The Eleventh Muse

Posted on May 28, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

The Eleventh Muse

(For Maya Angelou)

No stories of female griots? How so?
You’re a part of that time honored tradition.
Great God fashioned “Lucy” first,
The progenitor of the human race.
Children first heard stories sitting on your lap,
Stories of Creation, and of the Fall;
Stories about rising, not falling —
You nurtured future griots on oral history.
We have gathered together in your name
So you can tell us why the caged bird sings.
You opened your arms and embraced us,
Loved us with the heart of a phenomenal woman.
You have your finger on the pulse of the nation.
We eagerly await your prognosis.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

A New Paradigm – Elevating the Voice of Formerly Incarcerated People

Posted on May 7, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

With the recent launch of JustLeadershipUSA, Glenn Martin, President and Founder of JustLeadershipUSA, is looking to elevate the voice of Americans impacted by crime and incarceration, especially people who have been imprisoned, by positioning them as “informed, empowered reform partners.”  This will be done through leadership development, policy advocacy and reframing.  JustLeadershipUSA has as its goal cutting the U.S. prison population in half by 2030.

At 2.2 million people confined, the U.S. prison population has increased exponentially since the late 1960s,beginning with Richard Nixon’s candidacy and declaration of war, that is, the “war on crime,” in 1968, which specifically targeted Lyndon B. Johnson’s Great Society, which Nixon declared “lawless.”  Since then, various laws and policies, on the Federal and state level, have contributed to mass incarceration and the grossly disproportionate imprisonment of people of color, mostly men, in the United States: Rockefeller Drug Law in New York (1973), which was adopted in other states; mandatory minimum sentencing across the nation as well as the Federal criminal justice system (1984), with the Federal government providing monetary incentives, in the form of block grants, for states to adopt mandatory minimum sentencing, which almost always increases the length of time in prison (New York’s Governor, George Pataki, continuously mentioned how New York would not be eligible for these block grants to build more prisons or hire more police if the state did not adopt mandatory minimum sentencing, which it did in 1998 after the tragic killing of a young woman by an individual who had been on parole for a nonviolent crime); crack-cocaine laws, which created longer prison sentences for crack-cocaine convictions over cocaine convictions, which disproportionately impacted people of color; the Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996, which made it easier, read quicker, to execute people sentenced to death; it also limited the right of habeas corpus, creating procedural hurdles that were too high to jump, not to mention the United States Supreme Court even ruling that a showing of “actual innocence” by an individual in prison could not overcome these procedural hurdles; tougher parole releasing policies as well as the increase in technical parole violations (returning people to prison for non-criminal violations of parole rules such as curfew violations or “fraternizing with known felons”); elimination of temporary release (including work release) programs; and three strikes laws requiring life sentences for those with three separate felony convictions, even relatively innocuous and nonviolent third felony convictions.

Thirty years after Richard Nixon declared his war on crime, people incarcerated in the mid- and late ‘60s, ‘70s and early ‘80s were being released from prison.  This is the reality, as Jeremy Travis writes and thus entitles a journal article and a book: “But They All Come Back: Rethinking Prisoner Reentry” (2000), and But They All Come Back: Facing the Challenges of Prisoner Reentry (2005).  At the other end of the mass incarceration tunnel were individuals coming back from prison.  The numbers are staggering.  In 2002, more than 630,000 individuals were released from Federal and state prisons, and since then that number has remained pretty much the same.  Thirty years prior to that, the number was less than 150,000 individuals.

When we look at the more than 630,000 individuals released from Federal and state prisons every year, this translates into, every day, about 1,700 individuals released from these prisons, exploding onto the American landscape and this Era of Reentry.  At the same time, there was great interest and thus an explosion of journal and newspapers articles on this phenomenon as well as books such as Jennifer Gonnerman’s Life on the Outside: The Prison Odyssey of Elaine Bartlett, which shows how a bit player, not a queenpin, got caught up in a drug sale and was given a life sentence under the draconian Rockefeller Drug Law, while the more culpable people involved in the drug world who set her up got a get-out-of-jail-free card.  Additionally, there were the stories of the people themselves, those who had been imprisoned; they showed us compelling cases of the possibilities of transformation and what it looked like.  They added something new, something different, to the reentry narrative, that is, through their stories, which they began to tell at conferences, at colleges, to journalism grad students, on radio shows and television.  Some wrote about these experiences, mostly stories of their transformation.  See Harvey Brown’s Freedom at Last: The Life of an Ex-Con, and Theo Harris’ Blessed and Highly Favored: Memoirs of a Multiple Felon.  See also Piper Kerman’s Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women’s Prison.  The most important thing was that these men and women were taking control of their stories, not just being subjects, but also being authors of their own stories.

There was something familiar in their stories, in their narratives, if you will, something that tapped into the historical connection between slavery and imprisonment in the United States.  As many should know by now, imprisonment of people of color replaced slavery.  (And the disproportionate imprisonment of people of color began even before the end of slavery.  Gustave de Tocqueville and Alexis de Beaumont, in their study, On the Penitentiary System in the United States and Its Application in France, published in 1833, noted the disproportionate imprisonment of “Negroes” in the Southern States.)  This is stated explicitly in the Thirteenth Amendment: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”  The big difference is that people who have been duly convicted of a crime aren’t given any moral agency – “They committed a crime!”  This, some think, takes away from the fact that imprisonment is slavery under another name, and imperfectly Constitutional.

These stories, these narratives, are similar to the slave narratives, eloquently given voice by Frederick Douglass.  Making the transition from talking about slavery to talking about prison, more recently, we think of Malcolm X and his odyssey as documented by Alex Haley’s The Autobiography of Malcolm X.

