Today's Topics:
1. PALANGH ITAM: INDONESIAN BLACK CROSS: Brick by Brick:
Building a World Without Prisons By Layne Mullett
(a-infos-en@ainfos.ca)
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Message: 1
Reading time: 40 minutes. It is highly recommended to read it at leisure. ---- Since the publication of Michele Alexander'sThe New Jim Crow:
Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindnessin 2012, there has been much talk of the need to end Mass Incarceration . More and more
people are talking openly about the moral and financial implications of maintaining the world's largest prison system. However, what it
means to end mass imprisonment, and what is needed to end it, remains unclear. ---- Mass imprisonment plays a central role in maintaining
state and capitalist power in the United States, and abolishing the prison system should play a central role in the movement for radical
change. Mass imprisonment allows the state to perpetuate unpopular economic policies, which are unlikely to succeed in the face of strong
resistance movements. While reform efforts can cause mass prison structures to shift, and lead to a decline in the prison population (as has
happened in some places), a more fundamental transformation is required if we hope to see a real shift rather than a cosmetic change to the
meaning and practice of "justice."
Our efforts to end mass imprisonment cannot be rooted in reforms, but must address the structural roots that have given rise to the world's
largest prison system. We must create a movement that penetrates our differences and builds our strength. The prison system is at the point
of contact of various forms of oppression, so we have to produce intersecting analyzes and resistance. Supporting political prisoners,
developing capacities to withstand state oppression, and embracing meaningful forms of justice and healing, horizontal models of sharing
power , and feminist and queer ways of understanding the many possible futures are all part of the struggle. this.
Many of the ideas put forward here come from people organizing against mass imprisonment, and these movements are on the rise.
Unfortunately, so is state repression. For example, in 2013, the FBI announced that it had added Assata Shakur to the FBI's "Most Wanted
Terrorist" list for a $ 2 million reward. As a former member of the Black Panther Party (BPB) and a member of the Black Liberation Army),
Assata escaped from prison in 1979 and has lived in exile in Cuba ever since. Assata's placement on the wanted list, apart from being bad
news of course, also tells us something about the strength, or potential strength, of radical and revolutionary movements. Did the FBI think
Assata Shakur would launch an attack on the United States? Not. But to the country he is worth $ 2 million, whether he is alive or dead,
because of what he represents. Assata is a global symbol of the Black Liberation movement. The FBI targeted him because they knew that the
legacy he represented was strong enough that they destroyed him, and the $ 2 million was worth trying.
We need to recognize the power of our movement too. Not only because history is important, because it is, but also because we need this
strength to plan for a different future. The persecution of political prisoners, the rise of state surveillance, and the mass imprisonment
of the poor and people of color are all part of a system designed to prevent the kind of revolution that Assata and many others champion.
Recent years have seen some small steps of progress, with massive strikes at state and federal prisons and prison centers, as well as the
release of political prisoners such as Lynn Stewart, Marshall Eddie Conway, Eric McDavid, Sekou Odinga, and Herman Wallace (just days before
his death). Grassroots campaigns targeting punishments and parole practices have won reforms in states across the country, and protests
against austerity and authoritarianism continue to erupt around the world.
The same month that Assata was placed on the "Most Wanted" list, in my own little corner of the world, I conducted a 100-mile march with
Decarcerate PA, a grassroots campaign working to end mass imprisonment in Pennsylvania. We marched from Philadelphia to the Capitol in
Harrisburg to protest the $ 400 million expansion of the Pennsylvania prison system and demand that those resources be directed toward
community needs.
As part of the parade, we tried to create many avenues for people to participate, and to unite many different visions of a future, without
prison. We worked with people across the state, children and adults, people inside and outside of prisons, to create hundreds of flags with
visual representations of what we would build instead of a prison. Responses included schools, mental health care, true historical
education, transformative justice, freedom, swimming pools, and "dinners without missing family members." We took this flag to Harrisburg
with us to present it as our "people's budget". Although not everyone can physically line up with us, their ideas and visions go with us.
Many Decarcerate supporters in Pennsylvania prisons also sent statements to read at rallies, take to the governor's office, or share with
demonstrators at our recess to help motivate us to keep going. Many people wrote to us to say they marched with us, in spirit if not in
their body. They eloquently and emphatically express problems with the system as it is, and offer a vision for the world as it should be.
This is just part of one such statement, from Eduardo Ramirez:
" My words, my soul, I share with you all. I offer myself in solidarity with your struggles when you offer yourself to me. I cannot line up
with you, but know that my spirit is there - as if you are here. I hope to comfort you, because my brethren and I are comforted by your
presence and commitment. 'If the abolition of slave slavery begins as a vision for unshackled hands, then this is the year'[1] ... Let this
be a year of famine filled with Angel Bread, ignorance faced by the understanding of the hand of love, and greed overcome by the will of the
believing People that investment should be made in the release of people rather than for their confinement . "
Eduardo's words remind us to take seriously that every day we must not just "hold the vision of the hand unshackled," but take the risks
that are needed - big and small - to make it happen.
The rise of mass imprisonment
In the US there are more than 2.4 million people held in prisons, confinement, and in state and federal prison centers; millions more are on
probation or parole, house arrest, or some form of supervised release. And we are all subject to a growing amount of data tracking and
surveillance under broad and sophisticated country scrutiny. These systems of surveillance and punishment are designed to keep people
subservient and give us a sense of necessity about the presence of the state, dampening ideas about possibilities, redistribution of
resources, or more equal social relations. At the same time the repressive state apparatus has grown, the politics of austerity in response
to the real and produced crises, eliminating much of what remains of the welfare state.
The rate of imprisonment began to increase dramatically in the late 1970s, on the back of the Black Liberation movement and other social
movements. From 1950 onwards, worldwide revolutionary movements increased. >From 1957 to 1975 alone, the independence movement overthrew
colonial governments in 15 countries in the Global South .[2]Thiswave of revolution shook the foundations of the capitalist, imperialist
system and helped spawn a similar movement in the US. The Black Panthers, the American Indian Movement, the Chicano movement, the Puerto
Rican independence movement, and the movement against the war in Vietnam all put forward a radical critique of what was going on, and
illustrate a vision of a different kind of what the world can afford.
These movements seriously threatened the US government and resulted in a repressive crackdown. In 1956, the FBI launched the
Counterintelligence Program (COINTELPRO) to infiltrate, disrupt, and destroy radical and progressive movements and their leaders.[3] Between
1968 and 1971, the FBI was involved in forty Black Panthers murders.[4] Even more brutal repression was directed at the American Indian
Movement and its supporters. Between 1973 and 1976, the government was responsible for sixty-nine murders on the Pine Ridge reservation
alone.[5]And thousands of people across the country were subjected to lesser forms of oppression - harassment, surveillance, imprisonment,
threats and general harassment of movement activities. Many remain in prison as a result.
