The sense of community established on popular TV show Orange is the New Black, in reality, doesn’t seem too far from the truth.

You could be forgiven for considering some time in prison as a desirable option/break from normality after watching the close bonds formed and new skills learned.

I am usually a law-abiding citizen. But when I was sent to prison I didn’t want to leave.

Let me tell you, it’s not all doom and gloom behind bars. In fact it’s the complete opposite.

That’s what I found out when I was sent to the Brisbane Women’s Correctional Centre recently — on assignment.

Other than the odd parking and speeding tickets, I haven’t done anything serious in my time.

But since the visit I’ve had a different outlook on my law-abiding ways.

For a start, these women doing time for crimes from stealing, arson, murder to armed robbery are living in air-conditioned units and cells.

I don’t even have air-con at my house.

media_camera The Women's Correctional Centre in Wacol’s prison library. (Pic: Josh Woning)

It’s understandabe why the average tax payer sees red on hearing stories like this.

If you’re an eye-for-an-eye type you’d probably want people who have committed murder or burnt down a business with intent to cause suffering, to in-turn suffer in prison, alone and with nothing.

But they don’t.

It was eye-opening to witness the top treatment these incarcerated women at Wacol’s high security prison were receiving.

media_camera Prisoners can work as carers for RSPCA foster cats. (Pic: Josh Woning)

They can work and earn some cash within the prison grounds. It’s not a lot, but still, it’s something.

Some are employed as landscapers and hairdressers, others care for RSPCA foster cats. They are always occupied with something to do or an activity to take part in.

These criminals can also study behind bars. They can gain myriad of skills and experience to, on their release, gain employment in many industries from hairdressing to personal training. And some of the courses available are government funded.

So, commit a crime and learn how to become a barista, work in horticulture or get a gig in hospitality.

Doesn’t sound too bad does it? Own a pet while you’re at it too.

Seems like a free ride with plenty of privileges to me.

And if you think that sounds grand, what about bringing your kids to prison with you?

media_camera Prisoners can get fit in comfort. Not too shabby. (Pic: Josh Woning)

Not everyone can do this I must say. It’s up to inmates to apply to have their kids (aged up to five years) live with them behind bars.

Walking through the residential units for mothers, everything seemed too good to be true. From cots to baby clothes to milk bottles and play equipment, everything is provided for these crims. Never mind having a baby shower or stockpiling your hard-earned, I thought to myself.

These women have access to midwives, counsellors and even children’s playgroups and day care (off-site).

This isn’t a judgement at the individual women, just an observation at the overall scenario. They all have their individual stories.

The overcrowded prison is no doubt filled with talented prisoners, many who express their feelings through art or embroidery classes.

Some use their talents for good by making gowns for Angel Babies — an organisation that supplies gowns made from donated wedding dresses for babies who don’t survive after birth — others knit coats or make toys for rescue animals.

The courses and activities provided are part of a rehabilitation program with hope to improve or change past behaviour.

But it seems a bit over the top.

These prisoners are living the life. They are getting luxuries not many other women in our community have.

I know of women who are living week to week trying to afford rent, raise a family and send their kids to school.

No doubt they would like to study, go to yoga classes and paint all day.

I’m sure there are deprivations these women suffer, but it isn’t exactly “hard time”.

Originally published as I went to prison — and never wanted to leave