These stories have been critical in including the voices of those imprisoned and those formerly incarcerated.  However, they are mere testimonies, powerful, but individual stories that only touch the iceberg of the problems of mass incarceration.  Imagine if Frederick Douglass confined his speeches to his experiences as a slave.  We would not have got his talk about the importance of the franchise, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” (1852), which is an issue of importance today for those imprisoned and those formerly incarcerated, many of them having lost the right to vote for life in a number of states, mostly Southern, as a direct result of a felony conviction.  And imagine if Malcolm X confined his speeches to his experiences as a prisoner.  We would not have his famous speech, “The Ballot or the Bullet” (1964), given more than 100 years after Douglass’ speech on the same topic.

When Martin of JustLeadershipUSA talks about elevating the voice of Americans impacted by crime, he is talking about much more than the formerly incarcerated providing their testimony.  He is talking about the people “closest to the problem” providing solutions to the problem.  Indeed, many who have been on this reentry circuit for a number of years think of this “testimony-telling” and only testimony-telling as a “dog and pony” show.  Needless to say, providing this testimony is important, more so for someone recently released as opposed to someone who has been out of prison for a number of years and has continued his or her formal education and worked in various capacities in the for-profit and the not-for-profit world, oftentimes in leadership positions.

JustLeadershipUSA is positioning itself to go beyond the dog and pony show.  It is, however, only the most recent organization looking to elevate the voice of formerly incarcerated people, but unique in that its goal is to reduce the U.S. prison population in half by 2030.  Before JustLeadershipUSA, in New York, there was the Center for NuLeadership on Urban Solutions.  In California, there was All of Us or None.

The mission of the Center For NuLeadership on Urban Solutions is “to influence socio-economic, criminal and juvenile justice policy by providing research, advocacy and leadership training to formerly and currently incarcerated people, their families, communities, allies and criminal justice professionals….”  Similar to JustLeadershipUSA, the Center for NuLeadership on Urban Solutions promotes “active participation in criminal and social justice policy decisions, discussions and deliberation by the people whose lives are most directly affected and who have a legitimate stake in the outcome.”

All of Us Or None “is a grassroots civil rights organization fighting for the rights of formerly- and currently-incarcerated people and our families.  We are fighting against the discrimination that people face every day because of arrest or conviction history.  The goal of All of Us or None is to strengthen the voices of people most affected by mass incarceration and the growth of the prison-industrial complex.  Through our grassroots organizing, we will build a powerful political movement to win full restoration of our human and civil rights.”

There are other organizations across the country, founded by formerly incarcerated individuals and their families, most notably Citizens Against Recidivism, Inc., based in New York, which holds an annual Awards Ceremony honoring formerly incarcerated people for their work in the world and in their communities.  The Awards are named after formerly incarcerated people.  Also worth noting is Exodus Transitional Community, Inc., a faith-based reentry organization in East Harlem founded by Julio Medina, which has garnered national attention for its work in the field of reentry.

Many of the above organizations were formed because the founders wanted to create new possibilities for themselves and others similarly situated.  Additionally, working at established organizations, reentry organizations included, these individuals encountered the green wall, the glass ceiling for formerly incarcerated people.  Most of these organizations were not truly cultivating the leadership of its formerly incarcerated employees.

Michelle Alexander, in her book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (2010), has mainstream America and academia talking about the criminal justice system in ways we have not previously, stating that incarceration is being used as a “system of racial control.”  Martin and JustLeadershipUSA, and the other organizations mentioned above, as well as those not mentioned, are creating a new paradigm to not only elevate the voice of formerly incarcerated people, but also to develop the leadership of this group.  With this, we are moving into another stage of this Era of Reentry.  Stay tuned.

 

Posted in Justice Chronicles, Malcolm X, Parole, Reentry, Slavery, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Just Say Yes to the Ministry of Life! (Corinthians 4:7-18)

Posted on April 20, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

When we read the letters of the Apostle Paul to the various Christian communities he wrote, we see the theme of death bringing them together like relatives to a funeral.  At times it seems like Paul was obsessed with death and dying.  In his first letter to the Corinthians, he said, “I die every day” (15:31).  It is important to note that Paul had bitter and dangerous enemies.  Every day he put himself at risk of death by proclaiming the Gospel.  And although I think that on one level Paul was talking about the suffering he endured as a result of his ministry, I can’t help but think that he was preaching a ministry of death, an otherworldly religion unconcerned about the quality of life in the present; but the Gospel deals with the present reality of God’s rule and its future realization.  In the very same letter Paul wrote, “I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, as though sentenced to death.”  I’m still talking about the first letter to the Corinthians.  Paul wrote, “The appointed time has grown short” (7:29).  The appointed time has grown short?  In other words, time was running out for Paul.

In other letters Paul conveyed this impending sense of doom, of death fast approaching, of the end of the world as he knew it.  I believe that Paul believed that the end was near.  Not only do I believe this, but many of the early Christians did too.  In fact, one of the issues in Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians dealt with this ministry of death.  Some Thessalonians had stopped working because they believed that the end was near.  Paul had to write to them and tell them not to stop working.  In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians he had to deal with this very same question of death, and the resurrection.  If there is not life after death, the people said, let us eat and drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.  But Paul instructed the Corinthians not to stop living, and not to live in excess.  Live as if the end is near, but live as if it isn’t.  The key word here is “live,” and we’ll get back to it.