This overt oppression went hand in hand with the buildup of policing and prisons in general. State and corporate interests saw the
revolutionary movement, and Black Liberation in particular, as a direct and immediate threat to their rule. In addition to (and often
associated with) direct revolutionary targeting, they built up a military police force and expanded prisons and confinement across the
state. The first SWAT teams were designed to target the Los Angeles Panthers,[6] and early super-maximum control units and prisons were
built to accommodate political prisoners.[7]But these tools of oppression were quickly deployed on a mass scale as a means of deterring
future organizing efforts in oppressed societies. The mass imprisonment was, in part, a direct response to radical and revolutionary
movements, especially because they were so powerful. The purpose of this is not only to suppress existing movements, but also to prevent
future movements from emerging.
From the Welfare State ( Welfare States ) to Her Majesty's Prison Society ( carceral States )[8]
As the prison industrial complex ( prison industrial complex )[9]developing, major shifts also occur in the structure of the global economy.
These events are not unrelated. Anti-colonial struggles and victories around the world and an increasingly militant working class at home
made the old ways of extracting profits untenable. At the same time, technological innovation means that production can occur in a dispersed
manner, which makes it easier to control workers and even more difficult for workers themselves to seize the means of production. US-based
manufacturing industries are moving overseas in search of cheap, exploitable labor. Union power was undermined and union membership in the
US fell from nearly 35 percent to 11 percent.[10]Deregulation and privatization were promoted in response to economic growth, and social
services, which at the same time were always unequally distributed and often used as a means of social control, were also stripped away. The
shift to neoliberalism means that job prospects and social safety nets are more precarious.[11] Wealth is spread upward.
In order to consolidate and maintain these advantages for the ruling class, a certain amount of expenditure is required from a large part of
the population at large - and the white middle class in particular - even if their economic interests are not served. The right wing, and
later neoliberal politicians across the political spectrum, began to mobilize " tough on crime " politics . This politics was designed to
arouse racial fears among white people, mobilizing a political base to vote for increased domestic militarization and expansion of the
carcass state combined with an expansion of economic policies that favored the wealthy elite.[12]It also has the dual function of
imprisoning those who are very likely to resist this economic and political restructuring in the first place - namely the poor and working
class people of color.
Poet and anti-prison activist Emily Abendroth commenting on the levity of the prison state wrote:
" It is an extraordinarily magnified element which at this point has had a hand in shaping nearly every dynamic of our social, cultural, and
physical environment with or without our acknowledgment of it ... In the face of this reality, one of the aims of our contemporary poetry
must be, based on need, to voice the catastrophic and debilitating buzz of living in societies that have effectively criminalized the most
basic features of livelihood and the requirements for existence (our youth, our old age, our poverty, our need for housing or medical care,
a sense of our hunger) and instead give them back to us as dangerous behavior and / or unsustainable and irresistible demands . "[13]
If we can't tackle this landscape yet, we can at least illuminate its existence and call its unsustainability a question. The carceral
consequences of unmet needs are looming for those who lack resources, and the examples of these consequences sometimes feel endless and
insurmountable.
Even relative to people of most races and classes, the saturation of prisons, police, and surveillance disrupts many aspects of life, from
the media to the streets. As incarceration rates rose and the war on drugs continued, even the white middle class was unaffected.
Statistically one in every 17 white men will be jailed at some point (compared to one in three black men and one in six Latin
men).[14]Thecriminalization of drug use, mental illness, and sex work all play a role in the system's long reach.
The status of surveillance shapes this landscape. Edward Snowden's insight, asserting that the PRISM program[15] by the National Security
Service[16] has almost unrestricted access to data from Apple, Google, Facebook and others, only confirms what many are already suspicious
of: we are under close surveillance, and transgressions, whether real or imagined, have dire consequences. The combination of austerity and
assertiveness, together with the physical infrastructure and the psychological burden of surveillance status, shapes our response (or lack
of response) to injustice.
What Drives Mass Imprisonment?
If repression and the consolidation of power are a matter ofwhythe carcassal state has developed so dramatically, there is also the question
ofhow . Mass incarceration is built on a range of policies and practices, ranging from systematic divestments in public education to
legislation, punishment and law enforcement tactics. The prime movers of mass incarceration have been thoroughly documented in many other
places,[17] so I will only offend them in a minor way.
The War on Drugs: The War on Drugs was officially launched by Ronald Reagan in 1982 at a time when drug use was really on thedecline , and
has led to the massive imprisonment of people of color and, to a lesser extent, poor white people.[18] The Drug War has been partially
financed, although a series of federal programs rewarding police departments for making drug-related arrests has been initiated. It has also
produced a highly militaristic police force employing high-volume arrest strategies, such as stop-and-frisk ,[19]to harass and frighten the
Black and Latino community in particular. The war on drugs is an obvious attempt to mobilize racial reactions against people of color and to
criminalize the economy for those who survive.
Minimum obligations ( minimum mandatory )[20], " three strikes ," and a sentence long: Explosion minimum obligations andthree strikes
laws[21] means that people get a longer sentence and the judge can not consider any mitigating factors. Since parents who are released after
serving long sentences for serious crimes have a very low recidivism rate (1.3 percent),[22]itis clear that this policy is purely punitive
and has no relation to stated goals of either rehabilitation or public safety. .
The erosion of rights, conditions and programs within prisons: In recent decades, people in prisons have seen their rights eroded at the
judicial level and have also experienced reduced access to programming, educational opportunities, and mental and physical health services.
Why Fight Prison?
If we are interested in creating a radical movement that could fall apart, and a generative process that we can understand as revolution,
challenging the prison system is a good starting point. Prison is a sign of the capitalist state's desire to consolidate wealth and power.
They provide a way for the state to continue to function effectively and are a phase on the line of slavery, expropriation and genocide. To
abolish capitalism, patriarchy and white supremacy, we must work to end mass imprisonment. To get to the roots of mass imprisonment, we must
adopt a broader system that produces the logic for holding millions of people in captivity.
Prison is a specific response to moments of instability and crisis in the capitalist system. The destabilization and imprisonment caused by
the prison industrial complex allowed the state to perpetuate unpopular economic reforms that would have otherwise been unlikely to
withstand a strong resistance movement. Activist and scholar Ruth Wilson Gilmore describes how the prison industrial complex helped save the
country from an economic and social crisis: "Prison expansion is a geographic solution to socio-economic problems, politically governed by a
state that is in a process of radical restructuring."[23]He went on to say that "the modus operandi for solving the crisis has been coercive
control, relentless identification and elimination of violence by both foreign and domestic enemies." The "enemy" in this context is anyone
who has the investment in overthrowing this system of domination.
Prisons are not alone in being the weaponry of the state to respond to and face such crises. But unlike military "interventions" that apply
globally, prisons are an inward, domestic focus on domestic solutions to domestic "problems". And the comprehensiveness of this response
dramatically reduces the capacity for local resistance to this kind of violence and militarism, both inside and outside the US. Whether we
overcome it or not, prison is where we will end up if we succeed in advancing the real challenge to state power. Such challenges inevitably
elicit a repressive response from the state, and the targeting and imprisonment of activists is the most likely outcome.
