Prison, Its Harm and The Kings Bay Plowshares 7

I heard yesterday about the release to home confinement of Martha Hennessy, one of Dorothy Day's granddaughters, Catholic Worker, member of the Kings Bay Plowshares 7. Also, within the past 24 hours I received a note from Mark Colville who is currently serving time in prison for his part as another Catholic Worker in the Kings Bay Plowshares 7 action. No story or communication from a prisoner is pleasant in my own experience. But when I hear about people of conscience who are doing time for the things they believe in, I'm torn apart on the inside where my own conscience resides. 

If you don't know about the actions of the Kings Bay Plowshares 7 you can read about them here. My short version is that they are a group of seven people who by their action tried to get the world's attention on the destructiveness and the absolute stupidity of nuclear weapons. 

But right now, as a result of hearing about Martha's release, I'm writing about prison and the harm it does to everyone, the prisoner, the guard, the families of both, and to society as a whole. I write as a former prisoner myself, a prisoner of conscience during the Vietnam war. Fifty Five years after my incarceration I'm still affected by certain triggers, a long term effect of imprisonment. Most likely PTSD, although never formally diagnosed. No one reacts the same to prison experiences. My reactions are perhaps unique to me but I doubt it. I've known and spoken to a lot of people who were formally incarcerated or held by the government for some reason other then criminal or political activity, perhaps due to mental health or an intellectual disability. All I know is that there are many who's feelings, reactions and emotions are similar to mine.

Triggers can be things like a movie, a tv show, an article or a book. Perhaps a conversation, a visit or a letter. Any of these things can begin a process of remembering the impact of losing control of your personal freedom, when it happened, how it happened and the impact it may have had.

The system of incarceration is in its simplest terms, putting a person in a setting where they have little to no control over their personal freedom - how they move, who they see, what they eat. It is the denial of privacy in every form. It includes the control of both physical and emotional freedom and choices. It is as simple as controlling personal space and as complex as controlling emotional stability. How people react to all of this is different based on many things. Most people fight extremely hard to keep some sense of their own freedom and dignity. Sometimes the battles and resistance are more difficult for certain individuals. But the stress factors that are caused by control by others test everyone.

The judicial system and the prison system have some fantasy that they are in fact working together for the good of society as well as the person imprisoned. There is nothing further from the truth. Judges many times believe they are sending people off to be rehabilitated. They are either naive or intellectually challenged. Many judges have never been in a holding cell let alone a prison. These two systems, court and prison, are totally independent of each other and the consequences are harmful. There are people who languish in jails for years who have not been tried, who cannot afford bail.

Few people realize that for every prisoner there is at least one other person impacted by each incarceration. In most cases it's more than one person. Spouses and children are the most obvious people impacted by imprisonment but there are certainly other family members and social relationships. Spouses and children are impacted by all the rules that impact the prisoner relative to letter writing and visits. No physical contact, no tolerance of broken rules by guards or administrators. Spouses and children are impacted by the emotional reactions and outbursts by the person they love that are caused by incarceration. They are the recipients of the reactions in letters or in visiting rooms. After release, spouses and children have to deal with the readjustment of the ex-con to a changed environment as well as their own adjustment to the individual's return, perhaps as a substantially changed person. Now multiply that by the tens of thousands of people incarcerated across our country and the world.

I know these things are true from my own experiences. My wife and son were impacted in all of these ways and more during and after my being in prison. Their experiences were different from mine but no less difficult or important. We were all changed in some way while perhaps thinking and hoping we were the same. Our experiences hurt us along with our relationship in the long term.

Sexual and physical abuse in prison is overstated to a degree but it does exist and every prisoner is on guard relative to the potential threat. Fights occur and factions are part of the social network and culture of prisons. Some prisoners isolate themselves or are isolated by those in charge. Isolation can be a blessing or a curse that does real emotional harm over time.

I had a friend I made in prison who had been involved in drug sales. He had received a 15 year sentence. He was addicted to heroin when he entered prison and basically went cold turkey when he was arrested. After ten years in prison he was being released with time for good behavior, etc. The day and night before his release I watched him go through serious shaking along with beads of sweat pouring from his face and head. It was as if he was reliving the withdrawal symptoms from his addiction all over again. He was released with the expectation that a minimum wage job would solve all of his and society's problems when in reality he could make thousands of dollars in a few days selling drugs. Guess which way that went.

I have tried to communicate with all of the imprisoned Kings Bay Plowshares 7 with spotty success. Letters have been returned because I didn't follow the rules by using lined versus blank white paper or because I put a return label on an envelope rather than writing the address. Post Cards may have gotten delivered but they're also easier for a guard to throw in the trash. 

These are some thoughts and stories about prison. I think about them especially when I see good people trying to do the right thing and then be carried off to a prison setting. I hate prisons. I believe they allow people to abuse power and try to destroy other human beings. The need for power and control of others has existed through the ages. The basic concept of prisons hasn't changed for centuries. 

Yes, I'm glad for Martha, Carmen, Liz and Fr. Steve and I hope Patrick, Clare and Mark are released soon. They've provided witness but they've suffered and have seen the suffering around them. Just remember, there are thousands of other witnesses on both sides of prison walls and fences.

Bezos Flight and Fancy

I was drawn to the launch of Jeff Bezos' Blue Origin like millions of others. My guess is that it has something to do with the excitement of watching the human quest to do more or to be first. But my interest was quickly turned to scorn, pity and some real disgust as I realized the depth of the inequality and arrogance of rich, privileged, white men represented by Bezos. He hasn't been very visible in my world until yesterday. I had never seen an interview or any in depth coverage of him as an individual. My sense was that he was a bit reclusive other than sending some x-rated selfies to a new woman friend.

But all that changed yesterday. He exposed himself very clearly as the new age colonialist of our solar system and perhaps all of space. It began with the visual of a grown man attempting to be a down home boy with his old cowboy hat versus a helmet for a space flight. I should have known at that point that we were all in for a not so pleasant ride.

Commentators began talking about the public, private partnership that had led to this day. How a private company (not just one by the way) was creating all of this new technology for the government (actually for the highest bidder). Of course all of this came with some government support, contracts, etc. Wait, hold on! Jeff Bezos, the wealthiest man in the world, is getting government support and contracts? Let that sink in for awhile. Another great partnership that your government has gotten you into. The wealthiest man in the world, the man who pays little to no taxes is getting taxpayer support for his projects into space. Hmm..

