AT ANY other time the youngsters at the record deck would have been scolded for messing about.

The din blaring out of the sound system would have most of the adults scowling and wondering when they'll wreck the stylus.

But it's all okay and so is the colourful graffiti which adorns the wall of a room in Northallerton Remand Centre. It's all part of allowing them to express themselves, all designed to encourage them to go back to college once they've served their time. And it's an innovative project that could spread its way through Her Majesty's Prison Service.

Eighty five inmates, aged 18-21, sat the Connected course over the past five months - 65 passed, quite an achievement for the majority whose educational standard could be as low as a seven-year-old's.

Michael, 19, is one of them, the wry smile on his face a clue as to how pleased he is with himself. Chatting freely, his pleasant persona belies his present predicament, a two-year stretch for burglary and driving while disqualified. Like most of the youngsters inside, he claims he'll now go straight, but then he's said that on three previous occasions. This time, he pledges, it will be different, partly down to what he's learned on the Connected course.

"Now I want to be a youth worker and they told me that I would come out with a qualification," he says. "I thought it would be good for me and it proved a good course. You are not just going there and being bored, there are that many things to do and when one catches your eye you really look forward to it. I liked the photography. We took pictures with a digital camera and got them straight on the computer, which was good. They also teach you how to mix and scratch for hip hop and dance music.

"When I was at school I was never pushed so I just stayed off and from the age of 12 started doing garages. Now I wish I'd stayed at a school. But I'm out on March 6 and will get a job sweeping the streets if I have to, to stay out of trouble, do some voluntary youth work and some IT as well."

It's a marked change in mindset for Michael and many of the other youths who took the course. "A lot of them get kicked out of school and can't remember the last time they were in a classroom," says governor Martin Ward. "These certificates are the first things they have ever had and are a tremendous achievement."

The course brought together a variety of agencies with a common goal, including the remand centre, Connecting Youth Culture, North Yorkshire County Council, New College Durham and the Community Education Service.

Youngsters get to play with record decks, paint walls with graffiti art and make videos. But they also receive instruction on how to apply for jobs, fill in application forms and improve communications skills. Beneath the tough veneer of the young inmates often lies sadness and a desire to learn which is subsumed by peer pressure. Inside prison, they develop a common feeling that it is acceptable to learn and gain the tools to better themselves.

Life skills co-ordinator for the prison's education department Gill Bone says: "I think it's about showing them the different options and they might as well take part as there's nothing better to do. The skills we take for granted they have missed out on because of their home backgrounds. The course boosts their self esteem and gives them a sense of achievement."

One youth worker, who doesn't want to be named, says: "Although they produce all this wonderful work, a lot of the time it's about getting them to think about the options they have when they get outside. Sometimes the lads have so much about them you wonder how they ended up in here. Then you are told it's down to heroin. It's the biggest single factor. "

The drugs sub-culture is a difficult cycle to break. But prison helps and, once clean, a lot of the youngsters feel safer inside, where there's no pressure to go back to heroin. The course also reveals the alternatives.

"It's an exciting approach, trying to encourage them back into education," says Mr Ward. "Instead of being told they can do nothing, they can achieve anything. And when they get outside the feedback we are getting is that they go around hawking their certificates and saying 'what can I do now'? I don't have to sell the programme at all." The programme costs about £60,000, which may seem a lot to the layman but pales into insignificance if the inmates end their lives of crime. The days of sewing mail bags are over and the modern Prison Service is now charged with turning out people who can help relieve a national skills shortage. Then the scores of prisoners released into the community can become useful members of society.

"We would like to start the course again," says Mr Ward. "It means so much to us, it's so worthwhile. We would love to build on it and make it even more successful."