Prison is an example of a system of power at its most concrete, brutal and legible. They sit at the crossroads of so many oppressive power
systems: white supremacy, class exploitation, patriarchy, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and the criminalization of poverty, of those who
are different, of those who survive. Racial disparity(to use a very inadequate term) in the legal system is well documented, with Blacks
incarcerated at a rate almost six times higher than whites.[24]The incarceration rate for women is on the rise, and women in prison are
facing special hardships - such as being forced to give birth in handcuffs - that are often left out of narratives about imprisonment.[25]
Queer and trans people are incarcerated at a higher rate than heterosexuals, and are more likely to be abused in prison and held in isolated
cells.[26] People struggling with mental health problems were transferred to the prison system instead of being directed to access care.
According to the National Association for Mental Health (NAMH), between 44 percent and 64 percent of prisoners have a documented mental
health diagnosis.[27] And most of the people in prison are poor.
It is clear that the prison system targets people who are already marginalized, and especially people who live at the crossroads of various
forms of oppression. So if the prison is an example of "bad intersectionality," a place where marginalized people are channeled together,
then we have our resistance to the prison system an opportunity to build a movement that embraces strong and positive intersectionality.
According to activist and author Dean Spade, who writes extensively about trans people and the criminal justice system, "... Finding out the
specific arrangements that cause certain communities to face certain types of violence at the hands of the police and in detention, can
enable us to develop solidarity around sharing different shared experiences with these forces and building effective resistance that can get
to the root of the problem this. "[28]This kind of solidarity thrives on our differences, and builds our strength, and responds to the rigid
policing and categorization of prison systems with a refusal to be defined by a system that tries to hold us back. Battling the prison
industrial complex can become one site where we build new forms of alliance (and build upon old ones) to meet the broader challenge to the
forces that create and benefit from oppressive systems.
Lay down the Prison Industrial Complex
Building up a movement strong enough to bring down this system will not happen overnight. The US state is very strong, and movements
especially on the radical Left, very weak. One approach that has gained some traction in recent years is the "decarceration - decarceration
strategy. " Decarseration includes efforts to cut policies and practices that build the criminal law system. Attempts to roll back minimum
obligations, rewrite penalties, decriminalize drug use and reform parole practices all fall into this category of decarceration. At the best
of times, this decarceration strategy brings about real victories that either take people home from prison or keep people out of prison, and
at the same time build bigger and stronger movements that can raise even greater challenges to the prison system itself.
Decarceration as a strategy was used by both perpetrators of prison slavery and those who believed in reform. It can be a challenge, like
someone who believes in a world without prisons, to figure out how to come up with an imprisonment strategy that can lead to that world,
rather than just building a better, gentler state of prison. Here are some possible stepping stones to structural change.
Practical Removal
There is often tension between prison abolition and reform. It makes perfect sense that these tensions exist, since the goal of getting rid
of prisons together has far different implications than, for example, the goal of getting shorter sentences for nonviolent drug offenses.
Reform movements can be so focused on short-term goals that they fail to consider (or ignore) the broader implications of their demands.
Many anti-death penalty organizations are supporters of the life sentence without parole - Life Without Parole(LWOP),[29]based on the idea
that people would only receive a termination of the death penalty if LWOP was the choice of punishment. For the time being, this may seem
pragmatic in the short term, in the long run it reinforces the idea that people in prison cannot be cured of what they mean by "badness,"
and that the harshest punishment is the appropriate response. On the other hand, abolitionists are often criticized for being out of touch,
and too caught up in utopian visions to confront society's actual pressing needs or engage in reforms that, while far from perfect, mean
that some people break out of prison.
While we should not ignore major political differences, these things should not be challenged diametrically, and we can sometimes pursue
reform goals in the short term to build radical movements in the long term. After all, there are only two ways to get people out of prison:
we can destroy them on our own or we can convince, pressure, or force the state to let them out. If we lack the capacity to do the first, we
must do the second. And in fact there are many anti-death penalty activists who do not support LWOP, and many abolitionists are involved in
the messy reform struggle on the ground.
At the same time, we must not fall into the trap of short-term goals (for example, overturning special policies that lead to mass
imprisonments) that lead us to abandon our co-opted struggle. At Decarcerate PA, we talk a lot about using language that is "compatible with
abolishing prison." That is, we may all have different ideas about how to end mass imprisonment and how to get there, but we never want to
use language or messages that reinforce the idea that some people deserve imprisonment. Many prison reform groups make the argument that
basically says that prisons should only be reserved for "violent criminals" and people with low-level offenses should be released. This kind
of language accepts the view that prison plays an important social role, and only criticizes the ways in which it is applied. It denigrates
those convicted of violent crimes and removes the racist structure that dictates who is accused and convicted of those crimes, and how much
time they deserve.
We also have to work to reduce the burden on the prison walls, even though we have not been able to physically destroy them. This means
breaking down prison isolation and "social death," doing the work of eroding the psychological and legal barriers that separate those in
prison from the rest of us and the vulnerable. This means forging real and collaborative relationships and political, social, artistic and
cultural projects with people in prison. This means creating a support network that undermines isolation and alienation. That means spending
a lot of time writing letters. That means developing real relationships with the people behind the walls.
It also takes a moment to think about what erasure means. In some academic and activist circles, prison abolition is spoken of as a given,
as something we hold to as part of collective politics. This is a sign of progress, hard work like that ofCritical Resistance.[30]has done
to popularize the radical idea that a world without prison is not only possible, but necessary. But given the idea's popularity, there is a
risk that our understanding of prison abolition becomes shallow. We have to take seriously what our deletion asks. Because of course there
are many, many injustices, dangers, and acts of violence that must be dealt with, one way or another. This damage occurs interpersonal, and
also systemically.
What is a reasonable response to taking someone's life, transgression of the body? How do we create structures that are able to hold people
accountable and also leave room for transformation and healing? How do we understand the interpersonal dangers in the larger context of the
age of white supremacy and patriarchy that has infused every corner of our history with unimaginable violence and loss? Of course there is
no response that makes sense. There is no reasonable response to the dangers of capitalism, the trauma of slavery, expropriation, and
displacement. Is accountability seen in the face of countless mistakes, at both the individual and the systemic level? These are questions
we have to fight for if we are serious about abolishing prisons.
What we do know is that the current system does not work, or that it is working very effectively in destroying communities, but not at
creating justice and healing. Astronomical levels of violence, from interpersonal partner violence, armed violence, militarist violence and
war, present pressing problems which, by almost every possible analytical lens, show that imprisonment has failed to overcome. Philadelphia
has one of the highest imprisonment rates anywhere in the world, but the last few years, on average, we've had more than one murder a day.
Studies show that incarceration rates do not have a direct correlation with crime rates.[31] Locking people in oppressive and cruel
institutions with limited access to education and care, and limited communication with the outside world further traumatizes people.
Imprisonment perpetuates, not rests, a dangerous cycle. In the face of this reality, it becomes more likely to imagine elimination as a
realistic alternative. But abolition will only become popular on a mass scale when we not only show enough how prisons make us insecure, but
also to demonstrate the real alternative.
State oppression, surveillance, solidarity
Broadly speaking, the prison system has two main functions. Thefirstis actual imprisonment: the physical act of uprooting people from their
communities and locking them in confinement. Thesecondis to create a threat of imprisonment everywhere. The fear of imprisonment can prevent
us from taking the very possible risks needed for systemic change. To grapple with this fear means demanding that the prison system release
its hold on our minds.
