"Metanoia, the name of the hand bell choir, is New Testament Greek for change. Etymologically, it is related to metamorphosis–transformation–or in the more hip vernacular–morphing.

Metonoia is a celebration of rerouted energies, so it was apt that the hand bell choir played for the Department of Corrections education graduation ceremony. As one woman put it, “We were the band.”

Before our performance, I was agitated because I feared we would be lynched by an angry mob of disgruntled graduates because we were not going to play the traditional pomp and circumstance music. Instead, we were to play an aria with flute. The flutist, a musician of high caliber, was a friend of our leader and founder, the Rev. Robert Wheeler. We call him Mr. Bob.

Mr. Bob is a restless guy. He’s always adding new elements, instigating changes, shuffling us around; he’s always dreaming up new things. Doing so, he steps on toes; doing so he makes all sorts of outrageous things happen.

First he had the ridiculous and extravagant notion of a hand bell choir in a maximum-security prison. We then not only became a choir, we became a choir with our own three-octave set of bells. From there we grew into a larger choir with our own three-octave bell set, a two-octave chime set and assorted percussion instruments.

By 2005, Mr. Bob, in his tireless energetic way, sparked the interest and enthusiasm of a music composer–an editor of a Chicago publishing house. We became a hand bell choir with music written for and dedicated to us. It was a natural step for us then to perform a recital, a concert of 16 pieces of music in order to debut the Metanoia Suite in three movements.

Of course, the composer and his wife had to fly in from Chicago to be present for the debut. All of this to reach my point that arranging a flute player to perform at graduation with us was a minor undertaking for a man of Mr. Bob’s skills and determination. Now that Mr. Bob is retiring, he will have more time to work. Consequently, he is currently auditioning for a second hand bell choir in order to provide the Metanoia experience to more women.

Metanoia likes to think of the new group as the daughter of Metanoia. Change spawning change. Mr. Bob is already looking ahead to other ideas and possibilities. He leaves me breathless. Not a man to sit back on his laurels. Or let us get too comfortable. It’s irritating. It’s beautiful. It’s an adventure. And we go where he leads.

Sometimes we go with a lively debate, but we go, as with the aria and flute rather than with pomp and circumstance. We were not lynched. In fact, the following day when I was at visitation, several visitors spoke to me about how unbelievably and amazingly awesome the hand bells had been. (Mr. Bob is right again! Change. Create new traditions. Be forward looking.)

The Metanoia experience is challenging. The very essence of playing the bells is the bell changes. Shifting one bell to another hand or picking up and releasing bells. If the bells don’t change, the music is at best bland, at worst discordant. Bell changes take practice. And some are much more complicated than others. But you never stop changing. It’s dynamic. It morphs.

Like Mr. Bob. He’s always working on changes–improvements–the next thing. He is always striving to find new ways to make the music better, our performance better and the music of our lives better.
He makes me crazy sometimes (most particularly when he’s right), but I am astonished at how he, by ringing a few bells, has enriched my life. He brings Metanoia to an ever-increasing circle of people." (Elizabeth Haysom, Fluvanna Review, November 24, 2005).

Elizabeth Haysom is presently incarcerated at the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women in Troy, Virginia. This column is one of a series, published under the general heading 'Glimpses from Inside.'