Prison Radio
Heather Jarvis

Hello my name is Heather Jarvis. I’m calling from the Ohio Reformatory for Women in Marysville, Ohio. I sat down with Margaret Kenny, and it was probably the hardest of the interviews thus far. Her aura, for the past year that I have lived beside her, is a fortress. I’m not scared of the person she is or what I’ll find. I’m scared that I’m not going to be enough to hold her up and bolster her suffering in a way that she deserves. But we are all enough. I’ll say it again. We are all enough.

She’s been hurt by every person she has ever trusted, even the people who were supposed to keep her safe. She had a mother that took amusement in her suffering. She became an addict young when that mother gave her her first dose of opiates. She didn’t know values. All she knew was rejection, hurt, and neglect. She never stood a chance. “I would be dead,” she stated. Her wish is that the system would see the people in front of them, actually see them. She wonders, with tears in her eyes, if she will ever get a chance to redeem herself. Prosecutors don’t understand the weight of what they’re holding.

She leaves behind a beautiful boy. Her biggest regret, not getting to see him get married or have a child of his own. “The fact I’m going to continue to miss out keeps me up at night,” she said with tears. “I never got a chance to say sorry.” Her deepest desire is one conversation with her son. “Will I be given a chance in my son’s eyes, God’s eyes, in my own eyes, to redeem myself? The public appointed attorney was supposed to be the best. So why didn’t I get to say sorry to my victims? Why don’t I get a chance at forgiveness? Do I not deserve that?” she asked me. “They made me seem heartless.” I wanted to scream “Of course you do,” but I nodded solemnly. The woman in front of me is far from heartless. “I don’t claim my sentence, just hope God has a purpose.”

The hardest thing is not her time. She has accepted it. She just struggles with opening up, letting people in. Today her walls are down. She is letting you in, America. So here’s Margaret: “What I want people to know about me. I’m a mother, a sister, an aunt, but most of all, I’m a human being capable of feeling. My life has been filled with abuse, rejection. My chest has been broken over and over again by people who were supposed to keep me safe. I sometimes think of that word, faith, and what it means, and I’ve come to realize I’ve never known that feeling.

I’ve lived a life filled with drug abuse to escape my reality as the life I was given and I often ask myself: ‘What would my life have been like if I had been dealt a different hand, if I had had a mother who loved me, if I didn’t come from a broken home. What did I do to deserve such a life filled with pain and heartache? The older I got, the more walls I put up, and the stronger I became. What I left behind is my son, the one good thing in my life, the one thing I was good at.

I’ve often asked myself, am I a monster, an evil person? And this is what I came up with, ‘No, I’m not evil. Yes, I’m worthy of God’s love, so why am I not worthy of yours?’ I’ve never understood how the Justice System works. When you go in front of that judge, do they see you or just a number? Do they think, or consider, what made you into the person who is standing in front of them, waiting to be sentenced?

Often times, I don’t feel human or normal. I guess having to train yourself at the age of 10 to not cry or show fear because the person who is hurting you enjoys the pain she is inflicting on her child, the child she’s punishing, because the child looks like her father. My trust was broken long ago. I grew up not trusting anyone, not having a life a child is supposed to have, like making friends, going to the mall, hanging out.

I’m 45 now, and I do not know how to comfort someone when they are hurting, or share my feelings and open up. I’m socially awkward. People ask me, ‘How can I walk around with a smile on my face knowing I’m doing a life without sentence?’ And I tell them, ‘I’ve accepted my sentence because, yes, my actions led me here.’ I want other women who see me to have hope, to know you can be strong, you can get through this. And if my story can help someone else from making my mistakes, then that helps me get through my day.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still upset that I was dealt this hand. The system turned its back on me, and instead of helping me, it locked me in a box and threw away the key. Do I not deserve a second chance? Can I not be redeemed? Is my life not worth saving? I wish I could go back to the night of my crime and change the outcome. I would have walked out that door like I did so many times before. But they say God has everyone’s path picked out to them, so he knew what I was going to do before I did it. So I ask, ‘What was his purpose for this? Is it to help someone lost like me?’ That’s what I have to tell myself. Some days it’s hard to keep my faith, to not question God. I struggle silently within myself, hiding my pain, hiding the scared little girl who is still lost somewhere inside me, hoping the world doesn’t see that I’m vulnerable, that I’m lost and I’m confused.

If I could send a personal message, it would be a heartfelt apology to my victim’s family. I was denied that right, as I sit, between the two people I put my trust in, who was supposed to be fighting for me, who was supposed to tell my story and make everyone understand the life I was dealt. Instead, I was just another case on their docket. I’m truly saddened when I think about all the lives that were destroyed the day I made the choice I made. Please understand, I’m human, and like you, I’m capable of making mistakes. But I’m far from a heartless monster.

To my son, the most important and most valuable thing I have in my life: I wish I could give you back all those precious years we lost as mother and son. I’m deeply sorry for all the years that are yet to come that I denied you of. I regret not seeing you go from a sweet, blue-eyed, innocent little boy into the man you are today. I know you’re going to be a great one. I’m so very proud of you. And know when I talk about you, which is quite often, I talk about you with pride and awe, because even though you were dealt the hand you were dealt, you’re going to do wonderful, great things. I’m so proud of you Jonathan Ryan Murphy. I can’t say that to you enough. Please never forget you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re my sun in my darkened sky. I hope one day you will open your heart and your life back up to me and give me the chance to be the mother that you deserve. My name is Margaret Kenny, and I am a life worthy of progress.”

These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.