Day 261: it’s all connected, we’re all connected

On this 261st Day of Genocide in Gaza, I admit to being stunned that the carnage has not only not ceased, but has become increasingly depraved. I won’t go into details as the words and images are easily found due to IOF soldiers proudly documenting their depravity/lack of humanity on social media sites. To counteract the sadism, I decided to offer a poem by a Palestinian, and so went in search of something that resonated.

I landed on a poem by Mahmoud Darwish (1941-2008) who is “feted as Palestine’s national poet for his words expressing the longing of Palestinians deprived of their homeland, which was taken by Zionist militias to make way for present-day Israel. His poetry gave voice to the pain of Palestinians living as refugees and those under Israeli occupation for nearly a century.” And because this morning I began reading the Pulitzer Prize-winning Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy by Heather Ann Thompson, the Darwish poem I chose is “The Prison Cell.” Because just as the United States incarcerates more people than any country on earth (currently about 2 million people), Israel incarcerates thousands upon thousands of Palestinians and holds them without filing charges. It’s all connected. We’re all connected. And just as the incarcerated in the U.S. are treated as less-than and subjected to brutal conditions, so are the Palestinians. It doesn’t matter who we are or where we live on this planet: It’s all connected. We’re all connected.

In this spirit, I offer:

The Prison Cell
by Mahmoud Darwish
(Translated by Ben Bennani)

It is possible . . .
It is possible at least sometimes . . .
It is possible especially now
To ride a horse
Inside a prison cell
And run away . . .

It is possible for prison walls
To disappear,
For the cell to become a distant land
Without frontiers:

What did you do with the walls?
I gave them back to the rocks.
And what did you do with the ceiling?
I turned it into a saddle.
And your chain?
I turned it into a pencil.

The prison guard got angry.
He put an end to the dialogue.
He said he didn’t care for poetry,
And bolted the door of my cell.

He came back to see me
In the morning.
He shouted at me:

Where did all this water come from?
I brought it from the Nile.
And the trees?
From the orchards of Damascus.
And the music?
From my heartbeat.

The prison guard got mad.
He put an end to my dialogue.
He said he didn’t like my poetry,
And bolted the door of my cell.

But he returned in the evening:

Where did this moon come from?
From the nights of Baghdad.
And the wine?
From the vineyards of Algiers.
And this freedom?
From the chain you tied me with last night.

The prison guard grew so sad . . .
He begged me to give him back
His freedom.

—-

One final connection between Palestinians, the men in Attica in 1971, and me: this poster I unearthed in my basement yesterday, one I’d bought years ago (and possibly hung in my California classroom):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s all connected. We’re all connected.

Climate Movement Mondays: deadly heat & the incarcerated

Welcome back to Movement Mondays in which I typically highlight a frontline community enduring the worst effects of climate change and then offer an action you can take on their behalf. However, today’s post is mainly intended to raise awareness about a deadly issue. Before going further, I need to say that I am a PIC abolitionist. Per criticalresistance.org: prison industrial complex (PIC) abolition is “a political vision with the goal of eliminating imprisonment, policing, and surveillance and creating lasting alternatives to punishment and imprisonment.”

Image by Fifaliana Joy from Pixabay

Okay, one of the aspects of climate change is how it affects people and planet in ways we might not have considered. I include myself in that statement. Because even though I’m active in the climate community and have done tons of reading on abolition and social justice, I hadn’t truly made the connection between climate and incarceration. But then an incarcerated friend wrote to me, mentioning how he was worried not only about the unhealthy air due to the Canada wildfires but also about the coming oppressive heat in the prison that doesn’t have air conditioning. My friend is not being whiny. Climate change poses a unique threat to the incarcerated and the insanely high temperatures around the country are literally killing people in prisons. (By the way, climate-induced flooding is another deadly threat to the incarcerated.)

The New Republic reported that in the last several weeks, at least nine people died heat-related deaths in Texas prisons (although the Texas Department of Criminal Justice has not acknowledged the deaths as such). “But only last month, Texas senators killed a bill that would have established a prison temperature standard of 65 to 85 degrees, as well as funding of $545 million for the first two parts of a four-phase air-conditioning installation plan. Despite a $32.7 billion budget surplus this year, the legislature allocated no funds specifically for prison air conditioning.” 

Then there’s Louisiana. Taproot Earth created a May 2023 policy report on climate and incarceration, and in that introduction states: “The rate of incarceration in Louisiana is higher than anywhere else in the world. Black people are 33% of the state’s population, but make up 52% of people in jail and 67% of people in prison.” (Note: The state relies on pretrial incarceration which means that people who can’t afford bail are incarcerated until trial.) The introduction also says this: “Louisiana is also particularly vulnerable to the climate crisis, due to its geographic location on the Gulf South and its production of the fossil fuels that drive the climate crisis and poison nearby communities. Louisiana is at high risk for sea level rise, coastal loss and flooding, increased heat waves, and storms that are increasing in frequency and intensity.”

So what can be done? The report makes many recommendations (including that Biden must Declare a Climate Emergency) and from page 19 of the report: “As the climate crisis worsens disasters and increases their frequency, these carceral facilities and the beds within them will become only more cruel and dangerous, leading to premature death of incarcerated people. To release people from the disaster within the disaster, all environmentally vulnerable carceral facilities must be closed–and when a disaster strikes them, they must not be rebuilt or reopened. This requires a state-wide study of carceral infrastructure and its vulnerability, especially in the context of climate-exacerbated disasters.” No more new prisons!

The good news is that people are organizing around this issue and there’s an increased urgency to that work as climate-induced extreme weather continues to hit every part of the globe. Texas Prisons Community Advocates (TPCA) is rallying at the state capitol on July 18th and they will gratefully accept a donation.

If you’ve read this far, thank you thank you thank you. Please keep your eyes and ears open to what’s happening in your own states. Maybe there’s a group organizing around climate and incarceration or maybe proposed legislation that would help keep the incarcerated alive. Or maybe you’ve seen a story or two in the news about prisons. No matter what it is, I’d love to converse with you about it because climate and abolition are two issues close to my heart.

Solidarity! ✊🏽

Memorial Day and Incarcerated Veterans

U.S. flags are on display in honor of Memorial Day. We saw many flags while traveling across Colorado for our camping trip last week and lots of our neighbors are flying flags right now. But do those flag-flyers know that many former military personnel have been or are currently incarcerated?

Image by Barbara Rosner from Pixabay

I wasn’t thinking in those terms until I saw this tweet from a formerly incarcerated person:

Then I did a little research and learned that almost one-third of U.S. veteran survey respondents (31.1%) had been arrested and booked, a rate significantly higher than among civilians (18.0%).

Commentary from the ACLU rightly states: If, as a nation, we want to honor their service, we should invest in providing community-based treatment to help them heal after their military service, instead of deepening their wounds by incarcerating them.

This issue hits close to home because I have PTSD but didn’t recognize that’s what I was suffering until I finally found the right therapy for me. Somatic Experiencing literally gave me back my life and I absolutely believe veterans would also benefit from this therapy and it breaks my heart to think about the added layers of trauma inflicted on people through incarceration. Another reason this issue hits me hard? I have an incarcerated friend who is a veteran. They put their life on the line for this country and have spent nearly a decade in prison for a non-violent crime. Locking people in cages is never the answer, especially not for trauma-induced mental health issues. Care and support is what’s needed.

I wish you a happy Memorial Day and also invite you to remember the incarcerated veterans as all those red, white, and blue flags ripple in the breeze.