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<a href="http://www.zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?SectionID=30&ItemID=13921" eudora="autourl">
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<dd><font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=5>The Justice that Jena
Demands<br>
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<dd><font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=2>by Xochitl Bervera; Families and
Friends of Louisiana's Incarcerated Children (FFLIC) ; October 01,
2007</b> <br><br>
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<dd>I want to tell you about Emmanuelle Narcisse. He was a tall,
slim, handsome young man who was killed by a guard at the Bridge City
Correctional Center for Youth – a Louisiana juvenile prison – in
2003. Apparently, he was "fussing" in line, talking back
to a guard. The guard punched him in the face, one blow, and
Emmanuelle went down backwards, slamming his head on the concrete.
He took his last breath there behind the barbed wire of that state run
facility. The guard was suspended with pay during the
investigation. No indictment was ever filed against him.<br><br>
<br>
<dd><a name="11547823064251a5__ftnref1"></a>There is also Tobias
Kingsley,<a href="#11547823064251a5__ftn1#11547823064251a5">[1]
</a></sup>sentenced when he was 15 to two years in juvenile prison for
sneaking into a hotel swimming pool (his first offense). Tobias endured
physical and sexual abuse inside the prison. He said that guards
traded sex with kids for drugs and cigarettes, and sometimes set kids up
to fight one another, making cash bets on the winner. His mama said
he was never the same after he came home. She said the nightmares,
the violence, the paranoia persisted years after the private lawyers
helped him come home early. His battles with addiction and
depression are not yet over.<br><br>
<dd>And there is Shareef Cousin, who was tried as an adult and sent to
death row in the state of Louisiana for a murder that he didn't
commit. Shareef spent from age 16 to age 26 behind bars, the
majority of those years isolated in Angola's Death Row, because an over
zealous prosecutor didn't care that the evidence didn't really add
up. After all, it was only a young Black man's life on the
line.<br><br>
<dd>These are young Black men who have encountered Louisiana's criminal
justice system who I know because their mothers have become proud members
of Families and Friends of Louisiana's Incarcerated Children (FFLIC), the
organization I have worked for over the last 7 years. These stories
are about young men who have experienced incredible injustice, not unlike
the Jena 6, only the national spotlight has never shined on
them.<br><br>
<dd>There are hundreds more. Thousands. Every day in the
state of Louisiana (and in most states in this nation), injustices of
epic proportions are taking place in our criminal and juvenile justice
systems. We, those of us who live here, fight here, and organize
here, know hundreds of families and young people – often our own - who've
endured almost inconceivable levels of violence, abuse, neglect.
And despite efforts to get someone, anyone</i> to care and to act</i>,
these young people most often end up statistics in somebody's dismal
report, or an anecdote in an article just like this. Because people
don't care. Because these young people are not just poor, they are
not just Black, they are criminals</i>.<br><br>
<br>
<dd>Hallelujah, someone noticed!<br><br>
</i></b>
<dd>So, Hallelujah! Almost overnight it seems, the nation is
looking deep into the heart of Louisiana's criminal justice system and
seeing what we've been shouting about all these years! The racism,
the blatant and unaccountable abuse of power masquerading as
"justice." The slavery-like, Jim Crow-like, Bush-era
prejudice and exploitation that has been the bedrock of white supremacy
here and all over the Deep South for decades. Young people of color
and mothers across the country are rising up saying "We wont take it
anymore! We demand justice!" The myth that the goal of
the criminal justice system is protecting public safety is slowly
unraveling as youth in Philadelphia, DC, Oakland and mothers
in Chicago, Jackson, and Birmingham make that most important of
realizations, "that could have been me</i>," "that could
have been my </i>child."<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>Many are asking, "why now?" Why, of all the horrific
incidents we've seen and exposed, is this the one that set off this fire
of hope? Our young people have been shot and killed by police in
every city in this nation, left to die of dehydration in local jails,
railroaded by white juries and judges into serving 20, 30, 40 years in
the prison plantations we call Angola, Parchment, and Sing
Sing...<br><br>
<dd>Let me tell you what my heart tells me. What really matters is
not why, but what</i> we plan to do with this moment now that it has
arrived. What will the leaders, the youth, the elders of our
movement do now?<br><br>
<br>
<dd>Demanding Justice for Us All<br><br>
</i></b>
<dd>Of course we must relentlessly and persistently demand justice for
the Jena 6. But we must demand justice, not only in the form of
dropping the charges against these specific </i>youth, but in the
systematic and thorough rooting out of racism from all wings of the
criminal justice systems across the United States of America.<br><br>
<dd>Justice in Jena requires justice for all the others as well – for all
those who have suffered (and some who have died) silently behind bars and
for their families who have fought without benefit of TV cameras and news
reporters. It requires understanding that we will not, we can
not</i> achieve racial justice in this country if we do not fight against
the criminal justice system, not just in individual instances, but in its
institutionalized, systemic form. If we do not understand this –
and understand it deeply </i>– then this newly discovered energy, this
tidal wave of outrage, this beautiful, intergenerational protesting isn't
going to mean a damn thing past next week's news. <br><br>
<dd>Justice in Jena requires all of us across the country to rise up
against the racism and exploitation of the criminal justice system in all
the places where we've come to see it and grown to accept it whether
that's allowing for an abysmal public defender office in your county or
turning away when you see a police officer trample the rights, and
perhaps the body, of a fellow citizen. We must cast off once and
for all, the fundamental lie that the system has anything</i> to do with
criminals or justice or public safety. We must not back down, as so
many movements have, when we are "crime-baited," accused of
defending rapists and murderers, accused of defending crime itself.
