Signs of the Times - Toy Story
November 2004
Criminal Justice: Toy Story
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"A few weeks ago the most bizarre announcement came over the big voice in the sky. The voice told us to turn in all dolls and teddy bears immediately. As I sat pondering this message--surely I had heard wrong--the voice returned and clarified. 'Turn in all stuffed craft items by such and such. time or else.' I know it sounds silly, but it felt like a good hard slap across the face. I stumbled up the stairs and picked up my little green puppy dog, a stuffed craft item.

'It's just a child's toy,' I told myself severely. 'It doesn't matter.' Why then did I feel numb and scared? Because my small green puppy dog is a strong reminder of my humanity. There are still soft places in my heart and I want them to stay. The puppy remind me to be playful and silly, to retain a quirky sense of humor, never to take myself too seriously but always to treat the matters of other people's hearts with dignity and respect. The puppy reminds me I'm not just a murderer and that goodness and decency exist everywhere if I make the effort to look hard enough. My green dog reminds me that dreams and opportunities don't always arrive in quite the way we expect--to be open to an agenda different or larger than my own. But the dog had to go and I was not going to be a baby about it. Things change. Learn. Move on.

I bagged up the dog and filled out the paperwork and turned in my stuffed craft item. I refused to think about it. I could imagine complaining to my visitors. 'They took my stuffed animal.' And the appalled expression of their faces. 'They let you have toys?'

(May I remind you the birdman of Alcatraz had birds. Just call me Green Dog!)

A few days passed. I didn't have a nervous breakdown or anything but there was this empty spot at the end of my bed. Then late one evening I came in from work, pulled off my boots, hoisted myself up on the bunk and came eyeball to eyeball with my green puppy dog. He had returned!

A week of so later the story unfolded about a miscommunication. How easy it would have been for them to just throw away all the stuffed animals and never say anything. How easy it would have been never to admit to the mistake. I mean who cares? A bunch of convicts and their stupid toys? But someone did. Someone made sure every single appropiate and legitimate item was returned to every owner.

So now my little green puppy not only reminds me of my own humanity, but also that of a single officer who went to the time and trouble to set things right. Perhaps green dog isn't just another story after all." (Elizabeth Haysom, Fluvanna Review, November 11, 2004).

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.