Yesterday there was a lake outside the window, laptops covering the deck, mail sorted across every available surface, meals squeezed in between projects, and some of our favorite people gathered in one place doing the work we usually do from miles apart.

             

Today, there are boxes. And bags. And bins. And a cooler in my living room. 😂.

This is the part of a volunteer weekend that doesn’t usually make the pictures: unloading the car, putting the office back where it belongs, figuring out which pile goes where, and discovering that somehow half of Adopt an Inmate appears to have moved into your house overnight.

But there’s another kind of aftermath, too.

We came home carrying much more than supplies and mail. We came home with ideas we finally had time to work through together. Projects that moved forward. Conversations that went places we didn’t expect. A new matching app getting closer to the finish line. Hundreds of pieces of mail handled by actual human hands, now on it’s way to humans inside.

Liz 💗 flew in from California to be with us — fresh from having her third baby, no less. Liz is our Communications & Engagement Specialist, but that title barely captures what she does. Many of the adopters who follow our work have heard from her personally. She helps finalize matches, keeps adopters informed, follows up on all the little details that make those connections possible, and helps keep our ever-growing database accurate and up to date. She does all of that while raising three children, being a wife, working a full-time job — and still makes the time to devote herself to this work. We appreciate and love you dearly, Liz. Buzz Fest simply could not happen without you.

Scott, one of our local mail-processing regulars, stopped by as he always does. Scott works steadfastly on mail throughout the year, and Buzz Fest would not be complete without a visit from him to drop off completed work, share a meal, catch up with everyone — and, very often, take out the trash. 😂 We appreciate all of it.

 

Eric and Anne came all the way from North Carolina to be with us, and by the end of the weekend they had become part of the mail-processing crew — learning our systems, sorting and working through stacks of correspondence, and even taking mail home with them to continue processing after their trip. Somewhere along the way, they also adopted two more people inside.

Watching Anne settle into the work was especially lovely. She jumped in with her whole heart, learned quickly, and stayed busy.

And then there is Eric’s happy dance. 😂 If watching this man celebrate doesn’t make you smile, I’m not sure we can help you. His enthusiasm is absolutely infectious — and fortunately for us, he brought plenty of it to Buzz Fest.

Brian joined us on our last full day for a sound bath on the deck overlooking the lake. He talked with us for a bit, and led us through a guided meditation that was a profound highlight of the weekend. He spoke candidly, about addiction, the isolation of incarceration, and his recovery. He didn’t polish the story or skip the ugly parts. That honesty opened the door to a conversation about prison, mentorship, expectations, failure, and what it actually means to keep showing up for another person. (You can follow Brian on YouTube @BWSoundbath.)

It was powerful. It was raw and generous and honest. It was healing. And I know every one of us carried something away from it.

And then there was Leah. 

This year’s Buzz Fest was her first real outing beyond doctor appointments since her surgery, so she spent the weekend hobbling around, doing her exercises, resting only when she had to (rarely) — and still somehow getting an enormous amount done. Because that’s what she does.

Today is also her first official day back at work, which means she is probably discovering that “returning to normal” is a very rude concept. 😂

And although Rick couldn’t be with us in person, he was very much part of Buzz Fest from his home in Arizona — on the phone with us, troubleshooting, testing, and working furiously behind the scenes to get our new Blueprint matching app ready to launch.

None of this exists without him.

Thirteen years ago, from a phone in county jail — innocent of the charges against him — he said to me, “There’s a lot of good people in here. And a lot of sad stories. I want to do something to help them.”

That sentence became Adopt an Inmate.

And here we are. Still opening letters. Still matching. Still collaborating. Still doing good.

Rick knew it from the inside. Brian’s life tells us the same thing. So do thousands of people whose letters continue to pour in.

There are stories and talents and humor and generosity and wisdom in people who have been locked away and intentionally isolated from the rest of us.

Warehousing human beings does not make us safer or better. Throwing people away does not create accountability, healing, or change. Connection does.

So today, we put things away. We answer the emails that accumulated while we were together. We figure out what comes next.

And maybe we move a little slowly.

We all carried something home from Buzz Fest.

Some of it is currently piled in our living rooms.

Some of it is headed all the way back to North Carolina.

And some of it doesn’t fit in a box at all. 🐝💛