Non-cooperation can make repression costs significantly higher for the country. Non-cooperation can mean many things - for example, refusing
to cooperate in police investigations, not giving testimony to a panel of judges, or one of the many ways we can withdraw our consent from
an unfair system. Many political prisoners and dissidents have become role models in this regard, and show us why non-cooperation can be
equally effective in the long term even if it doesn't result in people receiving shorter sentences. The seeds of non-cooperation are in our
community, but collective solidarity does not always emerge organically. It must be cultivated and nurtured by the work we do.
For example, in the early 1970s, when police repression against radical activists increased and many leftists committed militant acts that
carried the burden of long prison terms, some people made the decision to change their identity and go underground. As a result, the
communities around them are often targets of increased FBI surveillance and police harassment. Rather than succumbing to this pressure,
countless people refuse to cooperate with law enforcement and as a result, fugitives could spend years outside the reach of the state.[32]
In 1970, after participating in a bank robbery that resulted in the death of a police officer, radical activist Susan Saxe was added to the
FBI's "Top Ten Most Wanted" list. In the following years, Saxe lived underground, emerged as lesbians and took refuge in lesbian feminist
communities across the country. One night in 1974, lesbians in Philadelphia got word that the FBI was going to the Philly lesbian community
to seek information about Saxe.[33]A major trial related to Saxe has been held, creating commotion and mistrust in the lesbian community. A
group of radical lesbians in Philly wanted to make sure the same thing didn't happen in their community. They quickly put together a flyer
explaining why people shouldn't talk to the FBI even if they were sure there was nothing to hide. The leaflet emphasized that the FBI was
not only gathering information about Saxe, but also trying to map out the entire network of people Saxe might be paired with, and once this
information was gathered, no one knew what law enforcement could do.
The women then scattered throughout the neighborhood, going door to door sharing information. Working all night to ensure they reached as
many people as possible before the arrival of the FBI, they encouraged people to protect their communities and stand in solidarity with Saxe
by not providing any information. Although Saxe was a controversial figure in the lesbian community, and many did not support his actions,
none cooperated with the FBI investigation. Although late-night flyers did not prevent Saxe from eventually being arrested, this proactive
approach to anticipating state oppression did help ignite the Philadelphia lesbian community against the possibility of intensive
reconnaissance and future charges. In fact, the resistance to the FBI goes beyond Philly,
This action helps cultivate a sense of solidarity that can overcome fear of non-cooperative consequences. Solidarity in the face of
oppression (and in the context of internal ideological strife) is of utmost importance in contemporary moments. Even though surveillance
cameras track our movements and the NSA reads our emails, law enforcement still needs actual qualitative information to do its job
effectively. Now more than ever police departments and intelligence agencies around the country and military cooperatives around the world
rely on network mapping, community policing, and door-to-door gathering of information to prevent a "rebel" movement from taking root.[34]
And sometimes state repression backfires. Sometimes we can use the times when the country is bringing us down or our allies to build
something bigger than what we had before. An example is the story of Angela Davis, a life-long revolutionary activist and scholar who was
arrested in 1970 for her involvement in the campaign to free George Jackson and her role as a prominent Black radical intellectual. He is
accused of murder, kidnapping, and criminal conspiracy. The state's blatant racist persecution of Davis touched courage and galvanized
people to join the movement to free him. Within a year of his arrest there were 200 committees to release Angela Davis in the United States
and sixty-seven in other countries around the world. He was eventually cleared of all charges. Today, Davis is a leading voice in the
movement to wipe out prisons.[35]
Many people were politicized, radicalized and brought into the movement during the international campaign to free Angela Davis. Likewise,
many were implicated because of international efforts to free Mumia Abu Jamal[36] or opened their eyes by the Attica rebellion.[37] State
oppression is never positive, but when it does, we can respond in a way that exposes the deep injustices and contradictions within the
country and strengthens our movement's ability to resist. Repression shines on the role of the US government, and as that role becomes more
clearly seen, it is possible for us to build that awareness.
At these times, the scale culminates in oppression and imprisonment that engenders resistance rather than involvement, despite fear of the
consequences. How do we imitate the conditions in which such fear can be overcome? Some of the answers are simple, although none are easy.
We build strong and supportive communities, both inside and outside of prison. We cultivate a spirit of non-cooperation with the state,
withholding vital information, refusing to collaborate with the government in all the creative, bold, big and small ways we can think of. We
can look to models of resistance in prison for inspiration. We fight against ideas and practices that uphold the prison system and the
forces that humiliate man in his hands.
What Can We Learn From Political Prisoners
" If we use a 'no lie ' approach toorganization, then we are taking the time to build the foundationfor amovement that is destined to bring
about the victory wesaywe will fight for. So there is no need to hold a separate program to educate the publicabout theexistence of
political prisoners. Not. Because while ki tawork to organize strikes rentalhousesand clicking ambilalihabandoned building -to create
adequate housing in communities ki tathrough sweat equity ki ta - ki ta will talk about how Abdul Majid and others organize tenant
associations such as the Ocean Hill-Brownsville Tenants Association in Brooklyn. While ki taorganize around issues of quality education that
teaches the history and the real role ki tain this society, ki tawill talk about Herman Bell and Albert Nuh Washington and their work with
schools liberation. While weorganize food co-ops and other survival programs, wewill talk about Geronimo Pratt, Sundiata Acoli, Robert Seth
Hayes, and all the other political prisoners and prisoners of war who work in the free health clinics andcenters. child care - and who go to
prison as a result of their active participation in organizing efforts around issues that directly affectBlackand oppressed communities . "-
Saffiya Bukhari[38]
Political prisoners are not only part of the history of our movement, they are part of our existence. The actions, words and thoughts of our
political prisoners can help us in revolutionary politics even in reactionary times, because fighting for the freedom of political prisoners
is also an opportunity to talk about actions and ideas that are more radical or militant than most social movements. that is in the US
today. Showing strong support for political prisoners is an important part of creating a movement that does not cooperate with the state,
because people who end up facing oppression and politically motivated criminal prosecution know that the movement will rest on their
shoulders, not only initially but for the duration of prison terms their potential.
There are nearly 100 political prisoners serving sentences in US prisons, many from the Black Liberation Struggle. Here in Pennsylvania,
Russell Maroon Shoatz[39] served forty-two years, mostly in solitary confinement, for his participation in the Black Panther movement. And
Mumia Abu Jamal, perhaps one of the most famous political prisoners in the world, was recently released from the death penalty but remains
in prison despite ample evidence that he is innocent and there is much global movement for his release. Across the country there are
political prisoners from other liberation struggles, such as Oscar Lopez Rivera, who has been jailed since 1981 for participating in the
Puerto Rican Independence Movement;[40]American Indian Movement leader Leonard Peltier, who has been imprisoned since 1976 based on evidence
produced by the FBI;[41] David Gilbert, a white anti-imperialist who served a sentence of seventy-five years for supporting the Black
Liberation Army;[42] Marius Mason, spent twenty-two years fighting for environmental justice;[43] Chelsea Manning, served thirty-five years
for forwarding classified military documents about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.[44] And there are many others.