Up, up and away, but not for long. A return to earth and a capsule surrounded by more wealthy people wearing more cowboy hats in adulation of their friend, benefactor, shaking bottles of champagne in the heat of Texas at 8:30 in the morning. None of this seems right at the moment.

When Bezos speaks, he speaks about space colonization. He describes the world he envisions for everyone else, where all industry is moved to other planets to save this one. Earth will just be for living. Industry and work will be elsewhere. He compares this vision to his creation and development of Amazon. Everything starts small. Today is just the beginning. He sees nothing wrong with the fact that no one else has had anything to say about what he's proposing. He's thought it out, he's figured it out for all of us and he promises there are absolutely no other planets like this one in our entire solar system, so there.

As any good patriarch does, he thanks all of his Amazon customers and employees, who he acknowledges actually paid for his few minutes in space. It all ends with him handing out $200 Million in Courage and Civility awards that he must hope, help cover and forgive a multitude of sins and omissions.

All of this is in the best and truest of the capitalist traditions and it would be unpatriotic to think anything ill of it. Yet at the end of the day, the poor continue to be poor, the homeless continue to be homeless, workers continue to be exploited for profit by a few, and the endless wars continue. Our planet is dying and suffers from the abuse we all continue to put her through. Mother Earth, wars, hunger and poverty aren't just part of a game played by wealthy, privileged, white men. They represent billions of people who need community, who need help and support. Jeff Bezos, no matter what he thinks, doesn't have all the answers.

Policing in America

Policing is always hard and difficult. It is also many times not good for anyone, including the police officer. Most say it's a necessary evil that we need to accept, put up with for the greater good. It's at the core of a lot of other things in society and government. Things like courts and prisons are the direct result of policing. From there, agencies and systems have developed. Things like probation departments and various support and prevention agencies all have their roots in policing and arrests. So it has certainly become complicated over the yers, decades and centuries. Yet we consistently give people guns, handcuffs and other tools to arrest and detain more people.

In the evolution of policing in America however, biases and discrimination have taken over, along with the abuse of power by many who are hired to perform these duties of control and "peace" keeping. Why is it that people of color, poor people, people who are different are targeted by police agencies across the country? Who provides this direction and these policies in cities, towns, villages and municipalities? We all share some blame in this and we all share some responsibility - everyone who wants safety in their lives, everyone who lets public officials know what is acceptable and of course those who fear people who don't look or act like them. Principles of nonviolence, non confrontation and deescalation have to be a major part of discussions and reforms.

But the policing problem is much bigger than these things alone. In many cases, police authorities are running the show based on their own interpretation of what they believe is good for everyone else. In addition, people who are hired for policing positions bring plenty of biases with them. It may be from experiences in the military, from their upbringing or from colleagues. Wherever it comes from, it is deep-seated and yes, attitudes about power and control are built into the equation of policing.

With all of that being said, what we're seeing and what communities of color have been seeing for years relative to policing and the use of force is totally out of balance. People are being abused, shot and are dying for the most minor offenses. Why are men and women of color being pulled over for minor infractions that lead to death? Why are people even pulled over for some of these infractions? How important are traffic violations? These are serious questions that need to be answered. Police departments and municipalities need to figure out why their training on deescalation seems to be failing. What is the mind set of police looking for confrontation, chasing, pursuing and terminating lives over misdemeanors? Why, when tragedies happen do police agencies set themselves up in tit for tat battles with the communities they are supposed to be serving?

Although it's tempting, we can't turn away from videos of people being killed or abused by the police. Of course they're disturbing but so are the experiences people are living or dying through. We can't turn away from trials and demonstrations. People of color and other minorities have been living with absolute fear of the reality of what happens to them when confronted by the police. But most of all, police agencies and police officers have to stop the battle with members of their communities. They have to stop the emphasis on force and retaliation. They have to stop presenting themselves as military entities with wartime equipment that can be used to battle their communities.  

Followup & Return Trips To Selma

As you read below, please remember there are now 253 bills in 43 states to restrict voting access. Voter suppression is alive and well.....And this weekend the 56th reenactment of the march will take place virtually. Find out more at www.selmajubilee.com

Return Trips

In February of 2003 I got a phone call from a journalist friend. I'll always be grateful to her for that call. She told me that during a regularly scheduled conference call with the press, Congressman Amo Houghton who represented the Southern Tier region of NYS, had mentioned a trip he was taking with Congressman John Lewis to Selma, Alabama in March for the reenactment of the bridge crossing that had happened there many years before. Gwen mentioned to the Congressman that she knew someone in the district who had participated in the original march. Within days of that call I was contacted by Congressman Houghton's office and invited to participate in the pilgrimage back to Selma.

It turns out that the trip was much more then a trip to Selma. John Lewis and Amo Houghton had been working together for a number of years with an organization called the Faith and Politics Institute. At that time the organization was led by Doug Tanner. Lewis and Houghton were trying to work on the principle of civility in congress. They were true brothers in that effort. They were from completely different backgrounds but they had found common ground and were committed to working together. The pilgrimage had been going on for a number of years and continues to this day. During the pilgrimage, Lewis and other leaders of the civil rights movement take a large group of Senators and Congressman, along with guests to the historical landmarks of the civil rights movement - Montgomery, Birmingham and finally on Sunday to Selma and the crossing of the Edmond Pettus Bridge. But it is different than it was in 1965. On Sunday and throughout their trip they are escorted by black and white troopers and sheriffs. Throughout the trip, John Lewis told stories in only the way he can, about the experiences of black America in the 60's and before.

But let me tell you about my experience returning on that March in 2003. I drove to Washington, DC and met Congressman Houghton at the Capitol on the morning we were to leave. I got on the bus that we were taking from the Capitol to the airport and sat down with elected officials of the United States Congress along with people like Jack Kemp, former Congressman and football great from Buffalo. A police escort with sirens blaring took us through Washington and to the airport. I was mesmerized and a bit confused, out of sorts, out of body perhaps. Things didn't seem right. This was all very legal. I don't think anyone, including myself realized what a shock all of this was going to be to me. I was literally dumbfounded.

We visited all of the important places that honor the civil rights movement and its leaders and foot soldiers. Here are a few pictures of that trip. The first is of Congressman John Lewis and myself. John Lewis is a personal hero of mine. He was beaten to the ground in 1965 at the front of the march along with Rev. Hosea Williams. The second is a picture of the Mayor of Selma, James Perkins, myself and Congressman Amo Houghton at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma.