Paul has traveled a long way since he was on the road to Damascus to persecute Christians, since he began to proclaim the Gospel, and he may be a little tired.  Carrying the cross wasn’t an easy thing in Paul’s time.  Christians were being persecuted.  Paul may be tired of living and his understanding of the end of time probably contributed to this thinking, which comes across as a theology of death.  But the lesson of the cross is not the dying that Jesus did, but the living that we must do so that his life and his ministry on this earth will not have been in vain.  Paul knew this.  In the letter to the Romans he wrote:

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?  Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life….  So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus (Rom 6:3-4, 11).

If we follow the cross we don’t follow it in anticipation of death, of life after death – at least not physical death.  No, we don’t have a death wish.  We don’t follow the cross as if it is a road leading toward death.  The ministry of Jesus wasn’t a ministry of death.  It was a ministry of life.  That’s why Jesus was healing people, so that they could participate in the life of the community.  The ministry of Jesus wasn’t simply a ministry of the afterlife, which is another way of saying death, perhaps a “life” we don’t understand.  Jesus’ ministry was a ministry of life.  And we say yes to the ministry of life, and no to the ministry of death.

Let’s talk about life, not death.  To Paul’s statement that he dies daily, let’s say that every day we live.  To his statement that he is living under a sentence of death, let’s say that we are living under a sentence of life.  To his belief that the end is near, let’s say that we are at the very beginning.  Let’s talk about life, not death.  But we can’t talk about the cross without talking about the death of Jesus.  And we can’t talk about the death of Jesus without talking about the resurrection.  And we can’t talk about the resurrection without talking about Paul’s witness and ministry.  And we can’t talk about Paul’s ministry without talking about this ministry of death.

The cross is not about death.  As Delores S. Williams writes, “People do not have to attach sacred validation to a bloody cross in order to be redeemed or to be Christians.”[1]  When Jesus cried out on the cross that he was being forsaken by God, it was because he valued life; he didn’t want to die, even though it was written and would be fulfilled.  Jesus’ instincts told him to fight for life.  Remember, Jesus didn’t choose the cross.  Like any death row prisoner, Jesus fought for his life.

The cross symbolizes life, revealed in the resurrection.  The resurrection is about life after death, in more ways than one.  For us, it’s not simply the afterlife, after physical death.  It’s a new life for those while they’re imprisoned.  It’s life after prison.  When we talk about death, we mean that the sinful persons we were are dead.  We are “born again” as new men with a vision of life.  We take up the cross and the idea of resurrection in order that we can live, in order that we can rejoin the community of believers.

When we talk about resurrection, we talk about Paul’s understanding of this.  Now, Paul is one of the central characters in the early development of and propagation of the teachings of Jesus.  He wrote many of his letters from prison.  I like the idea that he illuminated the Biblical faith from prison.  What does Paul say?  He’s an “ambassador in chains,” and he’s not ashamed of his chains.  As Malcolm X often said, there is no shame in having been a criminal, but in remaining a criminal.

As I said, Paul’s often writing from prison.  Despite this, he’s a central character in the story of Christianity.  However, he’s not always right.  I should say, we don’t always agree with him.  He wrote from a particular social location, where slavery was accepted, where women were considered subordinate.  We don’t agree with Paul that slaves should obey their masters or that women should be seen and not heard in the church.  I’m saying this to say that Paul is deeply influenced by his social context and heavily burdened by the demands of the cross.  He often lost heart and spoke about the end of time, which was hard for him to visualize.  Moreover, his letters have been interpreted in far too many instances to form a theology that’s purely otherworldly – let’s get out of this physical world and to the next!  How many times have we heard people say, “I’m ready to die for my Lord!”  Jesus didn’t ask anybody to die for him, but to live through him, walk the way he walked.

The Psalmist wrote, “I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” (Ps 28:13).  I believe this.  Jesus talked about the realization of a new community on earth that would live a certain way.  This community would embrace justice and lovingkindness.  The kingdom of God is right here, not in some place beyond space and time!  Jesus was saying that the kingdom of God can be realized on earth as it is realized in heaven.  Look around, right here, right now.  So when Paul talks about the ministry of death, let’s think about the burden of the cross and how sometimes it overwhelmed him.  He probably thought that that place beyond time and death was better than the present order.

When we carefully read the letters of Paul, we see that it’s not the ministry of death that Paul believed in, but the ministry of life.  Let us carefully note one verse in the text for today.  It is, “For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh” (4:11).  I want to repeat a part of that: so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh.

Now, if we’re talking about the life of Jesus, we’re talking about his ministry, we’re talking about the way he lived it.  If we read the Gospel carefully, we see that Jesus, this mortal Jesus that lived, loved life.  All of the acts he performed were life-affirming.  He gave the blind their sight so they could see the beauty of the world; he enabled the lame to walk so they could get around on their own; he cleansed lepers so they could rejoin the community; he gave the deaf hearing so they could hear the good news, the Word of God; he raised the dead.  Why raise the dead?  For life.  Yes, Jesus was about life, not death.  In providing bread, Jesus fed the hungry.  This is life-affirming.  In turning water to wine at that wedding Jesus enabled the guests to make merry.  Yes, Jesus liked to eat and drink and I dare say be merry.  This is life-affirming.  When he was on the cross and screamed out that he was being forsaken, perhaps he was crying out because he didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to stop living and ministering to the people he loved.  His earthly ministry of life, he knew, was coming to an end.  And if what is said about death approaching is true, his life, his ministry, probably flashed before his eyes.  Perhaps it so overwhelmed him that he screamed out that he was being forsaken.  It’s a human instinct not to want to die, to fight for life.  Why would we go totally against our instincts, the right to life, the breath of life that God gave us, and follow the cross if it means death?