As the movement against mass imprisonment develops, the issue of political prisoners can sometimes be pushed aside as being too specific or
too radical. And on the other hand, movements to support political prisoners have sometimes excluded political prisoners at the expense of
talk of mass imprisonment as a whole.
Movements to support political prisoners and movements working to end mass imprisonment have everything to gain by working together. The
support of political prisoners is essential to create a context in which militant resistance is possible. Political prisoners are often
people who take great risks to advance the work of the movement. While we may disagree with every tactic or strategic decision they make, we
stand on the shoulders of the movements that came before and owe it to the people who made those movements to honor their legacy. In our
efforts to create large-scale social change in the US, we know we have a very long way to go, and we are challenging this system at great
risk to ourselves and our communities. Fostering a movement suited to this task means creating a context in which people feel they can stand
up to oppression. When people take risks, it is important that they can do so knowing they have support, regardless of the consequences.
Supporting political prisoners can help us learn about and from the history of movements that come before us. In the words of former
political prisoner Ashanti Alston, " When you connect with political prisoners, you say that you respect the dreamers of the past, whose
dreams you have now, and you respect the future, because you said we didn't. can move with real integrity unless we work for their freedom.
"[45]
Mobilizing political prisoners can also be an important part of bringing urgent issues and radical ideas to the forefront, even when the
movement is far from achieving broader goals. The Puerto Rican independence movement to free their political prisoners is a good example. In
1999, eleven former FALN members ( Fuerzas Armadas de Liberación Nacional, or the National Liberation Armed Forces) were released from
prison after spending nearly twenty years behind bars. FALN is an underground organization fighting for Puerto Rico's independence. They
claim responsibility for more than a hundred armed actions in the US targeting symbols of the US military, police and corporate power. By
the early 1980s, many of them had been arrested and charged with "treasonous conspiracy" to overthrow the US government. During their
trials, the majority of defendants took the position of Prisoners of War, refusing to recognize US government authority or participate in
their own defense. They received sentences ranging from thirty-five years to life. However, in his final days at the office, President Bill
Clinton changed their line.[46]
Their freedom came because the independence movement refused to accept life sentences for their political prisoners, and worked for two
decades to bring prisoners home. They worked in a variety of fields, won support from Nobel laureates and religious and political
leaders,[47] carried out protests and acts of civil disobedience, and built alternative institutions such as clinics and schools that taught
the history of anti-colonial struggle. It was these years of hard work - both by outsiders and non-collaboration of the prisoners themselves
- that guaranteed their release.
The campaign produced (and is still producing, like Oscar Lopez Rivera remaining in prison) several functions. The first is the release of
the prisoners themselves. But the campaign also provided a vehicle for raising issues of oppression and independence that were impossible in
any other way. Puerto Rican political prisoners, imprisoned in the US, became a symbol of colonialism itself and kept the issue of
independence alive even as the broader movement returned by a wave of oppression initiated by counterintelligence operations and by the
changing context created by neoliberalism and globalization.
The political prisoners movement could also benefit from working closely with the movement to end mass imprisonment. While organizations
such as the Jericho Movement, the Anarchist Black Cross (ABC ), the Boricua National Human Rights Network, and many others have done a good
job of maintaining support for political prisoners over the years, major changes in public awareness and will. politics at the national
level is necessary to bring mass political prisoners home. The movement against mass imprisonment is gaining momentum in ways that might
make that shift possible.
Defining a World Without Prison
Prefigurative Politics means, in the words of the Industrial Workers of the World (WWW), "building a new world in the shells of the old,"
embracing the idea that we need not only to overthrow the current system, but need to create practices, projects, and institutions that
allow for a more equitable relationship and distribution of resources. Artist and former political prisoner Elizam Escobar explains:
" We cannot wait for the day when the majority will rule to put forward the structures needed to build a free, just, egalitarian and
classless society. We must build in the ruins and hostility of the current state by creating a transitional alternative now. We must build
socio-economic, political and cultural structures that are controlled by those fighting for change and the communities they serve. These
structures, the 'schools' for dealing with all these issues, will put into practice the idea that only by facing the reality of submission
can we begin to freely create the art of liberation that liberates people from the illusions of the dominant culture . "[48]
At best, prefigurative efforts allow us to model what a post-revolutionary society should look like. Prefiguration can meet the needs people
have today and can also help draw power from the state, thereby undermining its ability to control our lives. Predicting different types of
relationships, different ways of surviving, different points of access to our basic needs can also create resilient communities and increase
our control over our bodies, minds and lives. This kind of self-determination has always been a threat to the state. Prefigurative politics
allow us to imagine what it would feel like to be out of control.
This is why countries have responded to the Black Panthers Breakfast Program and other programs to "survive the revolution" so brutally.
Starting in 1969, the Black Panthers provided free breakfast to thousands of children across the country. FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover went
so far as to say that the Breakfast Program " represents the best and most influential activity happening for the BPP and, as such, has the
potential to be the greatest threat to efforts by the authorities to neutralize the BPP and destroy what is going on ."[49] In September
1969, armed police stormed the Breakfast Program in Oakland. A similar attack took place in Chicago. This crackdown coincided with the
Federal Government launching its own subsidized breakfast program.[50]Thestate needs to suppress radical autonomous activities designed to
meet the needs of society and to incorporate the radical service model into state-controlled institutions. These actions are clear signs
that self-determination and community autonomy undermine state power, and the state will undermine these programs in any way.
Of course, it is a bit difficult to figure out how anyone can describe a world without prison when the prison system becomes so (literally)
concrete and ubiquitous, and often forces us to become involved in it. Three things come to mind about what it means to be involved in
prefigurative anti-prison politics. Thefirstis to create structures and values in our movement that combat the forces that oppress others.
Thesecondis to build transformative forms of justice that address the root causes of violence and harm in our communities. And thethird
onesome of which are at the intersection of the two, leaving room in our minds, hearts, and movements for transformative possibilities we
cannot yet imagine.
Intersectionality and Horizontalism
Prison is an institution that thrives on categorization and division, on violence and threats of violence, as a means of social control. The
prison system is a tool of oppression and aggregator. It is a tool of oppression because prisons play an important role in "managing"
potentially rebellious people by detaining large numbers of people and locking them up. But they are also aggregators of oppression, both in
the sense that the experience and collateral consequences of imprisonment further marginalize people, and because the prison itself becomes
a special location where the oppressed are criminalized and united.
At the same time, these constraints can make prison a source of creativity and ingenuity. Supervision and a lack of access to daily
necessities meant that people in prisons found new ways to make art, study, make food, to help one another, and to fight back. This doesn't
mean that the prison is doing anything good, it's just that there is something to learn from the creativity that comes with everyday
survival and resistance. And just as prisons can be places where strong divisions are enforced, they can also be places where people come
together over differences to fight for justice.
