Last week, Frances Gallagher wrote about her feelings as a first time visitor inside Dungavel Immigration Removal Centre. When it had been agreed that Justice and Peace Commissioners from each diocese in Scotland would sign Christmas cards for the Dungavel detainees, I was happy to be the one to go with Frances and to start the ball rolling, as my connection with the centre goes back two decades.
Our reactions would be very different, but the shared experience was, I think, very valuable.
First we had to make sure the cards would be approved by the centre – it’s called a removal centre these days as asylum seekers there are intended to be removed from the UK.
Commissioners signed cards on the day of our December meeting. Numbers fluctuate daily, so we had to check with the management – and we added cards for the Dungavel manager and other members of staff. A date was agreed for delivery and the manager invited Frances and I to have tea and cake with her.
Frances, as you will have read in last week’s blog, was understandably disturbed by the procedure for getting inside the detention centre but having visited last year and made many visits in the first few years that the centre was open, I was not concerned.
In fact, I found the procedure changed for the better. We entered by a different door and although there was still a reception desk, no thumbprints or photographs were taken, no body search made. It was ‘suggested’ that we leave our bags at reception.
We were allowed to keep the box with the Christmas cards.
My ‘first’ that day was being in the main part of the house, which was originally a 19th-century hunting lodge and summer retreat of the Dukes of Hamilton. We were taken up a grand staircase to meet the manager in her office. Frances was introduced to her and we discussed the number of detainees and their spiritual needs. The manager said that if Justice and Peace Scotland could help increase the centre’s involvement with the Catholic Church, she would take care of the necessary paperwork. She also suggested the possibility of a Justice and Peace Commission visit the centre to meet with detainees.
New to the job, the manager’s PA showed us some artwork by Dungavel detainees which she had chosen to decorate her new office. Our thought was that this talent should not be in a detention centre but rather be free to be explored in the community. There were other talents locked up there instead of sharing with our communities: the manager was expected to judge a baking contest downstairs.
Because she had spent longer with us than intended, the manager had missed the judging, but said the baking all looked great. What a pity it was detained behind locked doors.
We left feeling slightly conflicted. We detest the centre’s existence, but there is a level of caring evident at Dungavel. The ethos of the manager at the centre permeates through the staff.
I’m sure all of us who have campaigned for the past 20 years hope that our presence outside those fences has in some way contributed to the current atmosphere inside.