Last night, my comrade Tommy posted the following video and message on his Facebook Page:
Here is a powerful video a member of We Get Free Media, Joshua Penny Roberts, about Police Brutality. He connects the brutality that happened to a member of Kuumba Lynx outside our space this summer to a long history of it back to the most recent executions of #EricGarner, #MikeBrown, and #EzellFord at the hands of the police.
Watch and see and please share. Filmers include Tyjuan Reed and Esther Ashaye
I’m sharing the video below because it is timely.
Also, a reminder that today is the National Moment of Silence in solidarity with Michael Brown and all victims of police violence. Find details about your city here. I’ll be at the Chicago vigil at 6 pm. at Daley Plaza. Hope to see you there too.
Death In Yorkville
(James Powell, Summer, 1964)
by Langston Hughes
How many bullets does it take
To kill a fifteen-year-old kid?
How many bullets does it take
To kill me?
How many centuries does it take
To bind my mind — chain my feet –
Rope my neck — lynch me –
From the slave chain to the lynch rope
To the bullets of Yorkville,
Jamestown, 1619 to 1963:
Emancipation Centennial —
100 years NOT free.
Civil War Centenntial: 1965
How many Centennials does it take
To kill me,
When the long hot summers come
The image is seared in my mind as I type through my tears.
I’ll never forget the man in the picture below holding a cardboard sign that reads “Ferguson Police Just Executed My Unarmed Son!!!” Yesterday, 18 year old Michael Brown was shot at least 10 times by police. He’s dead.
The image is a declaration and an affirmation of humanity; a father making a way out of no way to insist that his son’s life mattered. A man standing before us devastated yet stoic holding a screaming sign announcing his son’s execution. Michael had kin. He was loved. The image is a declaration and affirmation of that too.
I’m bone tired and my mind is racing…
I’m thinking of Julian (not his real name) still recovering from being shot in Florida. Julian who talks extra loudly on the EL because as he tells me: “they need to know that I was here.”
I’m thinking of Max (not his real name) who warned me that the cops were out to lock him up and is now serving time in adult prison after cycling in and out of juvenile court for crimes of survival.
I’m thinking of James (not his real name) who tells me that he won’t live to be an old man. James who is 22 years old now and bought me flowers last Valentine’s day with his second paycheck ever. I tell him that he should save his money and he assures me that he won’t be here ‘but for a bit.’
I’m thinking of three young black men living in the in-between. I’m not sure how much longer I can live there too. I need my own sign but I’m so tired and I have lost my words. I’m looking for some cardboard and some hope.
I started this blog in late June 2010. I forgot to mark the 4 year anniversary in June because I’ve been so busy. The past few months have been a whirlwind basically. When I first started blogging, I wanted to use this space as a running work journal; a parking lot for the inchoate ideas that I have pertaining to juvenile justice, prisons, and transformative justice.
I honestly never thought that anyone else would be interested. But over the years, this blog has developed a core of regular readers. One of the things that I most appreciate is that readers sometimes reach out to me to offer encouragement, ask questions, and share ideas. I am grateful that you take the time to read and to share your own ideas and struggles. I am particularly moved when currently and formerly incarcerated people reach out to me based on something they read here.
In the past few weeks, I organized and edited an anthology, co-curated and opened an exhibition, co-organized countless events including a major community protest against youth criminalization, helped launch a new coalition to address police violence against young people, wrote grant proposals, wrote and released a couple of data reports, wrote several essays slated for publication, spoke on panels, facilitated workshops, did the day to day administrative work of running an organization, taught two college courses, and tried to live a life where I still interact & engage with my loved ones all while regularly posting on this blog. It’s been a lot to juggle and I need a break.
So for the next few days, I won’t be posting (unless something significant moves me to do so). I should be back to regularly writing here in a couple of weeks. I leave you with an excerpt from a new poem by one of my favorite writers/poets Nikky Finney written about/for Marissa Alexander!
Marissa Alexander has been granted a new trial.
She waits for her new day in court under house arrest.
This time she could go free.
This time she could get 60 years instead of 20.
For defending her life, her life that no one else historically has ever
stepped up to protect, for sending her ruby red flaming pink flamingo flare
into the salty air, her Black woman mama bear warning, that she was alive,
that she would not go missing, her human refusal, to not be
another Black woman legally & immorally abducted from her life.
Please consider making a contribution to Marissa’s legal defense fund here or purchase an item from the Free Marissa store here. The latest items added are these great patches created by Mary Scott Boria and being modeled by me.
Like many others, I saw the video of Denise Stewart’s assault by NYPD cops.