In the text for today, Paul talked about his afflictions.  They were foremost in his mind.  They were practically a part of his ministry – they came with the cross.  But I think if Paul had to do it all over again, he would.  He really had no choice.  He’d heard the voice of God.  He was instructed what to do.  He was chosen as an instrument for God’s purpose.

A pastor who visited prisoners preached from Acts 9:1-22.  That’s the story of Saul on the road to Damascus.  That’s the story of the beginning of Saul’s conversion.  The pastor preached that Saul was given a second chance.  With that second chance he became Paul and embarked upon his ministry.  And the rest is history.  His letters in the New Testament are a testimony to his ministry, are a testimony to how we all must live, how we must travel.

Once we choose the road we’re going to travel down, our walk in life, especially if we choose to walk in Jesus’ footsteps, we must keep in the forefront of our minds that every step we take our faith is being tested.  We have to walk the walk, not just talk it.  Every step we take we should come closer to our calling, to hearing the voice of God.  Of course all conversions aren’t as dramatic as Paul’s, but we all come closer to that second chance that we ceaselessly hope and pray for, but only if we are on the right road.  That’s what life is all about.  Rarely do we get it right the first time.  Many of us don’t even get it right the second or third time.  Still, don’t give up.  That’s what the teachings of Paul are all about.  Hearing and living the Word.  That’s what the Gospel is about.  Hearing and living the Word.  We know this in our hearts, we know.

We are not always optimistic.  It’s hard to remain optimistic in this political climate where our leaders talk peace but wage war.  Even the language of “crime-fighting” is couched in terms of war.  The “war on crime” and the “war on drugs.”  In all wars, there are casualties.  People die.  Many physical deaths, some spiritual ones.  That’s the giving up on hope, because we give up on God.  God, where are you?  Have you forsaken me?  When we reach this point, we may scream out like Jesus on the cross that we have been forsaken, we may, like Paul, think about death and dying, go straight to that afterlife which must be better than this life.

We often feel that we are a million miles from redemption, a million miles from restoration to our communities and our families.  We have traveled long and are often tired, but we should not lose heart.  “This slight momentary affliction” is preparing all of us for a glory beyond what even we expect of each other.  For this reason we should not lose heart.  We know that there is a ministry of death, and a ministry of life.  Let’s choose life.  Let’s say yes to the ministry of life, and no to the ministry of death.  Let’s hope and pray that all of us will just say yes to the ministry of life, for it is the ministry of life Jesus preached and believed in.  It is life we should believe in, not death.  Let’s eat and drink and breathe this ministry of life.

We have this treasure, this life in earthen vessels, or clay jars, if you will.  From the womb to the tomb we have a lot of living to do in what seems like a very little time, but whatever time is allowed us, it is time beyond measurement.  Let’s make the most of this time.  It is time in which we must find our calling, our ministry, and fulfill it.  And it’s a ministry of life, not death.  Listen to the voice of God.  Hear the Word of the Lord.  This life was created for living, not dying.  Just say yes to the ministry of life.  Just say yes to the ministry of life.  Amen.

 

[1] Delores S. Williams, Sisters in the Wilderness: The Challenge of Womanist God-Talk (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), pp. 200-01.

Posted in Jesus, Malcolm X, Relationships, Religion, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

We Are All on Trial with Jesus: And We Must Take a Stand (An Excerpt from a Sermon I gave years at Sing Sing Prison, and at Rye Presbyterian Church)

Posted on April 13, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

In this age where one sensational trial replaces another, where we greedily consume the latest lurid details in the Lorena Bobbitt trial, the abused woman who took a pound of flesh from her husband, John Wayne Bobbitt, or the trial of the moment, where we await a verdict in the Menendez case, the two brothers on the West Coast who out of the love of money killed their wealthy parents, where we have had the Rodney King Beating trials, parts I and II, almost like a bad movie and its better sequel, where we might have Crown Heights Part II, where the Black Brooklyn youth acquitted of killing a Hasidic Jew might face the same charges in federal court because of political pressure from the Jewish community, who believe that justice wasn’t done, where someplace across this great nation, at this very moment, a trial is going on, I wonder, who is on trial, the defendants or the viewing audience?  I submit to you that we are all on trial, whether we are watching or being watched, whether we are judging or being judged.

Now, I want to talk about the trial of Jesus.  It wasn’t much of a trial, as we know trials today.  And then again, the trial is familiar: Jesus is railroaded by a criminal justice system where the cards are heavily stacked against him, where many charges are brought against him, where the prosecution is more concerned with a conviction than with justice.  The only thing we can say for the entire proceeding, is that it was swift, something most people charged with crimes want, waiting for their day in court months if not years.

If we read the transcripts of Jesus’ trial, what’s recorded in the Gospels, we don’t see much evidence.  It just goes to show you how very little evidence was and is needed to convict a person of a capital crime.  Remember what Sol Wachtler, the former Chief Judge of our highest State court, said a few years back before he was arrested and imprisoned for crimes: a prosecutor could get a ham sandwich indicted by the grand jury.  And I would add have it tried and convicted of whatever charge it was indicted for.  The same thing seems to be the case in Jesus’ time.  First, the charges against Jesus are vague.  We can’t help but wonder what exactly Jesus has been charged with.  So we read the “transcripts” carefully.  We are told that many witnesses come forward, but their testimony is false.  It’s not even recorded, probably struck from the record, or not recorded for a reason….  One can’t help but think and believe that there’s a conspiracy, from the judge down to the court reporter, to deny due process of law, fundamental fairness, that is, justice, whether or not one is guilty or innocent.  It may be the same thing in Jesus’ case.  We may not have crucial testimony because someone said not to record it.