For example, during the Pelican Bay prisoners' strike at a California prison in 2012, a group of strike leaders released a treaty ending
racial hostilities in prison. The statement reads, in part:
" If we really want to bring about substantive meaningful change to the [California Department of Correction and Rehabilitation]systemin a
way that benefits all solid individuals, who are never broken by the CDCR's torture tactics intended to force someone to become a state
informant through provisioning [debriefing], that now is the time for us to collectively seize this moment in time, and put an end to more
than 20-30 years of hostility between our racial groups ... we must all cling to our common agreement from this point on and focus on
timing, attention, and our energy at a mutual purpose that benefits us all [ie, prisoners], and in our best interests. We can no longer
allow CDCRs to use each other to their advantage!! For the fact is that collectively, we are an empowered, strong force, who can positively
transform this entire corrupt system into one that truly benefits prisoners, and thus the public as a whole ... "[51]
It is this spirit of unity that we must deliberately nurture in our organization, both inside and outside of prison. This means building a
movement in which the experiences of different people can be recognized and where people's special identities can be respected rather than
put aside.
To win against this viable system of oppression, there must be more of "us," those who recognize the dangers perpetuated by white supremacy,
capitalist patriarchy and who are willing to stand up for it, for "them," that is, those who get it. benefits, or believe they benefit from
the system. Many of us simultaneously benefit from certain privileges while being oppressed by others. The trick is understanding that
although bullying affects people in different ways, we all have something to gain by working together to thwart it. This means creating a
broad understanding of who "we" are. This system depends on division. We must not, and cannot, work for this system (that is, we must not be
divided).
We cannot escape being not so bad, not so gay, not so racial, not so radical, not so bold. And if we try, what's left? Who do we go with?
Nothing satisfies the demands of white supremacist, capitalist patriarchy. In the words of Audre Lorde, " machines will try to grind us to
dust, regardless of whether we make a sound or not. We can sit in our corners, forever mute while sisters and ourselves are wasted, while
our children are distorted and destroyed, while our earth is poisoned, we can sit in safe and lonely corners as bottles, and we remain not
afraid... "[52]
When we seek to eliminate the means by which strong interests divide, we can also build movements that do not replicate state structures.
One way of doing this is by building organizations / campaigns / collectives that counter the hierarchical model of a prison state with a
shared horizontal structure of power. There are several advantages to this. One is that creating a horizontal force sharing mode makes
movement more difficult to control or co-opt. The pervasive forms of power are replicable and it is not up to individual leaders to propel
them forward. Developing models for collective decision-making can also be an important part of building a more collective, non-punitive
form of justice and healing (non-punitive ).
Non-hierarchical organizations allow for differing and diverse opinions, result in consensus building, and generate multiple opportunities
for participation. Anarchist movements in America and elsewhere have created models for organizations that share power collectively rather
than consolidate it into a handful of leaders. It is no coincidence that anarchists too, who have vocally criticized the prison system over
the past several hundred years, identify prisons as systems designed to curb dissidents and create profits rather than to solve their
problems.[53]Because anarchists and other anti-authoritarians are critical of the state, and because the prison system is an important part
of the consolidation of state power, many anti-authoritarians identify the struggle against the state as key.
Part of building this movement is creating participatory structures that give people the opportunity to participate in decisions that affect
their lives. According to the anarchist author and founder of Black Panther and member of the Black Liberation Army, Ashanti Alston, "
whether you value the capacity of people to think about themselves, to rule themselves, to creatively devise their own best way of making
decisions, to be. accountable, to solve problems, destroy isolation, and the commune in a thousand ways... OR: you don't respect them. You
don't value ALL of us. "[54] The prison system functions by maintaining isolation, and our resistance is to destroy it. Building a fighting
movement, rather than strengthening the hierarchical and oppressive structure of the prison system is also to denigrate the logic that
allows such a system to exist. Creating non-hierarchical structures and participatory forms of decision-making is also part of this process.
Transformative Justice
In the movement against mass imprisonment, the questions that usually arise are, "If we don't have prisons, how do we respond to violence
and attacks on our communities?" This question has many answers, but one that is useful is the idea of transformative justice. According to
Philly Stands Up, a collective that collaborates with people who have committed sexual violence, transformative justice is "the dual process
of securing individual justice while changing the structures of social injustice that perpetuate such abuse."
Developing transformative practices is very challenging, especially in the context of the existing system of punishment. But there are
organizations that are working to change what communities must do to respond to attacks and violence. One organization framed their mission
as follows:
" It is a way of practicing alternative justice that recognizes individual experience and identity and works to actively fight against the
country's criminal injustice system. Transformative Justice recognizes that oppression is the root of all forms of harm, harassment and
assault. Therefore, the practice aims to overcome and deal with oppression at all levels and treat this concept as an integral part of
accountability and healing . "[55]
Unlike the legal system, which focuses on punishment rather than healing for the people involved, transformative justice offers ways to deal
with harm that leave room for something to really change.
" Creative Interventions assume that relationships, families and communities where violence occurs are also locations for long-term change
and transformation. This assumes that those most affected by violence are the most motivated to challenge violence. This assumes that
friends, family, and society know most closely the conditions that lead to violence and the values and forces that can lead to
transformation. "[56]
Instead of "justice" imposed by an outside judge, responses to violence must be developed in the community that has the deepest knowledge
and interest in creating lasting change.
This thinking and work takes place in the prison too. As part of a project with the aim of ending life sentences in Pennsylvania, I have
conducted written and audio interviews with people serving life sentences without parole (LWOP). Many of the people inside who work with us
on this project have been part of the movement against mass imprisonment over the years. One of the men I wrote about, among other forms of
political engagement, led a workshop in prison on restorative justice practices. When I asked him how he would respond to those who argued
that highlighting the voices of people convicted of crimes harmed victims, he replied, "I would say that it could also have the effect of
freeing people who have been victims of prison fear. Because of how prisons dump and isolate, the people who are victims usually live with
the frozen-by-time image (frozen-in-time ) from the people who harmed them. Learning that the people who make those changes can bring a
feeling of security and can reduce worry about someone who keeps hurting. " This demonstrates the great benefit of transformative justice,
which takes something we know intuitively - transformation is possible.
Transformative justice recognizes that real danger, violence, and trauma deserve a meaningful and serious response, but that prisons and
police offer no sustainable solutions. This should be at the heart of abolitionist practice. Whenever we tackle problems of violence and
danger in new ways that do not involve the state (or at least minimize state involvement), we build towards what a world without prisons is
like.
Beyond the Swamp of the Present
" Prisoners are dreamers, and what they dream of most is 'freedom.' "
- Elizam Escobar[57]
The ubiquitous repressive prison and state systems make it difficult to imagine existence without them. Part of our job is to make that
imagination possible, even though we don't yet fully know the set of possibilities that will open up by reversing the current system. To
quote Dean Spade:
" What does it mean to embrace, not avoid, the impossibilities of our way of life and our political vision? What does it mean to want a
future that we cannot even imagine but that is told never existed? We see abolition of policing, prisons, confinement and detention not
strictly as narrow answers to the 'prison' and abuses that occur within prisons, but also as challenges to the rules of poverty, violence,
racism, alienation and disconnection we face. every day. ... Abolition is a practice of transformation here and now and for eternity . "[58]
This is echoed in the work of the queer theorist José Esteban Muñoz, who wrote:
" Queerness is a structuring and educating mode of passion that allows us to see and feel what lies beyond the ruins of the present. The
here and now is a detention house. We must strive, in the face of the total here and now of reality, to think and feel that moment and
there. Some would say that all we have is pleasure in the moment, but we shouldn't be satisfied with that minimal transportation; we must
dream and create new and better pleasures, another way of being in the world, and ultimately a new world. "[59]
It is no coincidence that Muñoz uses the language "prison" to describe the present. In fact, rigid adherence to what is possible in the
present will always lead us back to stagnant reforms that support rather than challenge the status quo. For deletion, much more is needed.