Perhaps unlike others though, I was most interested in the response of those watching rather than in the violence of the cops. I expect police officers to abuse black people so that’s not shocking anymore.
In the first few seconds of the video, a man is heard repeating: “Are you serious? That’s a woman. That’s a female. Where the female cops? That’s a female. That’s a female.” Then someone else (presumably a cop) says: “Shut it up! This has nothing to do with you.”
Clearly, the speaker assumes that a woman should be treated less harshly than Denise Stewart. Yet what kind of treatment at the hands of law enforcement is appropriate for a ‘female’ if she’s black? Black women have never had the benefit of protection by and from the state. As importantly, black women were not and haven’t been spared from brutal treatment. What historian Sarah Haley (2013) has termed “the absence of a normative gendered subject position” for black women explains (in part) how the NYPD can violently drag Denise Stewart out of her apartment half naked and manhandle her. She is ungendered to the cops and as a black person she is unhuman to them.
Ms. Stewart’s lawyer claims that the police knocked on the wrong door that night. But I would contend that under the current regime of racist policing across the country, there is no such thing as ‘mistaken identity’ for black people. We are all suspect and susceptible to police violence at any time, anywhere, for being black. This fact is undeniable. The people in blue are voracious and they crave black bodies. They are insatiable and rapacious. Let’s do away with euphemisms and imprecise language: U.S policing is and has always been inherently anti-black.
The speaker on the video’s question “Where the female cops?” belies how the cops are in our heads. We don’t question their necessity even as they are brutalizing us in the hallways of our apartments. The question should always be “Why are you here?” We must train ourselves to ask it. More black police officers, more women cops will not alter the fact that policing is oppressive.
One reason that the police were in Denise Stewart’s building is that someone called the cops to report a disturbance in another apartment. We have to begin to divest ourselves of the police and start finding ways not to call them. This will not end oppressive policing but it is an important step towards harm reduction. Below is the result of one simple call to the police:
“Denise Stewart was charged with assaulting a police officer, and she and her 20-year-old daughter Diamond Stewart were charged with resisting arrest, criminal possession of a weapon, and acting in a manner injurious to a child.
Stewart’s 24-year-old son Kirkland Stewart was also charged with resisting arrest, and her 12-year-old daughter was charged with assaulting a police officer, criminal mischief, and criminal possession of a weapon.”
The family also claims that a 4 year old child was pepper-sprayed during the incident. There will be no counseling for the members of the Stewart family who have been traumatized by the NYPD. Instead, there will be lawyer fees, countless visits to court, lost wages, nightmares, and zero justice. Most people (except those directly impacted) will or already have forgotten this incident. As I type this, the NYPD is probably terrorizing another black woman as the ghost of Eleanor Bumpurs (who Audre invited us to remember) hovers overhead.
“and I am going to keep writing it down
how they carried her body out of the house
dress torn up around her waist
past tenants and the neighborhood children
a mountain of Black Woman”
Because Audre taught me well, I am going to write down how the NYPD dragged Denise Stewart out of her apartment at almost midnight in a towel that quickly fell off leaving her in her underwear half naked pressed against a wall gasping for breath calling out for oxygen because she suffered from asthma until she crumpled to the floor having fainted but 12 cops didn’t know that and they simply walked around her to go harass and harm her children and her grandchildren….
I’m going to keep writing it down…
Marissa Alexander is a person. She is also fighting a case and that case illuminates a greater cause. But she is a human being. This is something that can be overlooked. It’s easy to do for a number of reasons. Most defendants are advised by their attorneys to keep quiet while facing charges. This creates a vacuum. If the defendant is lucky, others step in to speak for them and to act as their surrogate filling in the gaps in their story. This is the position in which Marissa finds herself.
And so it falls to others to find ways to keep her name and her story in the public’s mind. It falls to others to devise creative ways of engaging new supporters. It falls to other to convince people that they should care about the defendant and that they should offer material support for a prisoner.
One of the important lessons that I’ve learned in my years of prisoner defense committee work is how isolating and lonely the criminal legal process is. This is particularly true for detainees who find themselves jailed while awaiting trial or a plea deal. It is difficult to make peace with the loss of your freedom when you haven’t been convicted. Letters and other communications are lifelines for those who find themselves in such a predicament. The knowledge that people on the outside care about you, haven’t forgotten about you, and support you is encouraging. Often it makes the difference between giving up and staying hopeful. That line is an excruciatingly thin one.
— Free Marissa Now (@freemarissanow) July 31, 2014
— Free Marissa Now (@freemarissanow) July 31, 2014
— Free Marissa Now (@freemarissanow) August 1, 2014
— Free Marissa Now (@freemarissanow) August 1, 2014
According to Mary Mitchell, “gun-toting teenagers in Chicago are practically laughing at police.” Her solution is for the Chicago Police Department (CPD) to implement New York City’s recently ended stop and frisk policies and practices as a violence prevention measure.
