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<a href="http://www.counterpunch.org/kerr09042007.html" eudora="autourl">
http://www.counterpunch.org/kerr09042007.html<br><br>
</a></font><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4><b>September 4,
2007<br><br>
</font><h1><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=5><b>The Continuing
Saga of Steve Champion and Anthony Ross in the Wake of Tookie Williams'
Execution<br><br>
<br>
</i></font><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=5 color="#990000">
Buried Alive on San Quentin's
Death</b></font></h1><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=5>By TOM
KERR<br><br>
</font><font face="Verdana" size=6 color="#990000">W</font>
<font face="Verdana" size=2>hen death row inmates are subjected to
degrading and grossly unjust treatment, the rest of us ought to pay close
attention, whether we subscribe to Mathew:40 or not: "Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it
unto me." Prisons officials are public officials, acting on our
behalf, presumably for our benefit. If through our inattention or neglect
we license prison officials to mistreat prisoners-some of the most
helpless, abject souls among us-we license public officials to treat the
public at large with contempt.<br><br>
In its broad outline, Steve and Anthony's story, which I first began to
tell in January 2006 (see "Why are They Rounding Up Tookie Williams'
Friends?"), is straightforward. A few days prior to William's
execution on December 13, 2005, they along with several other inmates
were rounded up and detained in the Adjustment Center, San Quentin death
row's "hole," on charges they had conspired to retaliate
against prison officials for their friend's execution. For the past
twenty months, they have been held there in stark cells on property
control and with no phone privileges. From day one, both men have
vehemently denied involvement in any kind of conspiracy. Indeed, judging
by their many and varied writings, both have long-since transcended their
violent gang pasts, explicitly repudiating, as did their friend Tookie
Williams, the sorts of values, beliefs, and behaviors that fuel gangs and
destroy communities. Both men, however, are award-winning prison writers
and outspoken critics of San Quentin and the prison industrial complex in
general. And therein lies the rub.<br><br>
As I reprise their never-ending story, over a year and a half in now, the
question of credibility looms large. Why should I, much less anyone else,
believe two condemned men, two people who have nothing to lose by lying,
and, perhaps, something to gain in the form of winning the sympathies of
supporters and drawing the attention of prison critics.<br><br>
But the same kind of logic can be used to establish the credibility of
our informants. Unlike many of us living "free," they have
nothing to lose-jobs or social standing-by telling the bald truth. In a
recent letter to me, Anthony Ross notes: "We have nothing to hide,
which is more than I can say about them."<br><br>
As with any institution, the more corrupt a prison, the greater its stake
in polishing its image, preserving it legitimacy, and squelching stories
that subvert the official one it tells the public about itself. And
near-absolute power, of the kind prison officials hold over death row
inmates, can too easily, through all manner of manipulation, cripple the
people who would tell subversive stories. If you think corporate whistler
blowers take risks, imagine blowing the whistle from inside a death row
prison cell.<br><br>
In becoming well-read, self-reflective thinkers and accomplished writers
while in the hell of death row, these two men, like Tookie Williams
himself, have symbolically defeated the system designed to dehumanize
and, ultimately, to destroy them. Through their essays, stories, and
poems, they have vehemently insisted on their humanity and steadfastly
maintained their dignity. Such self-redemptive effort undermines the
familiar and necessary assumption that men sentenced to death have, by
their own conduct, forfeited their humanity-have become, as is often
suggested, "animals." And we can kill animals, so the magical
thinking goes, without becoming animals ourselves. If we can kill them
with impunity, all the more reason we can mistreat them in the meantime.
Who will care? Who will defend them? People for the Ethical Treatment of
Animals? <br><br>
The human voices of Ross and Champion put the whole inhumane, barbaric
American killing apparatus on trial, and such a reversal cannot
stand.<br><br>
The darkly ironic truth revealed by Steve and Anthony's interminable
ordeal is that San Quentin officials themselves are the ones
<i>conspiring</i> to <i>retaliate</i>-against the late Tookie Williams
and his friends! For what? For liberating themselves and for expressing
their humanity in writing-while still in confinement on America's morally
bankrupt death row.<br><br>
Of course, the ins and outs of the tale are complicated, involving false
charges, time-devouring grievance procedures, published articles, various
letters and documents, and lots of bone crushing time in the hole for
Anthony and Steve. The opaque complexity of disciplinary procedures and
appeals in prison is itself very often strategic, yet another way to
punish inmates and confound transparency and accountability. Who on the
outside can possibly stay abreast of internal prison proceedings? Who can
possibly bear witness? <br><br>
On occasion, however, moments of clarity present themselves, and Anthony
Ross has seized upon one of these as the occasion for the following
article, which I quote below in its entirety. I received this article and
a copy of the document Ross refers to (Form # CDC-128-B (4-74)) on August
28, 2007. Although I cannot reproduce the California Department of
Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) document here, I can attest to its
prima facie authenticity and official form and format.<br><br>
</font>
<dl>
<dd>Writing Under Fire: Resisting the Regime<br>
<dd>by Anthony Ross<br><br>
<dd>"Neither hegemony nor power can determine truth."<br><br>
<dd>-Prof. Molefi Kete Asante<br><br>
<dd>In May 2007, my brother Steve Champion and I co-authored an articled
entitled "The Paradigm of Abuse: San Quentin's Adjustment Center
Revisited," which was published in The San Francisco Bay View
newspaper. In this article, we mention George Jackson to illustrate the
stark similarities between the hostile environment of the Adjustment
Center (AC) in 1971 and the hostile environment of the AC in 2007. This
comparison was based on factual events and personal experience and is
demonstrative of both eras. Now we have received a CDCR 128 Report that
targets us for investigation into gang activity. According to the report,
the basis for this is our use of the word "comrade" in relation
to George Jackson. According to Agent T. De La Rosa, this constitutes
gang sympathy or association, and anyone who uses the term
"comrade" (a name descriptive of George Jackson) must be, ipso
facto, a gang member.<br><br>
<dd>This notion of a priori culpability, whereby one's very philosophy,
ideas, or character renders them criminal, suggests an insidious and
racist mindset within the CDCR. Yet such flights of myopic thinking are
common features of a system wherein humanity and justice have been
supplanted by degrading abuse and repressive prison policies [see the Bay
View article mentioned above].<br><br>
<dd>I am reminded of the weeks and days leading up to the execution of
our brother Stanley Tookie Williams. San Quentin Spokesman Vernell
Crittenden went on a virulent smear campaign to paint Tookie as an active
gang member, offering no proof and despite the fact that Tookie had been
cleared of any gang association by the former Warden, Jennie S. Woodford.