I have tried to give some ideas of what mass imprisonment is and what can be done about it. Mass imprisonment, and the existence of prisons
as a response to social problems, cannot be avoided or destroyed. It is a series of policies designed to curb radical movements and suppress
marginalized communities. To combat this we need to build a movement that encourages multiplicity - multiple strategies, multiple
identities, multiple modes of participation - and respects and champions the political and political prisoners who have built these
movements from within the walls when we struggle to build them from the outside. We must stand strong in the face of oppression and know
that we are stronger when we stand up for one another and recognize the stakes we all have in this struggle. And while we remain rooted in
the practical concerns of our urgent daily struggles, we must remember the visions, dreams, and imagine what the new world can develop from
our work.
To conclude the final line I enclose the poem of the Martín Espada to which Eduardo referred to in his words to the PA demonstrators on the
Decarcerate:
" If the abolition of slave slavery
started as a vision of the hand without the handcuffs,
then this is the year;
if the closure of extermination camps
began as the imagination of a country
without razors or crematoriums,
then this is the year;
if every rebellion begins with the idea
that the conquerors on horses are
not many leggy gods, that they too drown
if they fall in the river,
then this is the year.
So may every mouth that is insulted,
teeth like an unclean stone that has been stained, be
filled with the angels of bread. "
Postscript
For two years I worked as a legal assistant on a prisoner rights law project. During that time I read thousands of letters from prisoners
across the state detailing what were often brutal and grievous offenses against them. People being attacked by guards, deliberately or
indiscriminately put in dangerous situations, denying their lives to medical treatment, being stripped and put in solitary confinement as
punishment, confined to days or even weeks in restraint, refusing treatment and mental health care, adequate food, and access to clean
water. I read a graphic description of sexual assault, and on one occasion a letter described in vivid detail when guards deliberately put
an old man in a cell with someone who had serious mental health problems and who had repeated that he would kill anyone who cheated on him.
The writer of the letter, along with everyone else in the cell block, had to watch - locked in their own cell - as one person killed another.
These stories, which I experienced only as the furthest witness of other people's trauma, returned to me at odd intervals, as waves of anger
and despair. But there are other words that stay with me too.
I opened a letter one day and received a letter from someone I met. The letter was to inform me that he had been transferred from one prison
to another. Describing the new prison, he wrote, "The mountains are so close that it feels like I can almost touch them. "I don't know if
that line has any special meaning to him, or if it's just a wind-up comment, a conversation alongside his business letter to a legal service
organization. But something about that phrase remained with me.
The mountains were so close they almost touched them.
So much in such short phrases. Mountains, mountain peaks, symbols of eternal struggle.
In his final public address, Martin Luther King Jr. say:
" We are having a few difficult days ahead. But that doesn't matter to me now. Because I've been to the top of the mountain. And I don't
mind. Like anyone, I want to live a long life. Long life has its place. But I'm not worried about that now. I just want to do God's will.
And He let me go up to the mountain. And I've seen. And I have seen the promised land. I may not be able to go there with you. But I want
you to know tonight, that we, as people, will come to the promised land. "
We are familiar with the mountain metaphor. And sometimes the mountain isn't a metaphor at all, like the Chiapas mountains, where the
Zapatistas spent ten years building up their movements and troops before they emerged in 1994 to protest NAFTA's signing and reclaim land
that had been stolen from them. In that sense, mountains are shelters and fortresses, hotly contested, but still standing so close that it
felt likeI could almost touch them .
But what is more than just a mountain is an "almost." There are so many possibilities and geographies and failures and hopes that make it
"almost" possible.
But in that respect almost too is a promise of what could have happened, how things could have been different. For "very nearly" really is,
by definition, not that far. For the vastness of the distance, the historical gap that separates one reality from the next, there is also
another set of possibilities, another set of futures, which are almost here. Because if you can imagine, it can be made. For the prison is
neither more nor more than the sum of their parts, of cutable razor wire, of peelable concrete, of repairable steel. Because prison walls
are not the beginning and end of anyone's reality, let alone their dreams. Because imprisonment cannot exist without the threat of
widespread freedom. And because we're building, slowly, unevenly, imperfectly,
That's why political prisoners are so inspiring, and hunger strikers, people who have taken risks, put their bodies in lines, marched, sang,
spent hours in hours in long gatherings. These actions say we have confidence that eventually we will be somewhere different from where we
started. The belief that we can change ourselves and each other, that we can fight against all odds to destroy this destructive system and
build something new. The faith that we can manifest in our actions, our relationships, ourselves, the seeds of something else, something we
can almost imagine.
Layne Mullett lives in Philadelphia and has been involved in organizing the gentrification, austerity, and prison industrial complexes and
for the freedom of political prisoners. He is a founding member of Decarcerate PA, a group working to end mass imprisonment in Pennsylvania.
This essay was made possible in part by an IAS writing grant and IAS editorial assistance, and appears in the current issue of "Perspectives
on Anarchist Theory," No. 28, on the topic of Justice. This paper was later translated into Indonesian by Petrus Simbolonfor the Indonesian
Black Cross.
_________________________________
[1] Martin Espada, "Imagine the Angels of Bread," Matin Espada, accessed July 14,
2014,http://www.martinespada.net/Imagine_the_Angels_of_Br.html .
[2] Dan Berger,The Struggle Within(Oakland: PM Press / Kersplebedeb, 2014).
[3] Ward Churchill and Jim Vander Wall,The COINTELPRO Papers(Cambridge, MA: South End Press: 2002).
[4] David Gilbert,Love and Struggle(Oakland: PM Press, 2012).
[5] Brian Glick, "War at Home: Covert action against US activists and what we can do about it," (South End Press Pamphlet Series, 1999).
[6] Free Angela Davis and All Political Prisoners , directed by Shola Lynch (Lionsgate 2012), DVD.
[7] Nancy Kurshan, "The Battle Against Control Unit Prisons,"Counterpunch,July 5, 2013, accessed September 11,
2013,http://www.counterpunch.org/2013/07/05/the-battle-against-control- unit-prisons / .
[8] Carceralmeans anything related to prison. Next I translated it as a carceral society - Peter Simbolon.
[9] The prison industrial complex emerged in the 1950s due to the rapid expansion of the US inmate population to the political influence of
private prison companies and businesses that supplied goods and services to government prison institutions for profit - Peter Simbolon.
[10] Drew Desliver, "American unions membership declines as public support fluctuates," Pew Research Center, February 20, 2014, accessed May
20, 2014,http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2014/02/20/ for-american-unions-membership-trails-far-behind-public-support / .
[11] David Harvey,A Brief History of Neoliberalism(New York: Oxford University Press, 2005).
[12] Michelle Alexander,The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness(New York: The New Press, 2010).