What a sad and pathetic ‘solution’ to interpersonal violence. Mitchell suggests that citizens should willingly forfeit our civil rights and be subjected to more violence in order to decrease interpersonal violence. It makes no sense and is a destructive idea. Mitchell is advocating that Chicagoans cede even more power to a police department that is renowned for its corruption.
On Sunday, I sat in a peace circle with Jaime Hauad’s mother, Anabel Perez. Ms. Perez spoke about her son’s tortured confession secured by CPD. She showed us a copy of that day’s Tribune which had a front page story on her son’s experiences.
“Jaime Hauad was 17 and in the middle of two days of questioning — and alleged torture — by Chicago police investigating a double murder when he saw his chance, his attorneys say.
There, in a hallway as he was led to his second lineup, were his white Filas, gym shoes that he alleges police took from him after they lowered the blade of an office-grade paper cutter over his shoes, while he wore them, slicing at the tips and threatening to cut his toes to try and coerce a confession.
Hauad said he quickly grabbed the shoes — the tips had by then been completely removed — and quietly asked another arrestee, whom he knew from his Northwest Side neighborhood, to switch shoes with him. Take the Filas to my mom, Hauad urged as he took his pal’s Nike Scottie Pippen-edition shoes, and tell her they are trying to get me to confess to a murder.
The shoe switch 17 years ago didn’t prevent Hauad’s conviction and life sentence, as he had hoped, but it was documented in two Chicago Police Department lineup photo arrays, providing “before and after” views that persuaded the Illinois Torture Inquiry and Relief Commission to conclude that Hauad’s torture story was credible and his case worthy of review.”
This is the department that Mitchell advocates be allowed to randomly stop and frisk people across this city. Last week, someone on Facebook posted a video of the Chicago Police Department chasing down and then arresting a 9 year old boy in North Lawndale on the West Side of Chicago.
Watch the video and notice how tiny that little boy who they are arresting is. Notice how many cops there are around him. Imagine how scared he was. Then imagine giving even more license to CPD to stop and harass 9 year old black boys across this city. I refuse. So do many others living in Chicago.
This Saturday, August 2 the We Charge Genocide working committee will launch a project in Chicago by hosting a youth hearing on police violence at Roosevelt University. From 1 to 2 PM, Chicago’s youth will put the system of police violence on trial, breaking their silence to confront the targeted repression, harassment and brutality disproportionately faced by low-income people and young people of color.
Youth aged 25 and under are invited to share their experiences. Personal and community stories of police violence will be told, such as the recent incident where a young man named Damo by the police, hit his head, and later died.
One of the organizers of “We Charge Genocide,” 19 year old Richard Wilson explained the reason for organizing a youth hearing:
“If you’re young and poor and black or brown, the police see you as a criminal. Young people are the future of this city, but you wouldn’t know it by the way we’re treated. Police violence and harassment are a reality in our neighborhoods but we aren’t powerless, we’re putting the system on trial.”
We Charge Genocide is a grassroots, intergenerational effort to center the voices and experiences of the young people most targeted by police violence in Chicago. The name “We Charge Genocide” comes from a petition filed to the United Nations in 1951, which documented 153 racial killings and other human rights abuses committed mostly by the police.
We Charge Genocide seeks to address this tradition of violence by offering a vehicle for needed organizing and social transformation through documentation of youth experiences with the Chicago Police Department, and through popular education both about police abuses of power and about youth-driven solutions and alternatives to policing.
Everyone is invited to attend the youth hearing on Saturday. Details are here.
I am incredibly grateful to everyone who organized and took part in the excellent Chicago Community Gathering in solidarity with Marissa Alexander on Saturday. The gathering was the culmination of a very busy month of events that members of the Chicago Alliance to Free Marissa Alexander (CAFMA) organized initially anticipating that her trial would kick off today. CAFMA later learned that the trial was postponed until December and used the events to continue to educate Chicagoans about Marissa’s case and to fundraise for her legal defense.
This month, hundreds of people attended a teach-in about Marissa’s case, the opening reception of the “No Selves to Defend” exhibition, a screening of the film “Crime after Crime” followed by a panel discussion, and finally the community gathering on Saturday.
For myself, it’s a true blessing to organize with my fellow CAFMA members. We are all fully committed to supporting Marissa in her fight for freedom. I hope that others in Chicago will join in the fight. You can see Chicago’s contribution to Free Marissa NOW’s http://www.freemarissanow.org/selfies-for-self-defense.html project here.