As Amo Houghton and I walked toward the bridge in Selma, we drifted toward the back of the crowd away from the media crunch that always seems to be following the folks up front. We chatted as we walked and eventually were joined by a man to our left. It turned out to be James Perkins, Jr. the first black Mayor elected in Selma in 2000. We told our stories. Perkins was 10 when the original march took place. He could have been one of those youngsters who inspired me so many years ago with their song and spirit - fearless young leaders. He could have been my co-conspirator and partner running through the woods to the courthouse through the public housing pictured below across from Brown Chapel. As we neared the bridge, he put his hand on my shoulder, took my hand and said, "You know the only reason I'm the Mayor of this city is because of you and people like you." We hugged. It was an emotional moment for both of us.

Fast forward to 2010. That was the year I decided I was going to go back to Selma again but on my own. I was going to get in my car and make my own pilgrimage and I did. Only it wasn't on my own. I invited my older brother and oldest son, both living in New Jersey to join me. Again, these trips are emotional for me and this time we were able to see more of Selma and the poverty that is a part of the landscape today. But we also met good people both black and white who understand their history better than us. We were a bit lost one day and my son asked two bike patrol officers for some directions and information. We ended up seeing these officers over and over and suddenly came to the realization that the city was pretty small and directions pretty simple. At one of these encounters one of the young officers came over and engaged me in some conversation. He asked if I was one of the original marchers? I answered in the affirmative. He was white and his partner was black, both in their late twenties or early thirties. What he said next was another one of those emotional surprises. He apologized to me for the actions of law enforcement officers in 1965 and he meant it. He was ashamed of their actions and the way people were treated. I thanked him for his kind words.

I went back for the 50th celebration and reenactment in Selma in 2015. I shared that time with my youngest son Brian and my wife Jeannette. The tradition and experience should go on. Make the trip.

Celebrating Selma and John Lewis

Next weekend, March 5-7, the march over the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Al., will be celebrated virtually and for the first time John Lewis will be missing from the front row of marchers. I have compiled some writing on my experiences in Selma and share it here. But let's all be clear. As history from 56 years ago and the fight for voting rights is celebrated, over two hundred laws suppressing the right to vote are being proposed and passed in State Legislatures across the country. How far we haven't come since those bloody days in Selma.

SELMA, ALABAMA 1965 - By Jim Wilson 2/2021

 "Selma,  Alabama became a shining moment in the conscience of man. If the worst in American life lurked in its dark streets, the best of American instincts arose passionately from across the nation to overcome it. There never was a moment in American history more honorable and more inspiring than the pilgrimage of clergymen and laymen of every race and faith pouring into Selma to face danger at the side of its embattled Negroes." Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., March 25, 1965 - Montgomery, Alabama

In March of 1965, I was a college student at St. Anselm's College in Manchester, NH, famous for Presidential Debates even in those years. But how I got there is worth some time and explanation. I had come to St. Anselm's from Maryknoll Seminary in Glen Ellyn, Ill. I had left the seminary the previous year, wasn't sure what I should be doing but chose St. Anselm's partly because my brother was in the Benedictine Monastery associated with the College. Maryknoll was and is a religious missionary order known for its association with social justice issues. Part of why I left the seminary was because it just didn't seem that I could get involved in those social issues quickly enough. It would be eight years before being ordained to the priesthood and before being sent on a mission to some developing nation. In Chicago, farmworkers and others were protesting and demonstrating against Campbell Soup Co.. Priests and seminarians from Maryknoll got involved but it wasn't enough for me. Of course my grades weren't that hot either. So I left in the middle of my Sophomore year, took the summer off and hit St Anselm's running the following fall.

I very quickly found like minded students and professors at St. Anselm's. People concerned about poverty, peace and justice. There was a small, tight group that became involved in the Young Christian Students movement. The organization was involved in various social issues that were facing our world at the time. Lots of things were going on - the war in Vietnam, the draft, the civil rights movement, and much more. Our group got together, discussed issues and got involved in demonstrations and other political action in Boston, Mass.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Council were asked to join other groups that were already working on voter rights demonstrations and issues In Selma, Alabama in late 1964. An injunction had been put in place making it illegal to even talk to two or more people at one time about civil rights or voter registration issues in that city. Dr. King spoke to a mass meeting at Brown Chapel in January of 1965, directly defying the injunction. On February 18, 1965, an Alabama State Trooper shot a young man named Jimmie Lee Jackson as he tried to protect his mother and grandfather in a cafe where they fled while participating in a night time civil rights demonstration in Marion, Alabama. Jackson died 8 days later. On Sunday March 7th, in response to the shooting, about 600 people marched east out of Selma.  Governor George Wallace denounced the march and declared he would take whatever measures necessary to prevent it. The march was led by John Lewis and the Rev. Hosea Williams. They made it only as far as the other side of the Edmund Pettus Bridge, a mere six blocks from Brown Chapel. There, State Troopers and Dallas County Sheriff's and deputized citizens, some mounted on horseback, waited for the marchers. Then in the presence of the news media, the lawmen attacked the peaceful demonstrators with billy clubs, tear gas and whips. As people watched horrified on the TV news, the event quickly became known as 'Bloody Sunday'.

My friends and I, along with millions of other people watched those newscasts taking place on TV. We were shocked and outraged at what we saw and as enthusiastic and probably a bit naive young people, we determined that something had to be done to right this wrong. We began to make arrangements to fly to Selma as soon as possible. We were going to go as a group of 10 or 12 students. At the same time, Martin Luther King, Jr. put out a call for religious leaders and people from the north to head to Selma. He was planning another march on that Tuesday, March, 9th. He sought a court order to prohibit the police from interfering with the march. Instead of a court order, the federal judge issued a restraining order preventing the march until he could review documents and issue an opinion. So, as Dr. King was planning his second march, students from St. Anselm's were planning their trip and arrival in Selma.

Plane schedules and tickets were gotten; people began packing small bags and getting ready for the trip to the airport. As I was cleaning up in the dorm bathroom and showers, my group of friends all came in with long faces. I asked what was wrong and one of them spoke up and said they couldn't go. I said "what do you mean you can't go?" One of the fellows volunteered that they had all called their parents and were told they couldn't go to such a dangerous place. I laughed and asked "why did you call your parents? Of course they'd say no." Right or wrong I had no intention of calling my parents. I had my tickets and planned on making the trip. The rest of the group, along with one of our Benedictine professors drove me later that night to Boston for the long trip to Alabama. I would arrive on Tuesday, alone and scared to death.