Back to Jesus’ trial.  Two witnesses come forward, and there is some corroboration between their stories.  (Note that under Jewish law, at least two people had to testify against an accused.  This decreased the likelihood of false testimony being offered.  On the other hand, under our law, we can be convicted on the testimony of one person, which increases the likelihood of false testimony being offered by an interested or aggrieved party.)  These two witnesses at Jesus’ trial say that Jesus said something about destroying the temple and rebuilding it.  This is the only evidence against Jesus.  Even though Jesus is being framed from the very beginning, this is not enough evidence to convict him of a crime.  What crime has been proven?

Now, you know how there’s a dramatic moment in movie trials?  Well, there’s a dramatic moment at the trial of Jesus.  Up until this point the witnesses haven’t provided any evidence to convict Jesus of anything.  All Jesus has to do is remain silent.  He doesn’t have a public defender to tell him this.  I mean, this is a case that even the worst public defender can win, hands down.  If Jesus remains silent he walks out of that courtroom scot-free.  It’s almost too good to be true, too good to believe, that a defendant accused of crimes in a criminal justice system where the cards are heavily stacked against him will win.  The high priest prosecutor knows this.  He is going to lose the case.  He is desperate.  There is no surprise witness to spring at the court at the last moment to bolster his case.  He has no more witnesses.  All he can do is hope that Jesus takes the stand.

Jesus, against the advice even the worst public defender would provide, takes the stand.  The high priest prosecutor puts Jesus under oath.  Envision it, Jesus taking the stand.  Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you?…

There’s no lengthy cross-examination, nothing leading up to the moment of truth.  The high priest prosecutor goes straight for the jugular.  Are you the Messiah? he asks.  Jesus answers in a roundabout way: “You have said so.”  The high priest prosecutor jumps at his chance.  Jesus’ answer becomes a yes.  This is how the system works.  “Blasphemy!” he shouts.  He knows that this “confession” is all he needs.  Stop the trial!  “Why do we still need witnesses?” he asks.  Render a verdict, not now, but right now.  Remember how I mentioned the power of the prosecutor to indict as well as try people?  Jesus is found guilty.  We know the rest of the story.  Jesus is given the death penalty, the cruel sanction of death on the cross, no appeal forthcoming.  He’ll be dead in a matter of hours.  Now that’s what I call swift justice!  If some of our lawmakers had their way, executions would be just as swift today.  Let us be thankful that absolutely everything doesn’t go their way.  Many more innocent people would be executed.  It’s a travesty that many innocent people spend years on death row as it is before they’re vindicated.  It’s a tragedy that many are never vindicated and spend years on death row before they’re executed.

Doesn’t this trial story sound familiar?  Jesus is arrested, tried, convicted, sentenced and condemned.  Sounds familiar yet?  Listen to the Word of God.  Jesus is betrayed by a co-defendant, Judas.  He sells Jesus out for thirty pieces of silver.  Sounds familiar?  Jesus suffers “police brutality”: “One of the police standing nearby struck Jesus on the face” (Jn 18:22).  Sounds familiar?  Peter, the person who says that he will stand with Jesus to the very end disavows any knowledge of him: “I do not know this man.”  Peter says that twice after stating that he didn’t even know what the witnesses were talking about when they identified him as one of Jesus’ partners.  Sounds familiar?  Jesus stands before justice alone, without a public defender.   Sounds familiar?  Jesus is ridiculed, made mockery of, abused: “They spat on him and took the reed and struck him on the head.”  Sounds familiar?  If there was television in those days, you can bet Hard Copy or Inside Edition would have covered this sensational trial.  The trial of the century!  You can bet they would have made sport of Jesus in the way that the tabloid press does.  The King of the Jews wearing a crown of thorns!  They wouldn’t have known that this trial would change the course of history!

I’ve been focusing on the trial of Jesus, but he’s not the only one on trial.  Judas is on trial.  He’s guilty as sin, commits suicide for his crime of betrayal.  Peter is on trial.  He’s guilty as sin.  He wept for his denial of and abandonment of Jesus.  Caiaphas, the high priest prosecutor, is on trial.  He’s guilty as sin.  From the very beginning he was looking for false testimony to try Jesus, whom he knew to be innocent of any crime.  Pontus Pilate is on trial.  He’s guilty as sin.  Against his better judgment, he let an innocent man be crucified.  All of the people who shout, “Let Jesus be crucified!” are on trial.  The soldiers who make sport of Jesus are on trial.  Who in this whole bunch is without guilt?  They have all judged Jesus.  Who in this room hasn’t been judged harshly or unfairly?  Who hasn’t judged?  Who hasn’t judged harshly or unfairly?  Remember, we are told: “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.  For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get” (Mt 8:1).  And we know, what goes around comes around.  Don’t we know that?  That’s the hand of providence at work.

We also know that the death of Jesus isn’t the end of the story.  In fact, it’s the very beginning, the very beginning of the story of Christianity, which springs from the criminal justice system of Jesus’ day, which led to the cross….