Then, of course, in his statement justifying his denial of clemency,
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger argued that since Tookie had mentioned
Malcolm X, Assata Shukur, George Jackson, and Geronimo Pratt in his book
on prison life, Life in Prison, he could not have redeemed
himself.<br><br>
<dd>This pattern of criminalizing and vilifying black leaders and
personages is an old one. And some San Quentin officials are taking this
practice a step farther by making the mere mention of a name a gang
offense. This bizarre leap of flawed logic provides them with an
erroneous catalyst for action against us. It sets in motion a malicious
process that can disrupt our mail, personal property, visits, and trust
account-indefinitely!<br><br>
<dd>There is a real and present danger here. This intentional misreading
of language makes it possible to write up any prisoner who elects to use
certain appellations in his writings, such as comrade, chairman,
minister, brother, homeboy, etc.<br><br>
<dd>The retaliatory targeting of prison writers has a clear objective: to
intimidate and discourage those voices willing to expose violations of
basic human rights and degrading conditions in prison. If successful,
this strategy becomes an unwritten policy for censorship and will
eventually leave only one version, one interpretation, of life in the
CDCR-that of the CDCR!<br><br>
<dd>It is worth noting that our Bay View article consisted of over 1,300
words, yet only three-"comrade George Jackson"-were plucked
from their context and reinterpreted as something criminal or, worse,
seditious. Agent T. De La Rosa's semantic alchemy defies the criteria for
gang activity as defined in the CDCR rules and regulations, as well as
the standard set forth in the 1994 case Castillo v. Alameida, Jr. [No.
94-2974], which establish specific guidelines for gang identification.
The use of the word "comrade" is not included in either of
these sources.<br><br>
<dd>It is a relatively easy matter to persecute us. There is no real
redress here. The inmate appeal process is controlled by the very people
who violate policy and abuse prisoners. Now, the intent is to silence
truth.<br><br>
<dd>P.S. During a unit search on July 11, 2007, all of my writing paper
was confiscated and all of Steve Champion's reference books were taken.
We were never given a reason for this. We believe it was a blatant
attempt to disrupt the writing projects we are currently working on.
Since December 2005, we have been isolated in the Adjustment Center on
the bogus allegation of conspiracy to assault staff in the wake of
Stanley Tookie Williams' execution. We are in an on-going legal battle to
fight this false charge and regain our dignity and the very modest
"privileges" afforded to death row prisoners. To these ends, we
are seeking legal assistance and/or monetary donations [see contact
information at the end of this article].<br><br>
</dl>When we consider how hard it is to confront the deceptions and lies
of this country's leaders, including Bush, Cheney, Libby, Gonzales and
others, we can only imagine the daunting challenge faced by death row
prisoners confronting deceptions and lies perpetrated by their keepers.
There are no meaningful checks and balances. And with the exception of
some mainstream, highly sensationalized and largely pro-prison, media
depictions of life inside our prison industrial complex, the system, as a
whole and in its parts, remains a closed book-a black hole in a
putatively open society.<br><br>
As their editor and long-time correspondent, I am convinced that Steve
Champion and Anthony Ross, with no help from San Quentin, have in their
twenty-five years on death row made themselves over. They have evolved
from young, admittedly violent gang members into mature, thoughtful men
who have reflected long and hard on their past lives and on their present
circumstances as black men on death row in America. Although they might,
like most of us, defend themselves if attacked, both have become strong
advocates of non-violent remedies to personal and political problems.
They have become writers who can tell the stories of their transformation
and defend themselves against degrading treatment and excessively
punitive prison policies, and for this they have been buried alive on
death row.<br><br>
You can write either man to express your concern or offer support at
these addresses:<br><br>
<dl>
<dd>Anthony Ross, C-58000, San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, CA
94964<br><br>
<dd>Steve Champion, C-58001, San Quentin State Prison, San Quentin, CA
94964<br><br>
</dl>Tom Kerr</b> is Associate Professor of Writing and Rhetoric and
Ithaca College. You can email him at
<a href="mailto:tkerr@ithaca.edu">tkerr@ithaca.edu</a>.<br><br>
<br><br>
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