Learn more about the origins of this lynching map here

Haiku
by Etheridge Knight

1
Eastern guard tower
glints in sunset; convicts rest
like lizards on rocks.

2.
The piano man
is stingy at 3 A.M.
his songs drop like plum.

3.
Morning sun slants cell.
Drunks stagger like cripple flies
On jailhouse floor.

4.
To write a blues song
is to regiment riots
and pluck gems from graves.

5.
A bare pecan tree
slips a pencil shadow down
a moonlit snow slope.

6.
The failing snow flakes
Cannot blunt the hard aches nor
Match the steel stillness.

7.
Under moon shadows
A tall boy flashes knife and
Slices star bright ice.

8.
In the August grass
Struck by the last rays of sun
The cracked teacup screams.

9.
Making jazz swing in
Seventeen syllables AIN’T
No square poet’s job.

Here is another image that we will be featuring in the upcoming Black & Blue exhibit. All of the events that are part of the Black & Blue programming can be found here.

Today, I am sharing a comic by artist Eric Garcia. He depicts the case of Chris Drew. All of us who knew Chris even a little bit were saddened when he passed away from cancer last year. I wrote about Chris briefly here after Tiawanda Moore was acquitted back in 2011.

I’ll be sharing other pieces of art that will be on display from March 18 through March 29th.

by Eric Garcia (Please do not reproduce)

Bringing Down the New Jim Crow is a radio series produced by Chris Moore-Backman. Below is a description:

Inspired by Michelle Alexander’s groundbreaking book THE NEW JIM CROW: MASS INCARCERATION IN THE AGE OF COLORBLINDNESS, this series of radio documentaries explores the intersection of the drug war, mass incarceration, and race in the contemporary U.S.

Listen here.

It’s Women’s History Month and my friends are pretty great… My friend, Katy, made this coloring page illustration of Audre Lorde and the PIC. Feel free to copy and share with the young/older people in your lives. You can download the PDF HERE.

by Katy Groves

I am really excited about an upcoming series of events about policing, violence, and resistance that I am currently organizing. The events kick off on March 18th and include an art exhibit designed by my friend Billy Dee that opens on March 19th. I am excited that we will have several pieces of art created by youth. Throughout this week, I plan to share some of the artwork that will be on display from March 19-29.

We begin with art by Anderson Chaves who is a member of LuchArte here in Chicago.

“Life” by Anderson Chaves (do not reproduce without artist permission)

Artist Statement:

“Life”
Anderson Chaves
Acrylic on Canvas

Fifteen-year-old Anderson grew up in Cicero and is a sophomore at Morton West High School. He wants to attend college but is unsure at this point what he wants to study. Psychology, business, and art are interests of his but he has a lot of things on his mind. He isn’t sure where to go or what to concentrate his ideas on. One thing for sure is that he is a dreamer and is committed to following through with his word.

The painting symbolizes him in the center, kneeling down to the ground. The cloud above represents his dreams of what he wants to accomplish in the future- graduation, having a family, painting, and earning his diploma. Below, on the ground, resembles items from his past, but in a way are still his present: a gun, a knife, alcohol bottles, and money. As Anderson is trying to get better and recover from his past, it takes him a long time to get there. However, it takes the officer as little as 30 seconds to push him down and make him feel like a criminal.

On the side of the painting there is a tree without leaves or branches, which represents death. The scene is depicted at night, because life looks differently when the sun goes down in his neighborhood- the kids stop playing in the streets and gunshots resound. Stabbings, shootings, and alcoholism are rampant. The cops are more likely to harass him at night, because no witnesses are present to defend him.

Anderson is depicted clutching a rosary because it is the thing that has helped him the most. In order to get through the day and to get to his future and what he wants to do with his life, he depends on God to carry him. If he could say one thing to the viewer of this painting: God works in mysterious ways.

I read all of the time and am always coming across interesting snippets of information including quotes, etc… Sometimes I file them away for a future post. Other times I just lose the information and then kick myself for not taking down some notes.

I’ve decided to share these loose notes on the blog as a way to catalogue them for potential future use or reflection.

Today’s quotes and snippets are from the October 19, 1970 issue of the Liberated Guardian. A friend just mailed a few copies of the newspaper to me because he knew that I would appreciate them. And I do. Thanks Eric!

Below is the opening paragraph of an article titled “Revolt Explodes in City Prisons.” The article covers a series of uprisings that took place at several New York City jails starting on October 2, 1970. Two of the most famous of these revolts are ones that take place at the Queens House of Detention and at the Tombs located in lower Manhattan. [Interestingly several of the key organizers of these prison rebellions are transferred to Attica prison & become leaders of the Attica Uprising less than a year later].

Everyday in New York’s black ghettos, and where unemployed whites hang around bars and get into fights, an occupying army of policemen makes sweeping dragnet arrests. You get busted for carrying a knife, for assaulting a cop, for haggling with storeowners, for punching it out with a guy who cheats at dice, for taking a joyride in someone else’s car. If you don’t get shot or killed by the cops, you are hauled to a precinct house, then booked on some charge and carried in a crowded fetid police van to a city lock-up… to wait for trial. Sometimes you wait for two years. You wait where there is no light and no air, no protein, no real beds. Where there are guards who won’t tell the prison doctor when you need medicine. Rats and roaches and garbage encrust the walls and the halls. Your body stops thinking about nourishment. You are denied access to law books but you don’t have the energy to read them anyway. Your bail is so high you don’t even dream about getting out on bail. If you’re Latin and don’t speak English, you couldn’t understand the law books to begin with. Or talk with your state appointed lawyer if you ever got one. You are at the bottom. You are an animal.