Jesus is on the cross.  It’s a dark day for humanity.  It’s a dark day for justice.  It is recorded, “from noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon” (Mt 27:45).  Haven’t we all had one of those dark days?  Haven’t we?  It’s a day of utter despair.  It’s a day where we are ready to give up hope….  Even Jesus experiences this dark day where his faith is put to the test.  Jesus seems to give up hope around 3 o’clock, and Matthew is bold enough to tell us his last words: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Mt 27:46)?  My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Jesus dies on the cross.  He is laid in a tomb.  But that’s not the end of the story.  Now the cover-up begins.  Once people have been condemned by the criminal justice system, the people responsible for convictions, in the name of the State, do everything within their power to have people executed or kept imprisoned.  Any form of vindication becomes nearly impossible; likewise redemption, because it would undermine the system.  Check out what the chief priest and the Pharisees, the people chiefly responsible for Jesus’ crucifixion, do in order to uphold what they’ve done.  They go before Pilate.  They say, “Sir, we remember what that imposter said while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’  Therefore command the tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise his disciples may go and steal him away, and tell the people, ‘he has been raised from the dead,’ and the last deception would be worse than the first.”  The last deception would be worse than the first.

If Jesus was an imposter, why were the chief priests and the Pharisees so concerned?  Who’s practicing deception here?

Soldiers are sent to guard and secure Jesus’ tomb.  But that’s not the end of the story.  Jesus appealed His case to a higher authority.  If we depended on the authority or goodwill of man, we would be arrested, tried, convicted and condemned so swiftly we wouldn’t know what happened.  Our cases would go unreported.  There must be a higher authority we can appeal to.  Jesus appealed his case to a higher authority.  His God hadn’t forsaken him!  There is the resurrection.  Jesus rises.  He rises.

Now, we can appeal our cases to a higher authority, and rise from the depths of despair to a glorious daybreak, a day of new beginnings.  We can rise.

 * This sermon is based on Matthew 26:57-68.

 

Posted in Justice Chronicles, Murder, Religion, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Andrew the Ambitious

Posted on April 3, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

Nearly two months ago, when Andrew Cuomo, New York’s Governor, announced that he would use public money to finance higher education in prison, in some quarters people thought that the state was finally wising up and was going to be “smart on crime” as opposed to “tough.”  With opposition, mostly from the Republican-controlled State Senate and its constituents, people in upstate New York who, for the most part, benefit from prisons, Cuomo backed down and said he would no longer use public money to finance higher education in prison.

 

Years ago, when his father was Governor of New York State, I dubbed him Mario the Magician for his sleight-of-hand, using money from the Urban Development Corporation (UDC), which was tasked to build affordable housing for the poor in urban areas, to build prisons in upstate rural New York.  Note that New York voters had rejected a proposition to build more prisons with public money – thus this end around the will of the voters and the use of UDC monies to build prisons.  Since his son became Governor, I have been looking for a tag to place on him.  Since he has done nothing in office to date that stands out or distinguishes him from other Governors, not even George Pataki, who was misguided but at least had a platform, I have been unable to tag him.  I mean, he has produced a couple of on time budgets, but that’s what we expect.  Even in backing down from publicly financing higher education in prison, he somehow took a stand that providing such for people in prison was the smart and the right thing.  Thus, I don’t want to say he’s ambivalent about this, only how to finance it.  He did though show courage in closing prisons we no longer needed.  Still, that was a no-brainer.  It is common knowledge that Cuomo the Second is ambitious.  Since I feel like it is time to tag him, despite the fact that nothing distinguishes him and his administration, and since I can only think of one thing, I will tag him Andrew the Ambitious.

Posted in Education, Justice Chronicles, Politics, Reentry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

No Right More Basic Than the Right to Vote

Posted on April 3, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

In the recent U.S. Supreme Court decision on political campaign contributions, McCutcheon V. FEC, Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. wrote, “There is no right in our democracy more basic than the right to participate in electing our political leaders.”

I would like to remind the Chief Judge that there are tens of thousands of people convicted of felonies, who have served their time (paid this debt to society), who work and pay taxes, who are forever banned from voting, not to mention the tens of thousands currently on parole who are working and paying taxes, who cannot vote in the states, including New York, where voting rights are automatically restored upon completion of sentence.  I need to repeat that these citizens who cannot vote are working and paying taxes.  Once upon a time this country set in motion a Revolution for this very same reason, stating that it was not right to tax someone and not allow that individual to vote – “No taxation without representation!”

“There is no right…more basic than the right to [vote]…”

Posted in Justice Chronicles, Politics, Reentry, Revolution | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“I swear I wanna lock him up. I swear I wanna lock him up.”

Posted on March 27, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

The U.S. has trained its citizens well into buying into the myth that the criminal justice system, that locking people up, is a panacea for crime, and for other social ills.  Earlier today I overheard a woman talking on her cell phone using this refrain: “I swear I wanna lock him up.  I swear I wanna lock him up.”  I don’t know why she wants this individual locked up, or what he has done that might warrant being locked up.”  I do know though that oftentimes people look to the criminal justice system, to locking people up, as their first response, and not just to crime.

Working with people impacted by the criminal justice system, and knowing countless people impacted by the criminal justice system, of having been locked up, there is this recurring theme: women in intimate relationships with men who have been in prison, who are on or off parole, will use that fact against them in cases where the only “crime” that happened was he broke their heart.  I want to talk about one case in particular.

