Every year on Thanksgiving, Antoinette Kreiselmeier stashes a beautifully roasted turkey drumstick in her freezer, the one her son Jermaine would have claimed if he were at the Thanksgiving table with his family and not 30 years into a life sentence in prison.
Sometimes, not always, Antoinette can arrange a dinnertime Zoom call with Jermaine, now incarcerated at State Correctional Institution Somerset near Pittsburgh.
Inside and out, everyone laughs as Antoinette waves “his” drumstick in front of the camera, saying, “Here go your drumstick, J,” as she calls him. In the laughter, it’s almost possible to imagine a different scenario, and Antoinette feels thankful when she hears her son’s happiness across the miles and years.
Really, it’s a miracle that Antoinette can laugh at all or even celebrate any holiday. For years, she hid the pain of loneliness and grief — looking good and smiling through the days but shut down inside.
What keeps her going now, she says, is the Prison Society’s bimonthly family support group, conducted on Zoom with mothers, fathers, aunts, wives, and grandmothers from around the state.
“If I feel guilty about enjoying life and celebrating life. I can express that at the group meeting,” she said. “If I need to cry at the group meeting, it’s OK to cry without judgment.
“Not being judged and understanding and having compassion — don’t forget that word — compassion — is major,” she said. “That’s the best recipe for a support group.”
The Prison Society started the group about a year ago.
As an organization, the Prison Society focuses on the humanity and well-being of people serving time in prison. That’s why it has worked hard to help family members stay connected to their loved ones. For people in prison, connection to family is crucial to their mental and physical health and an important ingredient in a successful transition back to society when released.
For that connection to hold, however, the family members themselves also need support. Their issues are different, complicated, and painful.
As one loving aunt said in an early November family support meeting, “Every day I put on my backpack of sorrows. I go out and fake it, but I’m carrying these sorrows. I feel like I’m in prison. The whole family is in prison.”
“There aren’t many really structured spaces for family members to talk about what it’s like to have a loved one incarcerated and what they need to take care of themselves so they can take care of other people. So that’s why we started the program,” said Kirstin Cornnell, the Prison Society’s family and community support director.
The families appreciate the support. At the November meeting, a relative began to cry with gratitude as she related what happened after a Prison Society volunteer visited her nephew in prison. Her nephew was in good spirits, the volunteer reported, and was signing up for programs in the prison.
“She made such a difference, and the follow-up with my nephew was amazing,” the woman said. “Just when I was losing hope, she came out of nowhere, and it was a miracle.”
Antoinette, listening, chimed in, “We all share,” she said. “When one cries, we all cry.”
But, she said, “we have to encourage each other to hold onto hope.”
Many issues come up in the support groups. Family members trade practical tips, like how to access medical help and what clothes to pass through security on visits. “Always take a second set,” someone advised.
Beyond that, “there’s a swirl of emotions that families are trying to sort through,” said Jesse T. Brey, one of the group’s facilitators. Jesse understands the emotions firsthand. As a youngster, he experienced many of them as his father, in the grip of addiction, cycled in and out of prison.
It had an impact on him and explains why, as an adult pursuing a doctorate degree at Temple University, he has chosen to focus his research on the effects of incarceration on family members.
“There’s a lot of grief and anger,” he said. “Families are grieving. It’s a special type of grief — akin to somebody dying. The person’s not dead, but they are still gone.”
“There’s a huge hole in life,” he said. “The families are mourning the life they can’t have. You may be mad at the individual for what they did, and you are mad that you don’t get the life you pictured.”
At the same time, “you are always afraid for your loved ones’ well-being, and then you’re angry that you have to feel afraid and angry that there’s no one doing anything.
“The vast majority of the work that goes into supporting individuals falls to the families, and predominantly women,” Jesse said. “You have mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and daughters. They are writing letters, putting money on their commissary accounts, taking on those emotional burdens.
“It takes a huge toll on them,” he said. “Financially, emotionally and healthwise.”
And Antoinette has experienced it all, she said.
Soon after Jermaine received his sentence, his younger brother landed in prison with a long sentence. He’s now released.
Antoinette had no one to talk to about her feelings. She stopped celebrating birthdays and Christmas until her youngest son, then in his early teens, reminded her that he was still in the family and grieving too.
“He brought it to my attention. I was like, ‘Oh wow, you are right.’ I had to apologize. He went to school that morning. When he came home, I had a Christmas tree up and decorated.”
The group understands how that goes.
Visits and phone calls are wonderful, yet painful. Family members put on a brave face, not wanting to upset the person in prison, Antoinette said. People in prison put on their brave faces too, not wanting to worry their families at home. Everything’s not real and all too real at the same time.
When Antoinette’s son first went to prison, she experienced grief and confusion, but now that she’s older, a different worry has emerged.
“The biggest thing is when I leave this earth, who is going to continue to keep in touch with my son?” she said. Neither of his two brothers are talking to him. They say it’s too painful.
It’s not unusual, she said, for family members to disagree on how to cope with someone in prison. Should the person be mentioned? Should there be visits? Should incarceration be a secret from friends, coworkers, and neighbors?
For Antoinette, it comes down to her love for her son. “I’m trying to build a support system through organizations,” Antoinette said. “I’m hoping the Prison Society will visit him — that they’ll step up and visit him.”
Kirstin said she’s learned a lot from listening in on the meetings. She hopes someday there will be enough resources to set up separate groups for wives or for the families of newly incarcerated people.
Meanwhile, though, the group “is my favorite thing that we do,” she said. “I’m impressed with the resilience of the people in the group and the honesty.”