A mouse peeked through a crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife unwrapping a new mousetrap.
Terrified, he ran to warn the other farm animals.
“There’s a mousetrap in the house!” he cried.
The chicken clucked dismissively, “That’s your problem, not mine.”
The pig grunted unconcerned, “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t affect me.”
The cow barely looked up and mooed, “This isn’t my concern.”
Feeling alone, the mouse hid in fear, knowing the danger remained.
Later that night, a snake slithered into the house and got caught in the mousetrap. The farmer’s wife, investigating the commotion, was bitten by the snake.
Gravely ill, she was bedridden with a high fever.
To comfort her, friends came to visit, and the farmer had to kill the chicken to feed them.
Her condition worsened, and more friends arrived, prompting the farmer to slaughter the pig.
Sadly, the wife passed away.
Many people attended the funeral, and the farmer slaughtered the cow to feed everyone.
In the end, the mouse watched with sorrow, realizing the profound truth—what seems like one creature’s problem quickly becomes everyone’s problem.
This story vividly illustrates empathy: recognizing and caring about the struggles of others because those struggles can ripple outward, impacting us all. Empathy means understanding and sharing the feelings and experiences of others, recognizing that our fates are interconnected. When we fail to empathize, believing a problem isn’t ours simply because it doesn’t affect us directly, we allow suffering and injustice to grow unchecked, ultimately harming the entire community.
In the context of Georgia’s prison system, this tale of empathy offers a powerful lesson. When society turns a blind eye to the suffering, violence, and systemic neglect within prisons—believing it’s “someone else’s problem”—the consequences ripple outward.
Violence, abuse, and neglect in prisons spill into our communities through increased recidivism, broken families, and broader societal harm. Ignoring prison conditions because they don’t immediately affect our daily lives is like the farm animals ignoring the mouse trap. Eventually, these issues surface, affecting families, communities, public safety, and even the economy.
To improve Georgia and Georgia’s prison system, we must cultivate empathy. We must recognize inmates as fellow humans, each with their own story, deserving humane treatment.
Empathy compels us to demand reforms—improved medical care, humane treatment, accountability, transparency, and genuine rehabilitation efforts—because we must see prisoners as humans with inherent dignity and potential. By empathizing with prisoners, their families, and communities affected by incarceration, we are ultimately creating a safer, more compassionate society for everyone.
As the farmer’s animals learned too late, our shared humanity binds us all. Every act of empathy, every moment of understanding, brings us closer to justice and away from tragedy. We must see beyond our own immediate concerns and care about the wellbeing of all, including those behind prison walls.