A young man spend about 20 years in prison, having been imprisoned as a teenager. He gets out, had married his childhood sweetheart while they were in prison.  Unlike most prison marriages, this was not a marriage of convenience.  They had previous history, that is, they knew each other before his imprisonment.  While he was in prison he had conjugal visits, from which they had two children.  This was a young man who truly cared about his family.  In any event, he’s released from prison.  Parole does not let him live with his wife, so he has to go live with his mother.  A couple of months pass before Parole allows him to change his residence and live with his wife and children.  Things quickly go wrong in Paradise.  Although they did everything humanly possible to be a family while he was in prison, still, they lived parallel lives.  While he was in prison, his wife raised the kids.  They were used to her parenting style.  He joins his family and immediately assumes the role of father and provider.  The oldest, a girl, a teenager, immediately has problems with his parenting style, with his restrictions, calls him a “drill sargeant.”  He is highly disciplined, in part as a result of more than two decades of imprisonment.  What he doesn’t realize is that, in his absence, the family had roles.  He couldn’t return and state his role and impose it on them.

In any event, he and his wife separates.  He becomes involved with other women.  The first knows about his criminal justice status.  He is on parole, after having spent more than two decades in prison.  He’s a good man who needs to find his way in this world after living in the world of prison.  She falls in love with him, and they have many good moments together.  About two years into their relationship, things are not as good between them.  There is another woman, but there are also things between them.  She wants to control him.  He wants to be free, despite being on parole.  One thing leads to another, that is, he breaks up with her.  She tries everything in her power to reconcile, but he has moved on with another woman.  She calls his parole officer, tells her that he hit her.  He is instructed to immediately report to the parole office to see his parole officer.  Despite the fact that he is doing well otherwise, that is, professionally, and nothing like this has come up the four years he has been on parole, his parole officer is ready to lock him up.  Who knows what was going on in his ex-girlfriend’s mind to call in Parole.  She realizes that they are going to lock him up, and that’s not what she wants.  She wants him back.  She confesses to Parole that he never hit her, that he broke up with her and broke her heart.  At this point the Field Parole Officer’s supervisor, a male, is brought in.  The ex-girlfriend is very attractive, and the Senior Parole Officer hits on her, tells her that this is a problem with many men who have been in prison, they don’t know how to treat or appreciate a good woman.  He tells her that he’s heard this story many times, and that the women have second thoughts or regrets, and recant.  She tells him that truly, her ex hasn’t hit her, only broke her heart.  Parole still wants to lock him up.  She says she would not cooperate in any shape, form or fashion in locking him up.

This individual was one of the lucky ones, in that he wasn’t locked up for a technical parole violation.  This is a serious problem with Parole.  Parole doesn’t give such men the benefit of the doubt, and women who make accusations against them know this. This all stems back to the fact that the U.S. has trained its citizens to call in law enforcement, to lock people up, even when they haven’t done anything to warrant being locked up.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Comparison of New York State Laws and Regulations and Slave Codes

Posted on February 21, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

A number of years ago, long before Michelle Alexander’s “The New Jim Crow,” while doing research for an essay entitled “From the Plantation to the Penitentiary,” I came across some striking similarities between New York Laws and Slave Codes.

From the Correction Law, Section 170, subdivision (1), one reads:

“Contracts prohibited.  The commissioner of correction shall not, nor shall any other authority whatsoever, make any contract by which the labor or time of any prisoner in any state prison, reformatory, penitentiary or jail in this state, or the product or profit of his work, shall be contracted, let, farmed out, given or sold to any person, firm, association or corporation; except that the convicts in said penal institutions may work for, and the products of their labor may be disposed of to, the state or any political division therefor or for or to any public institution owned or managed and controlled by the state, or any political division thereof.”

Slave Code, from Louisiana:

“The slave is incapable of making any kind of contract, except those which relate to his own emancipation.”

Slave Code, from Alabama:

“No master, overseer, or other person having the charge of a slave, must permit such slave to hire himself to another person, or to hire his own time, or to go at large, unless in a corporate town, by consent of the authorities thereof, evidenced by an ordinance of the corporation.”

Slave Code, from South Carolina:

“No owner, master or mistress of any slave…shall permit or suffer any of his, or her or their slaves to go and work out of their respective houses or families, without a ticket in writing under pain of forfeiting the sum of current money, for every such offence.”

From New York Standards of Inmate Behavior, 105.11:

“Religious services, speeches or addresses by inmates other than those approved by the Superintendent or designee are prohibited.”

Art. I, Section 1022 (Alabama):

“Any slave who preaches, exhorts, or harangues any assembly of slaves, or of slaves and free persons of color, without a license to preach or exhort from some religious society of the neighborhood, and in the presences of five slave-holders, must — be punished.”

From New York Standards of Inmate Behavior, 105.10:

“Unauthorized Assembly or Activity.  The unauthorized assembly of inmates in groups is prohibited.  The size of the group is determined by local policy [generally five people].”

Art. I, Section 1020 (Alabama):

“Not more than five male slaves shall assemble together at any place off the plantation, or place to which they belong, with or without passes or permits to be there, unless attended by the master or overseer of such slave, or unless such slaves are attending the public worship of God, held by white persons.”