So there I was on a small plane to Alabama. Basically I was AWOL from college and later learned I was to be expelled for leaving campus without permission. That changed once it was recognized that St. Anselm's was one of the first colleges represented in Selma.

Dr. King was facing his own political issues as he and the leadership of the Southern Christian Leadership Council along with the Student NonViolent Coordinating Committee were planning the second march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. It was decided that they would walk across the bridge, kneel and pray and then turn around and return to Brown Chapel. This action wouldn't violate the injunction that had been placed on the march by a sympathetic judge, who in the end, King believed would support the march to Montgomery. But King didn't tell the 2500 marchers who had traveled to Selma about his plans and many became angry and frustrated at what became known as the turnaround march. People had come great distances to be there and to show their support. Dr. King asked people to stay. He explained that another march would take place once the injunction was lifted but many people left.

I landed in Montgomery and was immediately met by a white volunteer who took me to an airport exit and quickly pushed me into a waiting car driven by a young black man. Both of us in our early twenties on an unknown adventure. We exchanged a few words. He thanked me for being there. He told me that he would be driving me to Brown Chapel in Selma. It was beginning to get dark and he warned me that if there were any cars behind us or cars coming toward us that I should duck down and not be seen. When I asked why he told me that Ku Klux Klan members and others knew that local blacks were transporting people from the north to Selma and that they were prepared to beat or kill both drivers and passengers. Suddenly the reality of my trip began to sink in. The fear that I felt that evening stayed with me the whole time I was in Selma.

While I was on that drive there was a murder. One of the ministers who had traveled from the north was beaten while walking the streets of Selma. James Reeb, a Unitarian minister had come to town from Boston just days before. He and some friends had gone out to dinner that night. As they walked past a local hang out they were attacked with clubs and baseball bats. Selma's public hospital refused to treat Reeb and he had to be transported two hours to Birmingham where he died two days later. Reeb's beating and eventual death caused outrage around the country and that in itself created more controversy for Dr. King. Many in the local black community as well as members of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee were angry that Jimmie Lee Jackson's death didn't receive the same notoriety or level of concern. They resented the fact that it took the death of a white preacher to get real attention.

I found myself at the picket line on the street in front of Brown Chapel for the next week or so, day and night, singing and praying with the children of Selma. Most of the adults were inside the Chapel. There was a line of protesters and a line of police facing each other. Every time they gave an inch, we took an inch. At a certain point Sheriff Jim Clark and Public Safety Commissioner Bull Connor tied up a clothesline rope and said if anyone crossed that line they'd pay the consequences. That rope became a symbol of confrontation and was dubbed the 'Berlin Wall'. Myself and a few others began singing to the tune of the Battle of Jericho:

They've got a rope that's the Berlin Wall

Berlin Wall, Berlin Wall.

They've got a rope that's the Berlin Wall

In Selma, Alabama.

Hate is the thing that built that wall

Built that wall, built that wall.

Love is the thing that will make it fall

In Selma, Alabama.

On Friday, King asked authorities that marchers be able to go a few blocks to the courthouse steps in Selma to hold a memorial service for Rev. Reeb. His request was refused. On Saturday, small groups of protesters were brought into Brown Chapel, 5 or 6 at a time. Andrew Young, one of King's colleagues who later became UN Ambassador and the Mayor of Atlanta, Ga. explained our next action. Demonstrators outside would try to hold the attention of the police by shouting, singing and going from one end of the street to the other causing the police to change their positions. Basically cause a raucous and raise hell.  He was looking for volunteers to try to continue to fool the police by going out one at a time with a local black companion to make a run for the steps of the courthouse at the same time that all of this was going on. Those who made it would hold the memorial service. I volunteered. My partner was a boy not older than 12. People began going out a side door. People were moving fast. Our time came and we ran like hell across the street, through the projects and through the woods. Branches from trees cut across my face and I was panting hard. In the distance I heard sirens. Jim Clark and his men had discovered our plan. My young partner yelled for me to hurry up and keep running. I realized at that point that we were both a little crazy. We arrived at the courthouse at the same time as the Sheriff and his men. There were others from our group already walking in a tight circle close to the courthouse steps and we joined them. There was always more safety in numbers. Local whites spat on us, swore at us and threatened us physically while deputies laughed and played with their clubs. We were ordered to walk back to Brown Chapel and we did so in a double line to give the impression of a march. Locals jeered us all along the way, spitting in our faces. A small price considering.

At this point, Dr. King was spending a lot of time shuttling between Selma and Montgomery trying to negotiate both the injunction and the court order. More and more people were arriving in Selma as a result of Rev. Reeb's death. There was little housing or shelter other than Brown Chapel, tarps and the projects across the street where black families opened their doors to strangers. Some of us stayed outside in the street. All night and all day. Singing and praying. I eventually got very sick and had to leave for home before the final march from Selma to Montgomery but some of my friends from St. Anselm's eventually got their parents permission and made it. I ended up in the hospital with pleurisy and a collapsed lung.

Eventually 25,000 people including celebrities, students and clergy from all over the country ended up on the capitol steps in Montgomery, protected by the US Army, the National Guard and the FBI. That evening, March 25th, Viola Liuzzo, a white mother of five from Detroit was assassinated by KKK members while she was driving marchers back to Selma from Montgomery. An FBI informant was among the Klansman in the car from which the shots were fired.

Those days and nights in Selma seemed longer than they actually were. It was barely spring. The nights were cool and the rain came for days at a time. What sleep there was, came on a pew in Brown Chapel or on the floor in the apartment of a local black family with other demonstrators. There was no time or place for showers. I had brought the basics with me. When I left Manchester, NH, I really had no idea if I'd be gone for a day or for weeks. The clothes on my back were pretty much what I had - a black suit, white shirt, a black tie, shoes and socks, a black raincoat and a couple of extra pair of underwear. That was pretty much it along with a shaving kit. All of this was basically my uniform from my days in the seminary, black and more black. Intentional or not I looked like a young clergyman from the north. That perception may have saved me once or twice or endangered me more often then I imagine.

