Signs of the Times - A Committee Christmas
December 2006
Criminal Justice: A Committee Christmas
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"We have community meetings in the four living units as often as the most civic-minded town. The meeting is called by a handwritten note stuck on the bulletin board. I always try to plan another urgent engagement during those times, but the callers of these meetings have the uncanny knack of selecting times that are unscheduled by others.

The meetings never start on time and there is always general confusion about who called the meeting, as though the notice on the bulletin board appeared magically of its own accord. I sometimes suspect a cruel prankster calls meetings and then doesn’t show up for them.

So the meeting begins with a confused shuffling and then we vote on who will be in charge. For the last five years, it always has been the same person. This time, however, when the meeting was called to attention, there was insurgency. Two new people jockeyed to rule the roost. They proved no match for the small woman with the big voice; the incumbent quickly rousted the opposition. A unanimous vote supported her.

Our elected leader explained the agenda for the meeting: community bingo, toilet paper, and Christmas. I can’t give you the details about the bingo and the toilet paper because I wasn’t listening. I would rather chew off my own arm than attend one of these meetings; I was only present to pay lip service to the principle of community spirit during the holidays. So I only tuned into the discussion when it turned to Christmas themes.

Ostensibly we are to brainstorm–to throw out ideas for our Christmas decorating theme. One of the extreme punishments I have had to endure during my incarceration is the Christmas decorating contest. This was a hideous concept initiated by an evil genius at VCCW about 100 years ago. For years these contests developed into elaborate schemes involving full blown dramatic productions–costumes, plays, dance routines, songs–and decorations that could hurt your eyes.

Some were incredibly clever. Some were incredibly ugly. But the sad effect of potato chip bag ornaments is nothing compared to the emotional meltdowns, the politicking, power plays, hurt feelings, screaming matches, and slamming doors of group creative endeavor. I don’t cry easily but I have cried over paper snowflakes and the brickwork of a chimney.

Much to my own chagrin, this horrible decorating tradition traveled with us to Fluvanna. The contest has been greatly scaled down, which makes it just that much more intense. Every single thing must be perfect, and since no thing is perfect in the eyes of two different women, a small display turns into a wing war with people taking sides. Every decoration is fraught with tension. I dread Christmas.
So the chairwoman of our meeting opened the floor for theme suggestions: “How ‘bout Santa’s workshop?” No–building 6 did that last year.

“How ‘bout Christmas around the world?” No–that’s boring. “How ‘bout an old fashioned Christmas?” No–building 3 did that last year.

Everyone sits quietly. It’s the same ritual every year. Now the committee head will tell us her theme idea. “Well, since nobody has any ideas, what about a Heavenly Christmas?” We ponder this.

“Let’s put it to the vote,” the chair speaks firmly. “Who’s for a heavenly Christmas?”

We all raise our hands.

“Heavenly Christmas it is.” Our dictator smiles benignly. “Now we will decide who will do what. Gloria …”

I scuttle back to my room and focus intently on the TV. I wonder how I will make it through another one of these committee Christmases. I mumble to myself, why can’t we enjoy Christmas by being kind and cheerful and generous on our own initiatives. I don’t understand why I need a committee meeting every year to tell me how to spend my holidays. Especially when it's only October." (Elizabeth Haysom, Fluvanna Review, December 7, 2006).

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.'


Comments? Questions? Write me at george@loper.org.