We must not make excuses for some parts of the system while protesting
others. Similar to opposing the war, the whole war, and not simply
certain battles or certain strategies, we must oppose the system in its
entirety. We must dismiss, once and for all, the urge to discuss
what's wrong</i> with the system – what's broken</i> and needs to be
fixed.<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>There is nothing broken in this system. In fact, usually (when
it is not disrupted by 50,000 protestors), it is quite efficient at doing
precisely what it was created to do. In the Deep South, the
criminal justice system as we know it was built after the abolition of
slavery, as part of the terror machine which destroyed the briefly
federally protected Reconstruction era. Without nuance or subtlety,
the system was created by wealthy, land owning whites to keep Blacks
"in line," on the plantation, and working for next to
nothing. Thanks to the Thirteenth Amendment which abolished slavery
"except as a punishment for crime," laws and codes were
invented that criminalized the very existence of Black people, police
were hired to "enforce" those laws, and courts were mandated to
send these newly created "criminals" to jail, or better yet, to
be leased out to the very plantation owners they had been
"freed" from just months before. The "justice"
that was once meted out by slave owners who were "masters" of
their property, was now taken care of by the law. The word
"slave" was replaced by the word "criminal."<br><br>
<br>
<dd>"Its not about race, it's about crime"<br><br>
</i></b>
<dd>And yet, even with this history known, the stigma of criminality has
remained so strong that our own movements have turned their backs on this
issue over the years. Too many of our movements today want to
dismiss, minimize, or overlook the necessity for a racial justice
movement to prioritize organizing around criminal justice. Too
often, our members meet others – even those who should be allies – who
hold the entrenched belief that if a child is in prison, he must be
"bad," he must have done something</i> wrong. Even in
progressive circles, organizations prefer to focus on the school children
who need an education, the families who want affordable housing, the
victims of street violence and drive-by shootings. These people are
portrayed as "innocent" and deserving while currently and
formerly incarcerated people are "guilty" - of something.
<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>Of course, it's a false dichotomy. Everyone knows that the same
communities, the same people,</i> who are most impacted by violence, the
lack of health care, education, and housing are those most brutally
impacted by policing and prisons. But the idea of the dichotomy has
been essential to maintaining the stigma which justifies the
system. And it's been a handy and effective tool to explain away a
great deal of racial injustice in this country.<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>In Jena, when asked about the incident which led to the arrests of
the Jena 6, a white librarian confidently explained to the NPR reporter,
"It's not about race</i>. It's about crime."</i>
Crime -- the ultimate proxy for race, the ultimate justification for
racism.<br><br>
<br>
<dd>What the future holds<br><br>
</i></b>
<dd>I believe that this moment in history can be a pivotal one if we make
it so. Up to 50,000 people marched in the streets of Jena yesterday
– the majority of them Black, many were from the South. All were
outraged by the blatant racism evidenced by the criminal justice
system. This could be the beginning of the end for a system that
should have been dismantled years ago.<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>But what we fight for and how we fight will make all the
difference. The most obvious principle is that we cannot fight for
the system to expand – in any way. Asking for the white kids who
hung the nooses to be charged, calling for Hate Crime Legislation --
these "solutions" just strengthen the system and give the same
players – the DA, the judge, the jury – more powers and more
validation. If we understand that the system, at its core, is not
designed to promote justice, then why would we ask for anything that
expands its reach or powers? At the very least, we must only call
for things which shrink </i>the system – closing prisons, freeing
prisoners, cutting correction budgets, eliminating the death penalty and
Life Without Parole, prohibiting juvenile transfers, and implementing
sentencing reform.<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd> </b>We can also call for accountability from our elected
officials. DAs and judges who perpetuate injustice, state
representatives who are in bed with the corrections department and
private prison companies – these people should not be allowed to hold
office. They should be ousted whether by recall, regular elections,
or public pressure to step down.<br><br>
<dd>But we can – and should - also call for the redirection of funds into
a real public safety system. We must make it clear that the issue
of public safety is fundamentally distinct from the issue of the criminal
justice system. The only thing they have in common is
rhetoric. Developing a public safety system which is prevention
orientated, based on principles of restorative or transformative justice,
prioritizes making the victim and community whole, and creatively
resolving conflict is a powerful and noble goal and our communities
should know more about these models and fight for them. A public
safety system includes community based programs, quality education and
the elimination of racism.<br><br>
<dd>The families of the Jena 6 are ahead of the crowd in the list of
demands they have made public: 1. Drop (or fairly reduce) All
Charges; 2. Reinstate School Credits; 3. No Juvenile Records; 4.