Brown Chapel like so many other churches in the south had become the headquarters and center of the demonstrations in Selma. The street in front of Brown Chapel had intersections at both ends and the church was approximately in the center of the block. The street had been barricaded at both ends by the police. The clothesline at the one end had become a symbol rather then a real barrier so the wooden barricades became necessary. In effect, anyone who came to demonstrate became confined in that one block space. There were ways to escape the area. People could find ways to leave a few at a time through the back and on to the streets of Selma. The first Sunday that I was there, myself and two others went to the Catholic Church located in another part of town to attend Mass. We arrived early, went in and met the priest who was preparing for the service. He welcomed us, knew we were civil rights demonstrators and told us as long as no blacks were with us everything would be fine. The church was segregated, I couldn't believe it. I decided not to attend Mass that morning and headed back to Brown Chapel. I didn't really question my religion at the time but I certainly began questioning the people in it.

During the day the block filled with demonstrators singing, chanting and pressing to be allowed to march, a simple symbol of their freedom and rights - denied every day. At this point, a march to the courthouse for a memorial service for Rev. Reeb had become the simple focus. If that could happen, the march to Montgomery would surely follow. During that early period, the crowd of demonstrators was probably 75' deep with other people either in Brown Chapel or milling around in the street. Police presence was always greater at the end of the street where the protesters gathered. Every now and then as part of an organized plan, protesters would move quickly to the other end of the street. Police sirens would wail and cars and horses would ride down a parallel street to meet everyone at the new location at the other end of the block. Frustrations grew and at one point there was talk of meeting force with force but that never happened mainly due to the leadership of Rev. Hosea Williams, Andrew Young and John Lewis.

Mass meetings were held at night inside of Brown Chapel. Songs were sung, speeches given and strategies developed. News of Dr. King's negotiations with the federal government were relayed and recounted. I personally enjoyed taking the night shift outside. The crowd was smaller and we were just really making sure there was a presence continually at the barricade during these times. Most of my partners during those evening and nighttime hours were youngsters. They had beautiful voices and enthusiasm. Sometimes there were 10-15 of us standing there singing to police in helmets and riot gear. It was a time when both sides could look each other in the eye and even converse. There were plenty of mean men but there were also those who pleaded with us to come to our senses and stop what they considered the madness. They told us violence would occur and they didn't want to hurt anyone. They themselves were learning about the power of nonviolence and were uncomfortable with the potential orders they would have to follow. It rained and it poured one night. A tarp was set up and it effectively caught water that eventually would overflow and come down on our heads and necks. A fire burned nearby and we would warm ourselves for short periods. Food and coffee were brought to us from neighbors living along the street. These were the sights and sounds of Selma in 1965 as I remember them now.

What did I feel, learn and see in Selma? Here are a few words and concepts that remind me the most of Selma. Fear - absolute and real; Music and its importance for body and soul; Spirituality - the spirituality of the black people of the south in particular; The children of Selma - children, 7 or 8 to 15 or 16 and all ages in between. They were fearless and offered leadership to their parents and visitors from the north; the seniors of Selma - the elders who had seen it all and who knew things had to change; the hatred of the white community, my race; The absolute authority and abuse of power by the police.

So we know that Selma helped to change our country and civil rights, but how did it change me? What impact did it have on my life - then and in the future? It certainly matured me at least from an experience standpoint. I saw things I had never seen, felt things I had never felt and met people with tremendous passion and leadership qualities. Selma really did help to define me and to define my beliefs about many things. It helped me begin to study the world and people differently. Selma was my introduction to the philosophy of nonviolence. When I went, I knew a little about non-violence but mostly as a tactic. I didn't have any real experience with it. Arriving in this place where violence and intimidation were acceptable when blacks tried to do something as basic as register to vote or to speak up about it, I began to realize that non-violence was much bigger. I became more curious because of what I saw and what I witnessed. Selma opened my eyes to the likes of Gandhi and Dorothy Day and to pacifism as a belief and way of life. It certainly didn't happen overnight, but my mind was opened to writings and ideas that spread the word not just of peace but also about conscience and acts of conscience, civil disobedience and activism. Selma set me off in a new direction and it really was the first time I realized the power and importance of conscience. I would be arrested numerous times for acts of conscience in the future. I would be a part of other movements against violence and injustice and it really all came from that short but important experience in Selma, Alabama in 1965.

Remembering Some History - Selma & The Right To Vote

A few weeks ago I received an invite from Anna Suranyi, a History Professor at Endicott College in Beverly, MA. The purpose was to give a talk about my experiences in Selma, Al. back in 1965. 

A few years back I had given a similar talk to another one of Professor Suranyi’s class but in that case it was a live, in-person event. This time would be different. Due to the pandemic, the plan this time would be to do the presentation via Zoom. I had my original slide show and I felt good about doing something like this again. For the past year, like so many of you, I’ve been pretty much quarantined in my house. Of course it’s not just the pandemic. My current health status and the need for supplemental oxygen have restricted my mobility.

Of course there were other reasons to do this. February is Black History Month and it seemed both fitting and important to be able to offer something like this to students during that period. We’re also just a few weeks away from the 56th Annual Bridge Crossing Jubilee that will be held on March 5-7th. This will be the first year in recent memory without John Lewis, the civil rights icon and leader of the march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge on Bloody Sunday in ‘65. The reenactment is another victim of the pandemic and will be held virtually this year. Information on the event can be found at Selma Jubilee. So like I said, plenty of good reasons to agree to the invite.

On Feb. 18th, 2021, I logged onto Zoom and spent a little over an hour showing my slides, sharing experiences and telling stories about that time so long ago. I’ve written a lot about Selma over the years and I’m also in the process of putting a number of other personal historical documents together for posterity, so I didn’t really need much preparation. But of course, nerves are nerves so there were a few hours of wondering if I really could do justice to the topic and to the students. My goal was to not come across as an old man from the 60’s (which of course I am) talking about how great everything was and how we changed the world back then (which we didn’t). I wanted these young people to know that I was basically like them at that point in time. I was 21, trying to figure out who I was, where I fit in and how I could make a difference. I was growing, learning and experimenting with ideas, politics and personal values. I was in that state of rebellion that parents know so well. In my taIk, i also wanted to verbalize my frustration about what I thought had been accomplished in that moment in history and where we are now.

I wanted the students to relate the struggle to obtain the right to vote in the south in 1965 to the movement toward voter suppression that we have today. Here we are in 2021 with the Voting Rights Act virtually gutted, while there are at least 165 bills in state legislatures putting more restrictions on people’s ability to vote, especially people of color. Wrap tour head around that. None of us can feel cocky or complacent with that reality. The John Lewis Voting Rights Act’s passage is imperative along with the For The People Act. Both of these need to be a priority for Congress and our country. 

