're not going to accept me." Some of the other men nodded.
"I can live with that," said Wilson. "How?" Wilson said he would be moving out of the town where he lived before, but Marsh persisted. "What's your backup for dealing with your daughters' rejection?" she asked. Ask for help, Wilson said. "So does that alter your plan, whether you're accepted or not?" said Kempton. Wilson said, again, that he was not living in the same town as before. Mann, the other therapist, turned to him. "You know you bring yourself with you, right?" Wilson said he did. He repeated he'd ask for help. From whom? she asked. "My parole officer," he said. Marsh, the therapist, said that was a good answer. Parole officers want them to do well in the community, she said. Call for their help. If anything starts to happen, she said, even if it's just a child trying to talk to him, leave. Go to a police department, she told him, and wait until the potentially dangerous situation passes. "Anything's better than re-offending," Marsh said. Wilson nodded. The fist that had wiped his eyes now grasped his other wrist, holding it steady.
May not be reprinted without permission
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