The supermarket can wait

His first outing in years, and it is already too much. Too many lights. Too many people. All he wants is to go back to the prison.

‍

For a long time, that risk was built into the way outings worked.

‍

For years the process had always been the same. A man would settle in for a month or two, then custody staff would apply for him to be approved for grocery outings. Four supermarket trips, roughly one a week, served as a tester. Pass that, and further reintegration outings would follow: the bank, other shops, a visit to the Pathway offices. 

‍

The trouble was the test itself. Grocery outings were all fitted into a single day, one man at a time, with officers moving in and out of the prison gate from first thing until late afternoon. The days were long for the officers and rushed for the men. And for someone who has spent years behind the wire, a supermarket is rarely a gentle first step back into the world.

‍

"For some guys, groceries are ideal. They can go and do that, no trouble," says Uelese, NI Unit Lead. "But the majority of guys we come across, it's actually highly stressful. And they won't say anything, because there's a fear of losing outings."

‍

Uelese had seen where that silence leads. He spent years supporting men out in the community after release, and much of what tripped them up, he says, could have been worked on inside. Small, institutionalised habits, like reaching in front of someone in a busy aisle without realising how it affects the other person. 

‍

So he put a different approach to Corrections: let Pathway take on the outings process. The unit team now assesses when each man is ready, prepares the applications, and shapes a stepped plan around the individual instead of a standard test. For many of the Tū Ora, the best first outing is not a supermarket at all. It is a quiet visit to the Pathway offices, to meet the team and see the place, with groceries to follow. Custody staff still escort every outing. What has changed is the thinking behind them.

‍

Changing it meant new paperwork, new processes, and setting aside a way of doing things that had been in place for years. Corrections said yes. In a prison, routine is part of what keeps everyone safe, so reworking one is never a small ask.

‍

The early difference is hard to miss. When a man is not ready for an outing yet, he hears it directly, and he hears why. "The guys seem a lot more at peace," Uelese says. "We can just talk it through together, where things are at."

‍

The supermarket is still there. It can wait until each man is ready.

‍