In the end, I think the presentation went well. There was clearly interest and the students made all the connections themselves. Time for a few questions and comments at the end that made me realize that we have to share oral and written history all the time so people can put their own times in context.

Doing Justice and Granting Mercy

A President's pardon power is allowed under the US Constitution for two very specific reasons. First to do justice and second to grant mercy. The framers recognized that justice is sometimes strained, sometimes not given and sometimes misguided. They also recognized that there are times when mercy is called for even if guilt has been established. These are lofty and valuable thoughts and beliefs. There is a recognition that sometimes systems breakdown and don't work and also that there are times when mercy can and should be given.

Of course these were mere men, centuries ago. They were striving for an ideal and there were religious connotations associated with much of their work. Their's was an experiment that they fiercely debated and took a chance on. I doubt that they had any idea of how long things would last or how complicated the world and their country would become. Just like us, they weren't prepared for the likes of Donald Trump.

We have witnessed again why the choice of leaders is so important. Business leaders, church leaders, political leaders, community leaders - all are of critical importance. Clearly there have been tons of errors in the past in choosing leaders but it never hurts to try to understand what happened and why. Ethics and values are sometimes breached. Poor decision making takes a toll and leaders are removed and changed. Yes choosing leaders is no light task.

Justice is no light task either. There are hundreds of thousands of people right now suffering from injustice. Lives are being wasted in prison cells for minor infractions or due to poor and unfair representation. And there are more examples than prison. People being evicted from homes or businesses. People being discriminated against. People dying due to health system inequalities. No, justice is no light task.

All of this brings me back to Donald Trump's Presidential Pardon spree which is far from over. Doing justice and granting mercy would imply that the person doing these things is capable of understanding them. I don't believe Donald Trump has this capability. What we're seeing is get out of jail free cards for friends, loyalists, political cronies, grifters, war criminals and most likely family members. Justice and mercy are missing in the equation and in the meantime true justice and real mercy for people who deserve it is ignored. 

What's Happened To Us?

America has always been presented as the best, the brightest, the most generous, the most democratic country in the world. Americans have presented themselves and their country in this way as they've traveled or as they sat home living their lives among their families and friends and in a wide variety of communities - large cities, rural communities, small villages and hamlets.

But then Donald Trump came along and impacted not just America but the entire world. Sadly, he represents something much bigger and longstanding - selfishness, hatred, bigotry, bullying, power and superiority are all part of it. His greatest and most relentless harm though is in his repetition of lies that feed on people's mistrust and sometimes hatred for their own government. Honestly, most people have this mistrust of government or management built into their DNA. Like anything else, some of it is deserved and healthy. It's a mixed bag when it comes to anti government promoters. There have been great and important anarchists over the centuries as well as dangerous and crazy ones. Conspiracy theorists haven't helped. But those who have wanted to exploit this mistrust have had a field day.

Certainly none of us like to be pushed around by government, told what to do or what to believe. We like to think we have that independent streak that built America in the first place. On the other hand, a concern for the common good and for people in trouble pulls at us from another direction. Some say it's religious beliefs, others say it's just a basic quality of humanity. There are values at work here - basic values of dignity, fairness, equality, compassion, empathy and more.

But here we are in 2020 and something has gone seriously wrong after four years of constant spewing of alternate realities. We let one man feed our anger and frustration, our fear of each other. We've stood by and watched over 300,000 of our fellow citizens die. Somewhere we became numb to the magnitude of that number. But it gets worse. We've allowed some to feed on the fear and hate of brothers and sisters of color. It has been a long time coming. Institutions meant to protect us all - police and courts have discriminated and hurt and, in too many cases, killed people in our name. Over the past few months we have watched executions ramp up as a Presidential term ends. We have seen even somewhat progressive states and governors continue to house large numbers of prisoners in close quarters during a pandemic and not even think about where these souls will fall on a priority list for vaccinations.

In many cases the pandemic has brought out the best and the worst in people. There are certainly heroes in public health, clinics and hospitals but then look at the anti maskers and party goers who seem to enjoy putting others at risk as they celebrate their independence. There are other selfish people like corporate leaders taking money meant for small businesses, churches and synagogues fighting legal battles to act irresponsibly with the lives they are purporting to serve. Businesses refusing to follow restrictions. Politicians celebrating their independence from facts and science.

Yes, we all need to look at each other and talk to each other about what we've become during the past four years. Why have we failed each other so badly? Why did we become so callous about the deaths of so many people? Why didn't we all rise up sooner and louder and more effectively? Most importantly, we have to ask will we let it happen again? 

This Is Not A Drill

Yes, we are in serious trouble and no, this is not a drill. 

In case you haven't been paying attention we have a leader who is an authoritarian, antidemocratic and a demagogue. His belief is that if he doesn't win the upcoming election, it is rigged. His latest moves are to threaten that he will ignore the tradition of a peaceful transfer of power if he doesn't win reelection on Nov. 3. No matter what you think about voting, elections, candidates or process, the peaceful transfer of power is what separates democracies from dictatorships. 

The President of the United States says his power and authority are "total". They are not. He has made it clear that he will do anything to keep this fictional power and authority. He touts how well he has managed a health crises that has killed over 200,000 Americans.  In the middle of a highly contagious pandemic he invites his own supporters into arenas where no masks or social distancing are required. Yes, he is putting people's lives in danger by not following guidelines from his own administration. Recently he has threatened to override a decision by the Food and Drug Administration relative to the release of a vaccine for Covid-19 building more distrust in national health policy. He has ordered and used force against his own people. He praises violence against journalists. He has called for "able-bodied" pole watchers. He will create and use enemy lists to punish citizens and opponents. He will pack the courts to make sure he remains in power and that his policies will continue for years. He will not act in the best interests of his country. He has confused people about mail in ballots and instilled fear in people about the institution of voting.

What do we do? Certainly people need to vote. People need to think about how and where they vote. This year more than ever, every voter needs to find out and understand what the local rules are relative to mail in voting as well as in person voting. We need to talk to each other and support each other as voters, families, friends and neighbors because this Presidency and election have put people at odds. The tension, fatigue and exhaustion is being felt by everyone. We're facing things like western forest fires, hurricanes, a pandemic, unemployment and educational struggles. People are stressed and looking for some type of answers and relief.