The following excerpt (which I love) also appears in the article:

Q: What is your name?
A. I am a revolutionary.
Q: What are you charged with?
A. I was born black.
Q: How long have you been in?
A. I’ve had troubles since the day I was born.

Robert Black, black prisoner-negotiator in a dialogue with a reporter at the negotiations.

“The American judicial system is bankrupt. In so far as black people are concerned, it has proven itself to be one more arm of a system carrying out the systematic oppression of our people. We are the victims, not the recipients of justice (Angela Davis, 1970).”

I witnessed a young person break down in court about a month ago. It was devastating. I am still shaken by the experience and I can’t write about it because it isn’t my story to tell. In addition, I try as much as I can to avoid too many posts about the connections between my vocation and my emotions. Today’s post, then, will be exceptional.

I’ve decided to take a break from going to court. It became clear that it was time to step away when I found myself fantasizing last week about standing on my seat and screaming at the top of my lungs: “We Accuse, We Accuse, We Accuse.” I became concerned when I realized that I was actually in the process of standing up during court proceedings before I caught myself and abruptly sat back down. My fantasies threatened to get the best of me. I knew that it was time for a hiatus. Sometimes, things fall apart…

I talked to a friend yesterday. Ze is a youth worker and we spoke about burning out. Ze said that this past week had been difficult. It wasn’t the day-to-day trials and tribulations of working with youth in real crisis that put ze over the edge. It was a few words expressed by one young person that did it: “You know a lot of these kids aren’t going to make it, don’t you?” That was it. It was the last straw in a week with an accumulation of small and big stresses. Sometimes, things fall apart…

I’ve been thinking a lot about the young person’s words and I’ve been thinking about self-delusion. In order to do the work that my friend and I do, we have to override the voices that sometimes tell us that all may be lost for a particular young person. We have to fight against despair and more importantly against giving up hope. It is difficult when we know what the odds are for some of the youth with whom we work. Structural oppression combines with their sometimes unhealthy responses to it to make survival uncertain, precarious. Sometimes, things fall apart…

Some young people are in the process of committing slow-motion suicide. I am a witness to it. There, I said it. It’s hard for me to write the words. It feels like giving in. Sometimes it’s difficult to find the right words to make a difference. I conjure Gwendolyn’s spirit and ask her to transfer some of her strength into me. What would she say to these young people?

Sit down. Inhale. Exhale.
The gun will wait. The lake will wait.
The tall gall in the small seductive vial
will wait will wait:
will wait a week: will wait through April.
You do not have to die this certain day.” –
(From: To The Young Who Want To Die by Gwendolyn Brooks)

Sometimes, things fall apart…

I can’t find the words for that young woman who has no sense of herself but insists (with false bravado) that she is the most beautiful person on the planet. It’s clear to anyone with eyes and ears and a heart that she doesn’t believe a word that is coming out of her mouth. I don’t have any more words right now. What would Lucille say to this young woman?

listen,
woman,
you not a no place
anonymous
girl;
mister with his hands on you
he got his hands on
some
damn
body!
(From: what the mirror said by Lucille Clifton)

Sometimes, I fall apart…

When I was much, much younger, I used to love fairytales. All of them. I loved a happy ending. Now as a grown woman, I’ve retired my love of fairytales. But I still love happy endings (however rare they are). I cling to the idea that transformation is possible. I believe that structural change is possible. If I didn’t, I couldn’t get up in the morning to do the work that I do every day. But today is hard for me so I ask Michelle for help:

And tomorrow when there are people to comfort you,
or you find those damned keys,
Return to the same well versed competent woman you are.
Hold your head up.
Breathe deeply.
Return to your life unmarred, recovered and complete.

As though none of it ever happened.
As though none of it could ever happen.
Ever.
(From: For Strong Women by Michelle T. Clinton)

I’m tired. It will pass. Tomorrow I will glue the pieces back together…

I am featuring more terrific work by my friend Rachel Marie Crane-Williams for Women’s History Month. This is her comic titled Women & the Prison Industrial Complex (PDF).

From the Dignity in Schools Campaign:

On Monday, March 4th, youth of color from across the country held a rally on the grounds of the U.S. Capitol followed by a march to the White House to call on Congress and the Obama administration to reject school safety policies that criminalize students of color, immigrant youth, LGBTQ students and students with disabilities, and push them out of school.

Dignity in Schools Campaign (3/4/13)

Youth and parent leaders from states including California, Georgia, Mississippi, New York, and Washington, DC gathered to give testimony about the impact of increased police presence, armed guards, metal detectors and zero tolerance discipline policies in their schools and communities and to demand that the voices of youth of color be included in the conversation on gun violence prevention and school safety.

Speakers urged legislators and the White House to focus on investing in proven positive approaches to discipline like Positive Behavior Intervention and Supports (PBIS), social and emotional learning, Restorative Justice, and the hiring and training of counselors, social workers, and community intervention workers.

The rally began at 4pm with an opening speech by Jasmine Jauregui, a youth organizer with the Youth Justice Coalition from Los Angeles, “We all traveled many miles to share the solutions that communities and students of color are proposing because we strongly believe that the solutions coming from Congress are not what will keep us safe. We have seen how attempts to increase school safety with armed guards, police and prison-like conditions have failed. We want to be certain that no student gets left behind in the legal system. We demand college prep, not prison prep”.

Please read Jasmine Jauregui’s opening speech. It is excellent. Here is video of her speech as well.

You can also listen to this radio report about the rally.

Colorlines also produced a terrific video of youth speaking about these issues.