The Bell-O-Gram Area III of the American Guild of English Handbell Ringers Delaware Maryland Metropolitan Washington, D.C. North Carolina Virginia Volume 31 May 2006 Number 3 METANOIA by Bob Wheeler Metanoia, the handbell choir at Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women in Troy, Virginia, is now in its fourth year of making beautiful music. Although the performances are all within the walls of the facility, Metanoia (the Greek word for “change”), a name the women chose for themselves, plays for occasional Sunday evening worship services, the annual Volunteer Appreciation Banquet, and semi-annual graduation ceremonies, as well as doing two 45-minute concerts each year, one in the spring and one in the fall. FCCW is a maximum-security prison for 1200 women. When I as Associate Pastor and Minister of Music at Broadus Memorial Baptist Church in Charlottesville, Virginia, took my choir and handbell group to the prison for a worship service in 2001, I never dreamed it would lead to a handbell ministry there. The women went wild over the bells. Most of them had never heard or seen handbells. With encouragement from my wife and Chaplain Lynn Litchfield, I decided to try starting a group. I took the volunteer orientation, obtained my security clearance, and met my first volunteers in January 2003. I had no idea what to expect when the first session was called. I was not nervous or uncomfortable about being inside a prison because I had taken choirs to perform in prisons for many years. However, I was apprehensive about the abilities and attitudes of the inmates. As it turned out, half of the women who came to audition knew nothing about music, while the other half had some experience on violin, flute, or piano during their high school years. It quickly became obvious that they were there to learn and were taking the opportunity seriously. I spent the first three months teaching more music theory than bell techniques. Even more impressive was the way some who knew how to read music worked individually with those who were learning during the week. Some of the women took their music to their cell each week and practiced ringing with pencils or plastic spoons. And they all pitched in and quickly learned to break down the equipment in less than five minutes in order to rehearse as long as possible. The ladies wanted to know how to address me. When I told them the children at the church called me “Mr. Bob,” it immediately became my name to both inmates and guards, not only in Metanoia but throughout the prison. And my wife, Edie, is now “Mrs. Bob,” while my 90-year- old mother who came to a recent concert is “Grandma Bob.” For six months I carried three octaves of bells and all other equipment except tables from the church to the prison every Thursday evening. Each bell case had to be inspected each week. The equipment was transferred from my pickup to the prison pickup since the rehearsal area is about a quarter mile from the main entrance. Fortunately I live about ten minutes from the prison because more than once the bell cases and pads were exposed to rain and snow and had to be dried out when I got to the house. After six months it became evident that bells had caught on at the prison and would be an ongoing ministry through the chaplain’s office. Members of my church, family and friends contributed funds to purchase three octaves of Malmark bells, three octaves of Malmark chimes, and all the other equipment needed. Metanoia even has tie-dyed burgundy performance gloves from the Raleigh Ringers to match their prison outfits. Once we got our own bells, two of the women got permission to set up during the afternoon, once again to save rehearsal time in the evening. It was amazing to see the women bond as a group. They never criticize one another, yet often lend a word of encouragement or praise. They have learned to work as members of a team, depending on one another rather than relying only on themselves. They have grown in self confidence, realizing they can learn a new skill and do it well. They have found a new way to express their worship, thanking God for this unexpected opportunity. As one lady puts it, “when I am playing bells I forget I am in prison.” The bells have brought a flood of beauty into the sterile environment of the prison. Since early 2005 the ladies of Metanoia have been playing level 3 music. They have taken on the status of celebrities at the prison. But more importantly, they have grown intellectually, socially, and spiritually, as well as musically. One of the highlights of 2005 was a level-3 piece of their own titled Metanoia. Philip Roberts at GIA Publications decided to compose and donate the piece dedicated to Metanoia after meeting me at a national music conference and learning about this musical ministry during the summer of 2004. The piece is in a rondo form with themes representing “change,” “repentance,” and “transformation.” Appropriately, the main theme involves Change Ringing. This is a meaningful piece as it symbolizes the changes that have taken place in many lives at the prison. Mr. Roberts and his wife traveled from Chicago to Virginia for the premier of this work last October. It is to be published soon by GIA. The ministry continues to expand. In late 2003 my wife and another bell ringer from the church, Louise Marchi, became official volunteers at the prison and come to the weekly rehearsals where they spend time bonding with the women who are not playing on a particular piece. And one more friend is waiting for her security clearance so she can join this nurturing group. I retired from the church on December 31, 2005, and started a second bell choir at the prison in January of this year. They rehearse in the afternoon so we only have one setup each week. Both groups performed in the Spring Concert in April. God is opening many doors and plans are underway to expand the general music ministry at FCCW in the months and years ahead. A TAPESTRY OF COMFORT Handbells—the simple act of picking up each bell, flicking my wrist and hearing its sweet ring—is to step out of my shackles for an all too brief moment. Passion, strength, beauty, love and peace sing out in every note as they weave together to form my tapestry of comfort. Though I coin myself “the happiest person in prison,” there is much unspoken pain, loneliness, and depression behind those words. Handbells lift those unspoken ghosts and allow me to truly be happy, to truly be free. No matter what chaos, disorder, or hurt my daily life revolves in, I know that once a week on Thursday night I will leave this place for three hours and reach a place other women here only dream of. Words cannot express how grateful I am to have had such an amazing experience, or how devastated I have been without it. Let me tell you the story behind a piece I wrote….. by Philip L. Roberts Several miles east of Charlottesville, Virginia on U.S. Highway 250 is Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women, a maximum-security prison where about 1200 inmates are incarcerated. It is also home to the only women’s prison handbell ensemble in the United States. They call themselves Metanoia which in New Testament Greek means to change, repent and be transformed. The members of this unique ensemble believe that metanoia reflects how ringing handbells has altered their lives. One member of the group writes periodic articles in the local paper. The following is an excerpt from one article… The eleven women of Metanoia play the bells with a certain awe. How frivolous, how ridiculous, how marvelous and amazing to be in prison and be afforded the rare privilege to make music together! For every worship service that Metanoia plays, the women invite other inmates—friends, acquaintances, strangers, coworkers—to attend. The bells erode barriers. They draw people to worship. The generate merriment and laugher and praise. They create an atmosphere of thanksgiving. Moreover, since many people in prison don’t often have the opportunity to laugh out of delight or have much for which they are grateful, Metanoia is an agent of change with the prison community. Most of all, the bells teach life lessons for the members of the ensemble—lessons in patience and diligence, in working together, in self-worth and value and the importance of every person. The fruit of Metanoia is evident when one woman whispers to another, “I think I might get my GED. If I can do this, surely I can get that math.” I met “Mr. Bob,” as the ringers call him, a couple of years ago in Alexandria, Virginia at a Baptist Music Conference. He was looking for some unique two and three octave music for his “girls.” For some reason I thought that he must be talking about his daughters, but after a few minutes I realized that he directed a handbell choir in a maximum security prison! I was amazed and kept in contact with Mr. Wheeler. One thing led to another until Sept. 25, 2005, when my wife and I had the honor of attending a worship service at Fluvanna Correctional Center. We were there to hear the ensemble perform Metanoia, a piece I wrote for them. Metanoia has three themes.