When fascist leaders appear on the world stage they are sometimes ignored. At other times they are challenged both internally and externally. People will put up with a lot it seems, but at a certain point, people of conscience begin to speak up and act. Conscience is an interesting thing. We all have it. We all struggle with it at some point in our lives. Sometimes we are able to ignore it or tamp it down. There are other times when it screams out at us and demands action. War, violence, injustice, dishonesty, hurtful actions to minorities and damage to the common good are the types of things that make a conscience stand up and act. For many people the criteria for conscientious witness has been met.

There may be more difficult things that people need to be prepared to do. Massive civil disobedience may be required. People like to talk supportively about peaceful protests but let's be clear, civil disobedience and mass arrests may be a necessary response to the actions of a dictator. If it comes to that, these protests will not be pretty. Noncooperation as a response to authoritarianism has a long and valued history in resistance movements around the world as well as in this country. Study up.

Understand The Outrage

The fact is, there are people who don't understand the outrage people are feeling from the latest justice failure in Louisville, Kentucky. All of us, yes all of us, should step back for a moment and understand the reality of why people are outraged.

Breonna Taylor was a young Black woman who's life was erased by the Kentucky Attorney General and the Grand Jury that looked at the incident leading to her death. She isn't the first Black woman or the only Black person whose life has been erased by various Police Departments, States, and Grand Jurys. Think about that. Her life was literally erased from the incident that occurred in her apartment so many months ago. Her name didn't seem to appear anywhere in the indictment that was issued by the Grand Jury. People dwelling in other apartments at the time of the incident were named, but Breonna Taylor, shot as a bystander was not mentioned. 

That in itself is a major part of the outrage. The pain that Breonna's family must feel is incomprehensible to me. A young woman, an EMT and first responder in her community, shot six times and killed in an incident where the actual facts of the warrant and process continue to be under investigation. Yet her name, her person and her being are erased from the entire affair. 

So yes, we can condemn violence and condemn looting but in the end that will make little difference if we don't begin to understand the injustice of a judicial and investigative process that erases people from receiving any justice. This is why we have to say her name - Breonna Taylor - over and over, until more people associated with administering what is supposed to be equal justice begin to understand. The justice system has to change. There has to be transparency when police officers are involved in the death of citizens. Until we have those kind of changes, there will continue to be righteous outrage and anger and people will continue to say her name - Breonna Taylor......Breonna Taylor shot and killed as a bystander with no justice.

"Together, You Can Redeem the Soul of Our Nation" John R. Lewis

Everyone should read the last words published by John Lewis. You can read them here. They are powerful words for all of us but especially for the young people involved in the Black Lives Matter movement. John Lewis is speaking clearly to a younger generation, offering them a hand  to rise up onto his shoulders. He understood the need and passion for change better than most. He understood the costs and the pain. That's why he offered his support and wisdom. He's warning us that it won't be easy. It never has been. But he's offering leadership and support that is so lacking from others.

Don't be afraid to speak up and speak out. Don't be afraid of the consequences. Depend on each other. Build bridges within movements, not walls. When you see injustice, don't let it stand, do something about it.

Let's all remember what a radical he was. He wasn't always loved. He certainly wasn't loved when he sat down in the well of the House of Representatives and led other Congresspeople in a sit in there. Also always remember that he was radical in his nonviolent resistance throughout his life. He knew and understood nonviolence. He understood its political power and its ability to force his antagonists to face their own hatred and anger. 

We owe John Lewis a great deal but he already knew that and he accepted what we gave back to him humbly. The real challenge now though is to read those words he wrote and not just today but many times as battles ahead are faced. Finally, let's celebrate the leader that he was with the wisdom to reach out to the young people who are in the streets today and tomorrow. 

Prophets and Saints Among Us - John R. Lewis

I first met John Lewis in 1965. He wasn't famous. He wasn't a big shot of any kind. I had gone down to Selma, Al. just days after the nation watched on TV as a mob of deputies beat and pushed back 600 peaceful marchers. Over the next few weeks I was in Selma, either in Brown Chapel or outside on the street trying to march from the area where police had effectively penned us all in. I was 21, a college student and pretty naive. John Lewis was 25, already a leader and very smart. 

There was a lot going on in that time and place. Much of it I've only learned about years later by reading books and talking to others who participated. While I stood facing a rope that sheriff deputies had put up to fence us in and singing protest songs with local youngsters, John Lewis, Hosea Williams, Andrew Young and James Bevel among others were fine tuning and organizing behind the scenes. Martin Luther King,  Jr. and Ralph Abernathy were away from Selma negotiating with a federal judge about the march to Montgomery. The others were left behind to keep things moving and organized. There were tensions between younger generation protesters represented by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Council (SNCC) and the leadership of the Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC). There were philosophical minefields and some things had to be threaded through the eye of a needle to keep everyone focused on the same mission. This tends to happen in political movements of any type but resolution here was critical.

The nights were cold and rainy. I remember John Lewis huddled with others around a fire in a 55 gallon drum. Some people were mad and arguing about outsiders taking over their protest, their movement. Lewis would go back and forth between the fire and the Chapel and relay messages and feelings from the younger folks to the older (over 30) leaders of SCLC. That's how I remember it anyway, even though I wasn't any part of the conversations. I just knew there was tension and some of us were just supposed to keep the police focused and distracted by our presence at the rope and barricades. 

So that was my first encounter with John Lewis. We probably drank coffee from the same pot and may have shared a sandwich from the boxes that were made by people in the neighborhood. I do know we shared the warmth of that fire in the drum on a few cold nights.

I met John again in 2003. By that time most everybody knew who the Congressman from Georgia was, including me and I was in awe. I had been invited by my then Congressman Amo Houghton to go along with him on the annual Faith & Politics Institute's Congressional Pilgrimage to Alabama. At that time the Institute was Co-Chaired by Lewis and Houghton, a bit of an odd couple but they had grown to be very close, an attribute John Lewis was famous for. When Amo introduced me to John it was as "this is the fellow I told you about who was with you in Selma." John Lewis' reaction was immediate. He took my hand, pulled me toward him and we embraced while he patted me on the shoulder. "Good to see you. We'll talk along the way" he said and we did. We caught up as they say.

That trip included plane flights, bus trips, hotel stops and meals as well as stops at major civil rights historical sites. John did what he did best. He shared the stories of his past and about those sites, the good times and the bad times, the victories and the dreams not yet met. Along the way, I told John about my history after my experience in Selma. How I had gone to the Catholic Worker in NYC, met and worked with Dorothy Day, opposed the war in Vietnam, refused induction and went to federal prison. He knew of Dorothy, the Worker, her work for nonviolence and peace. He told me he was proud of the action I took against the war and thanked me for it.