Investigate "Noose" Incident of September 1, 2006; 5. Remove
Reed Walters from the District Attorney's Office; 6.Conduct Undoing
Racism Workshops for Staff, Faculty, Administrators, Students, Parents
and Community Members.<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>These are good demands for Jena. What will you demand in your
hometown or city?<br><br>
<dd> <br><br>
<dd>FFLIC is a membership based organization consisting primarily of
mothers and grandmothers. These mothers and grandmothers have seen
all sides of the farce known as the criminal justice system. They
have been victims of sexual and physical violence who have either kept
quiet or endured the humiliation and neglect of the DA's office and the
so-called victim's advocates. They have been forced to call the
police on their children when mental illness or addiction has made them
violent and no other services exist. They have visited their
children in prison and seen boot marks on their faces. They have
walked home alone through dark streets in poor neighborhoods where there
are no programs, no services, no activities to keep young men busy and
hopeful. They have seen their children beat by police officers, by
prison guards, sometimes even by judges and district attorneys. <br><br>
<dd>Standing on both sides of the system, these mothers will tell you
that justice exists nowhere in the vicinity. It may sound radical,
but its time we start listening to those who have been through it all and
tear down the disgrace that is the U.S. criminal justice system.<br><br>
<dd>--------------------------------------------------<br><br>
<dd>Note:<br><br>
</i></b>
<dd><a name="11547823064251a5__ftn1"></a>
<a href="http://www.zmag.org/content/?view=page&name=htmlcompose&ver=1chdyj2lqwlxk#11547823064251a5__ftnref1">
[1]</a></sup> <a name="11547823064251a5__ftn1"></a>Name has been changed
for purposes of confidentiality<br><br>
</i>
<dd>--------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>
<dd>Xochitl Bervera is co-director of Families and Friends of Louisiana's
Incarcerated Children
(<a href="http://www.fflic.org">www.fflic.org</a>). She can be
reached at
<a href="mailto:xochitl@fflic.org">xochitl@fflic.org</a>.<br><br>
<dd>--------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>
</i>
<dd>Resources:<br><br>
</b>
<dd>New York Collective of Radical Educators (NYCoRE) and Network of
Teacher Activist Groups (TAG) have developed: Revealing Racist Roots: The
3 R's for Teaching About the Jena 6,</b> a curriculum guide for teachers
to address what's happening in Jena. Download the resource
guide in PDF Version or Word Version for free at:
<a href="http://www.nycore.org/">www.nycore.org</a> OR
<a href="http://www.t4sj.org/">www.t4sj.org</a>.<br><br>
<dd>Donate to support the legal defense fund: <br>
</b>
<dd>Jena 6 Defense Committee <br>
<dd>PO BOX 2798<br>
<dd>Jena, LA 71342<br><br>
<dd>Sign the petitions at:</b>
<a href="http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/">
http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/ </a><br><br>
<dd>For more information or to offer concrete support, email:<br>
</b>
<dd>jena6defense(at)gmail.com<a href="http://writewhatilike.typepad.com/">
</a><br><br>
<dd>The Jena Six and the School To Prison Pipeline:</b>
<a href="http://naacpldf.org/content.aspx?article=1208">
http://naacpldf.org/content.aspx?article=1208 </a><br><br>
<br><br>
<br>
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