[13] Emily Abendroth, Exclosures (Ahsahta Press: 2014).
[14] "Racial Disparity," The Sentencing Project, accessed July 5, 2014,http://www.sentencingproject.org/template/page.cfm?id=122 .
[15] PRISM is the code name for the program by which the United States National Security Service (NSA) collects internet communications from
various US internet companies - Peter Simbolon.
[16] Glenn Greenwald, "NSA Prism program taps in to user data of Apple, Google and others," The Guardian, 6 June 2013, accessed 29 August 2014.
[17] For example, Marc Mauer'sRace to Incarcerateand Michelle Alexander'sThe New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.
[18] Michelle Alexander,The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness(New York: The New Press, 2010).
[19] "Stop and Frisk" is the practice of policing when police stop, ask questions and search pedestrians if they have " reasonable suspicion
" that allows someone to commit a crime. A study shows that this practice usually targets Black and Latino communities.
[20] Punishments that oblige offenders to serve a predetermined sentence for a specific crime, an offense that is usually serious and
violent. Judges are bound by law; these sentences are produced through the legislature, and not the judicial system - Peter Simbolon.
[21]The"Three Strikes Laws," or the habitual law of suspects, imposes additional and harsh penalties on people who have committed multiple
crimes.
[22] "Threat to public safety or abuse of human rights," Release Aging People in Prison, accessed June 13,
2014,http://nationinside.org/campaign/release-of-aging-people-in-prison/facts/ .
[23] Ruth Wilson Gilmore, "Globalization and US prison growth: from military Keynesianism to post-Keynesian militarism," Race and Class 40
(1999).
[24] "Interactive Map," The Sentencing Project, accessed July 5, 2014,http://www.sentencingproject.org/map/map.cfm.
[25] Victoria Law,Resistance Behind Bars: the Struggles of Incarcerated Women(Oakland: PM Press, 2009).
[26] Catherine Hanssens, Aisha C. Moodie-Mills, Andrea J. Ritchie, Dean Spade, and Urvashi Vaid, "A Roadmap for Change: Federal Policy
Recommendations for Addressing the Criminalization of LGBT People and People Living with HIV," (New York: Center for Gender & Sexuality Law
at Columbia Law School, 2014).
[27] Inmate Mental Health,National Association of Mental Health, accessed September 1, 2014,http://www.nimh.nih.gov/statistics/1DOJ.shtml .
[28] Eric Stanley,Captive Genders: Trans Embodiment and the Prison Industrial Complex,(Oakland: AK Press, 2011).
[29]
[30] Critical Resistance is a prison abolition organization founded in 1997. http://criticalresistance.org/.
[31] "Fewer Prisoners, Less Crime: a Tale of Three States," the Sentencing Project, accessed August 2,
2014,http://sentencingproject.org/doc/publications/inc_Fewer_Prisoners_Less_Crime.pdf .
[32] Dan Berger, The Hidden 1970s: Histories of Radicalism (New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 2010).
[33] Sherrie Cohen, interview by Layne Mullett and Sarah Small, February 6, 2012, at Hamifgash Restaurant, Philadelphia, PA.
[34] Kristian Williams, "The Other Side of the COIN: Counterinsurgency and Community Policing," inLife During Wartime: Resisting
Counterinsurgency , edited: Kristian Williams et al. (Oakland: AK Press, 2013).
[35] Free Angela Davis and All Political Prisoners , directed by Shola Lynch (2012; Lionsgate) DVD.
[36] "Who is Mumia Abu Jamal,"Free Mumia,accessed June 19, 2014,http://www.freemumia.com .
[37] In 1971, two weeks after George Jackson's murder, prisoners at the Attica State Prison in New York rose and took over the prison. They
produced a list of demands for basic human rights, respect and self-determination. Instead of complying with these demands, Governor Nelson
Rockefeller ordered the police to suppress the revolt. The police killed 43 people and tortured countless prisoners.
[38] Saffiya Bukhari,The War Before: The True Life Story of Becoming a Black Panther, Keeping the Faith in Prison, and Fighting for Those
Left Behind,(New York: Feminist Press, 2010).
[39] Russell Maroon Shoatz,Maroon the Implacable: The Collected Writings of Russell Maroon Shoatz(Oakland: PM Press, 2013).
[40] Oscar Lopez Rivera,Between Torture and Resistance(Oakland: PM Press, 2013).
[41] "Case of Leonard Peltier,"Free Leonard , accessed July 19, 2014,http://www.freeleonard.org/case/ .
[42] David Gilbert,Love and Struggle: My Life in SDS, the Weather Underground, and Beyond(Oakland: PM Press, 2012).
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Movement, Movements, and Contemporary Radical Currents in the United States , ed. Team Colors Collective (Oakland: AK Press, 2010).
[46] Jan Susler, "More Than 25 Years: Puerto Rican Political Prisoners" inLet Freedom Ring: A Collection of Documents from the Movements to
Free US Political Prisoners , edited: Matt Meyer (Oakland: PM Press and Kersplebedeb, 2008).
[47] Interfaith Prisoners of Conscience Project, "Proclaim Release: A Call to Conscience and Action for the Release of Puerto Rican
Political Prisoners" inLet Freedom Ring: A Collection of Documents from the Movements to Free US Political Prisoners , ed. Matt Meyer
(Oakland: PM Press and Kersplebedeb, 2008).
[48] Elizam Escobar, "Art of Liberation: a Vision of Freedom," inImprisoned Intellectuals: America's Political Prisoners Write on Life,
Liberation, and Rebellion , edited: Joy James (Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield, 2003).
[49] Marc Mascarenhas-Swan, "Honoring the 44th Anniversary of the Black Panther's Free Breakfast Program,"Organizing Upgrade , January 18, 2013.
[50] The federal pilot program for the subsidized breakfast was launched in 1966, but it did not actually gain official status or permanent
funding until 1975.
[51] "Agreement to End Hostilities Starts TODAY!!,"Prisoner Hunger Strike Solidarity , 10 October
2010,http://prisonerhungerstrikesolidarity.wordpress.com/2012/10/10/agreement-to-end-hostilities-starts-today / .
[52] Audre Lorde,Sister Outsider(Berkeley: Crossing Press, 2007).
[53] Emma Goldman,Anarchism and Other Essays(New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1969).
[54] Ashanti Alston, "Anarchist Panther," accessed May 1, 2014,http://www.anarchistpanther.net .
[55] "Philly Stands Up," accessed May 1, 2014,http://phillystandsup.com .
[56] "Creative Interventions," accessed May 1, 2014,http://www.creative-interventions.org .
[57] Elizam Escobar, "The Heuristic Power of Art," inThe Subversive Imagination: The Artist, Society and Social Responsibility,edited by
Carol Becker (New York: Routledge, 1994).
[58] Morgan Bassichis, Alexander Lee, Dean Spade, "Building an Abolitionist Trans and Queer Movement with Everything We've Got," inCaptive
Genders: Trans Embodiment and the Prison Industrial Complex , editors Nat Smith & Eric A. Stanley (Oakland: AK Press, 2011).
[59] José Esteban Muñoz,Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity(New York: NYU Press, 2009).
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