His passing is hard. He was like a beacon. I'm glad he got to see that Black Lives Matter painted on the street in Washington D.C.  To look down on it and to stand on the letters. He made that and so much more happen. John Lewis was someone you could believe in. Justice and peace and reconciliation were the things he stood for but that didn't mean he couldn't get angry or raise hell when he had to. The world is a better place because of John Lewis. He knew how to laugh and sing and dance after the hard work was done. He was just one of the prophets and saints among us and we were lucky to have him. Rest in Power John Lewis.

The Culture of Policing and What We Can and Must Change

There has been much talk since the death of George Floyd at the hands of police in Minneapolis, Minnesota, about changing policing in America. Change is necessary and long overdue as we continue to see more examples of inappropriate use of force on a daily basis. But while we change it, we need to understand this culture that all of us have helped to create.

Policing is really about power, authority, domination and control. It's also about who's in control. We know it, we just don't talk about it very clearly or often enough. The power and control spills over into other jobs and institutions like prisons, mental health facilities, group homes, homeless shelters, schools and health care facilities. Anywhere that one group of people is deemed in control and more powerful than another group. In this process, the kept become less human than their keepers and all of the rules change. We are no longer all equal under the law. Not all of the keepers are bad people but they have to fight every day to continue to see the humanity of people placed under their control. They face peer pressure as well as supervisory and administrative pressure to meet their mission of control and order and economic bottom lines.

Unless we understand that this is what we do to each other and what we expect others to do for us, we will never be able to change all of the systems that need to be changed. The intimidation of a prison guard, being able to control when you eat, if you shower, or what you read, is not that much different than a bad policeman, teacher, clerk in an office and so on. Power over others seems to be addictive and it can spread within institutional thinking. Policies, training and protections have to be in place to control it. Treating people with dignity and respect is a basic value that should drive any organization. It becomes much, much worse when we add racism to the equation. Yes, when people in power are mostly white, when the people they represent are mostly white, should we be surprised at how racism creeps into this system of power and control. People of color are treated differently with every interaction and we should all know it by now.

We add to the problem when we model our police after the military or worse a militia. It starts with uniforms, insignias, badges and titles like Chief, Lieutenant and Sargent. It moves forward more clearly with weapons, guns and military grade equipment. Crowd control demands more oppressive items like shields, three foot batons, tear gas, rubber bullets and pepper spray. The weaponry and guns of the police have increased in a similar way as the nuclear arms race. As guns and the use of guns have increased in the US, police agencies have felt the need to keep up to try to stay on equal footing with criminals. Law enforcement, municipalities and legislators just can't seem to connect the dots between more guns equaling more guns. Yes, we've continued to militarize the police. All of these things have seemed appropriate at one time or another, unless of course your head was clubbed or your son or daughter was gassed while protesting.

The black experience with law enforcement is brutal and immoral. The fact that we as a society have allowed and condoned people to be shot while running from an officer with no weapon or to be beaten and choked for crimes where a white person would be reasoned with and ultimately given a mere warning for similar instances should help us understand. But does it? Or, are we all so much a part of the problem, that we haven't seen our own responsibility for inappropriate policing? 

People are beginning to understand that there are some really basic changes that need to happen. Things like licensing and professionalizing people we call policeman. Looking seriously at who is being hired for policing positions. Ongoing training in deescalation and calming techniques. Real oversight of complaints and tracking of inappropriate citizen encounters or the use of force. Reallocation of policing dollars to community programs that will help to reduce or change interactions with the police. Demilitarization of police agencies including a review of who should actually be carrying weapons. Make unions and their members in law enforcement accountable for their representation and defense of bad and dangerous behavior. End the use of chokeholds. Require intervention when police see other police violating policies or civil rights. Reimagine law enforcement itself, its language, its dress, its purpose.

Black lives certainly do matter. People who are black should not be treated any differently than anyone else in terms of any police intervention. Equal justice under the law. Enough is enough. Help bring about change now. Protest, meet with local officials, write letters, donate to organizations fighting for change and hold elected officials accountable.

Outside Agitation vs Dismantling Institutional Racism

I preface this article by letting people know that I detest violence. I've fought against it most of my life. Having said that, I have also seen the establishment, almost always, blame the consequences of public demonstrations on outside agitators and anarchists. Fairly seldom has any blame been placed on segregationists, homophobes, or sexists or white nationalists. Usually, the accusers also have very little knowledge about the political philosophy of anarchism or personalism but what they know is that throwing out the term anarchism can produce visceral reactions. That is a topic though for another article.

The recent events in Minneapolis have caused lots of feelings, actions and reactions. Government officials responding to property destruction are moving in a direction of militarism, strong physical containment, and purportedly some questionable citizen electronic surveillance. There has always been a tendency to blame others when a crisis shows up. Blaming victims of injustice is an easy but incorrect response.

The fact is that it's much easier to ratchet up and blame outside agitators than it is to analyze, discuss and bring about the systemic changes that end racism in society, government culture & operations, policing, or criminal justice. Throughout history there have always been righteous outsiders & agitators. The list could go on and on. They showed up in Seneca Falls, Selma, and Stonewall. Some of that list includes names like Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcom X, Gandhi, Dorothy Day, Cesar Chavez.

The first step right now is to understand the pent up anger and frustration with systems that never change. People have been here before. Communities of color and poor people understand the past better than most of us. The list of deaths, arrests, beatings and unfair treatment are long and old. Demonstrations and marches have taken place before and nothing changes. America is a tinder box. We have a President who tweets hatred and lies to the masses. We have white men and women showing up at state capitols with military grade weapons and no consequences. We have a criminal justice system hidden from society unless you have to contend with it yourself. We have prison populations made up of the poor and people of color. There are police and police agencies who treat the black community differently and many times brutally. Government officials and community leaders would be better off discussing and solving these issues, short term and long term.

There always have been provocateurs and probably always will be. They include the left, the right, undercover police, undercover intelligence agencies, militia members, etc. This fight though is about justice. It includes policing, housing, jobs, economic fairness. None of this is about one city at a time. This is about our entire country and we need to recognize it quickly. 

So let's not have issues of who's marching, who's protesting and which group needs to be surveilled take over the conversation, the activities, or the hard work of systemic change. We need to keep our eyes on the prize and fight for true justice for all, in the street, in the council room and in the board room.