Thursday, January 16, 2025
During the holiday season, many look forward to a plethora of festive celebrations and enjoying quality time with family and friends.
However, for incarcerated individuals and their families, the holidays can intensify feelings of loneliness and sorrow as each navigate restricted visitations and the reality of spending another year away from loved ones.
Destiny Villarreal spent 25 years in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ) units in Gatesville until her release before Christmas in 2023. First incarcerated at only 16 years old, she said the holidays often left her feeling alone and without hope.
“It felt like there was no hope, because it was so isolated, and even though they provide a holiday meal, it was emotionless, and it was to the point where a lot of us would shut down,” Villarreal said.
When she was first incarcerated, TDCJ had not yet installed a paid phone system where inmates could make calls to family. The state became the last in the nation to allow inmate phone access after they installed the system in 2009.
Along with a few visits from her mother, Villarreal said she mostly remained connected to her family through handwritten cards that she looked forward to receiving each year.
“Those moments and times when I was able to talk to my family was refreshing,” she said. “It was like a breath of fresh air. It was like there's hope again.”
Despite the hardships, Villarreal recalls meaningful moments with fellow incarcerated women and prison staff that helped her make it through the holiday season. While at the Mountain View Unit, now named the Patrick O’Daniel Unit, she said one kitchen staff member would try to incorporate festivities like decorating the chow hall and preparing a special meal.
“He tried to make it as best as he possibly could, so everybody could know that - despite where we're at - that somebody does love and care,” she said.
She adds that outside organizations and ministries that devoted time to visit and bring donations to the prison also made an impact on her life.
“Those organizations, church ministries, and those prison officials, no matter who they were, they helped mold me into the person that I am today despite it all,” she said. “Because now I'm out here giving back to the community and organizations, because somebody came in there and showed me that they love and care about me on holidays like that. If it wasn't for those moments, I probably would have given up.”
Now, Villarreal is back home with her family in San Antonio. She enjoys giving back to her community as well as helping formerly incarcerated women as a volunteer with Lioness Justice Impacted Women’s Alliance.
Families of Incarcerated
Every three months, Lionel Hernandez and his wife, Virginia Hernandez, travel from South Texas to visit their daughter who is incarcerated in Gatesville.
When his daughter was first incarcerated, Lionel describes the challenges he encountered when he first spent the holidays away from his child. With limited visitation time, his family only receives a few hours together.
“At the beginning, it was very hard. We didn’t know how to deal with it, because you have to travel so far and spend only a couple of hours together, and that's it. That's the holiday,” he said.
Along with short visits at the prison, the Hernandez’s must balance spending the holidays with the rest of their family. Lionel said they have a schedule where they travel to Gatesville to see their daughter ahead of the holidays each year before returning home to spend time with the rest of their family.
“When you go back home, you think about other things that you miss with your daughter being in this area,” he said. “I wish there was a way that we could take our daughter home for the holidays, which is impossible, but that's sometimes how we feel about it.”
Lionel and Virginia stay at Central Texas Hospitality House when they visit their daughter in Gatesville, where they also meet other parents and families who share a similar experience.
“They understand how you feel and the time you travel just to get here, to go visit the person you're visiting,” Lionel said.
“Instead of paying for a hotel, we prefer to bring stuff here and then leave a donation so they can help other people,” Virginia adds.
Casey Polen, whose son has been incarcerated since he was 18 years old, said the hardest part is seeing an empty chair at the table each season.
She said she looks forward to one day celebrating the holidays with him again.
“I haven't cooked a meal for my son since he was 17, and he's 32,” Polen said. “I just cannot wait until he gets out and I could cook some normal food, because what we get to give them in the visitation room is a lot of junk food out of the vending machines. A mama really wants to give their child some good food and cooking, so I'm looking forward to that.”
Bringing Families Together
With six TDCJ prisons in Gatesville, thousands of incarcerated individuals and families share similar feelings with Villarreal, Polen, and the Hernadez’s. However, regional organizations such as Be a Coffee Bean Foundation hope to create more meaningful experiences for families affected by incarceration.
In November, the foundation collaborated with TDCJ to hold events that bring children and their parents together ahead of the holidays.
According to a TDCJ press release, the founder of the organization, Damon West, hand-delivered 200 Elf on the Shelf kits during family day events at four of the TDCJ units in Gatesville, including the Hughes Unit and Patrick O’Daniel Unit.
“The goal was to help incarcerated parents connect with their children in a meaningful way during the holiday season, using the elf as a conversation starter and relationship builder,” said Amanda Hernandez, Director of Communications for TDCJ.
The event provided incarcerated parents and their children with an opportunity to bond over the elves, read the Elf on the Shelf book, and spend a day dedicated to family time.
“It’s a good feeling to spend time with my family and get to do something new. I’ve been in prison eight-and-a-half years, so I haven’t had a chance to do nothing like this with my son,” said Dominique Betancourt, who is incarcerated at the Hughes Unit.