These similarities between New York State Laws and Regulations, which are on the books today, and Slave Codes, are indeed striking.  So for those who think that we do not live in the dark shadows of slavery…

Posted in Justice Chronicles, Slavery | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Black Blood of Poetry

Posted on February 9, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

The King was dead

You joined the adults

Cried your eyes out

Didn’t know exactly why

Only that something catastrophic had happened

Something that’d set your people back fifty years

You couldn’t even go out to play

Maybe not for the next fifty years

Buildings were on fire

 

            Burn baby burn

 

It was like the Apocalypse

Like the end of time

Spoken about in church

The fire next time

 

            Burn baby burn

 

Our Black prince

Had already been assassinated

Who was next

Panthers were hunted and killed

Right on our city streets

Brothers were being sent to Nam

To fight a war that made no sense

While there was Civil Unrest

Right on our city streets

 

            Burn baby burn

 

Body bags

Were returning on planes

Along with pure heroin

Mothers aged overnight

Sobbed into folded flags

Kids shouted slogans

They didn’t understand

 

            Ungawa

            Black Power

            Destroy

            White boy

 

While Vietnam veterans

Nodded off into the night

 

            To die

            To sleep

            Perchance to dream

 

Napalm burning them in their nightmares

 

            Burn baby burn

 

Older bloods were disappearing

Later you’d learn

They’d been sent up the River

Into the heart of darkness

Their absence opened the Void

A Void so dark and so deep

Generations got lost

Some never returned

Others were still trying to return home

 

Bring the boys home

Bring them back alive

Bring the boys home

Bring them back alive

 

Black rage

White fright

 

Neon lights flashing

Flesh beckoning from street corners

Beautiful girls lost and turned out

Drug deals transacted on street corners

Three Card Monte con men

Hustling the larcenous

Even native New Yorkers

A sucker’s born every second

 

Battle lines had been drawn

But they were easy to cross

You could get lost

Between the moon and New York City

Between Brooklyn and 42nd Street

And never return home

 

Mind altering drugs

Misled you

Into believing that you were invincible

You dodged bullets

Or at least you thought so

Lived another day to tell your story

You refused to go to funerals

Faced death everyday

But wouldn’t look the Grim Reaper

In the eyes

When he/she was harmless

In a coffin

Ready to go six feet under

 

            Let the dead bury the dead

 

You’d never die

You’d never be sent up the River

The cops would never catch you

You’d learned the secrets

Of being an Invisible Man

You disappeared into apartments

While they chased phantoms on roofs

In the streets

You’d grab a girl’s hand

Tell her the truth

That you were a wanted man

And she’d want to save you

She’d guide you right by the police

Right before their very eyes

In plain view

As they say

And you laughed

Because every day you cheated death

You lived another day to tell your story

As long as no one could see you

You were free

Everything was permitted

Just don’t get caught

 

Even in the asphalt jungle

There were rules

Silence was golden

Everything said

Could be used against you

Even your silence

Because no story is ever left untold

Cops are the best storytellers

Just give them something to work with

A snitch

A rat

A codefendant to turn state’s evidence

A perjurer

Thank God there was no electric chair

Prosecutors have no qualms

About sending innocent men to their death

As long as they get their convictions

Building blocks for their careers

It’s strange

But the guilty go free

While the innocent become disillusioned

Sometimes they escape state-sponsored death

 

You’ve trod the same path

As the bloods before you

Was sent up the River

Despite your belief to the contrary

Found all the older bloods

You thought were missing in action

One good thing

Since they’d paved the way

And because they were responsible

For the road you took

Because they didn’t leave a road map

And you fell into the Void

Belatedly they taught you

All you didn’t know

Almost everything you needed to know

To live

To be

To become a part of history

History was living

 

You were reading history

You were reading

Malcolm X’s autobiography

While his killer was a few cells away

It was strange

You hadn’t come into consciousness

When the Black Prince was assassinated

But you met his assassin

Looked him in the eyes

Didn’t see the Grim Reaper

But a disillusioned old man

Praying to the same god

In a different way

You watched him

Wondered why he’d really killed

Perhaps he even wondered why

 

You played prison football

With panthers

Who’d been set up by the FBI

Later you’d’ see them

Vindicated and rich

On talk shows

Traveling to Africa

Sometimes there is justice

Belatedly

After a terrible price has been paid

 

But your journey had just begun

You are a Black Boy

A Native Son

Living Sonny’s Blues

You Cry I am

A Man-child in the Promised Land

You came down Mean streets

Aware

 

You traveled

Met people with invaluable lessons to teach

You’re inspired

By that trinity of freedom fighters

Nat Turner

Gabriel Prosser

And Denmark Vesey

 

You become wise enough to know

That you can’t live in the past

Only learn from it

Even though it could be conjured up twenty years later

Be used against you

But it was unchanging

This you know

And you must move on

Even if others

Would hogtie you to the past

 

You do battle with demons

Not blond-haired blue-eyes devils

But your own heart of darkness

You fight to break the chains

Of your miseducation as a Negro

Of psychological chains and images

Of the new slavery

Repackaged as Corrections

 

You read the dictionary

From A to Z

Emulating Malcolm X

Read the Bible

From Genesis to Revelation

Looking for secrets

You think of the dead King

And those 8th century B.C. prophets he admired

Of his assassination

On a Southern terrace

Of your tears

Of not being able to go out and play

Of rioting in the streets

Of dancing in the streets

Of the Apocalypse

The fire next time

 

            Burn baby burn

 

More than thirty years later

The ruins remain

War-ravaged urban areas forsaken

You wonder if there are new beginnings

If you’ll emerge from the darkness

Even recognize the light

 

You remember when the lights went out

 

Where were you

When the lights went out

In New York City

 

You were not afraid of the dark

You were bold

And only the bold ventured out into the night

And you were as bold as they came

If you were not afraid of the darkness

There was no reason to be afraid

Of anything

 

You learned that you could create yourself

Because you’d never been formed

The Void had only touched you

Not devoured you

Who you truly are

A Black Boy

A Native Son

Living Sonny’s Blues

You Cry I am

A Man-child in the Promised Land

You came down Mean Streets

Conscious

Aware

 

Your eyes are wide open

And no one

Absolutely no one

Can tell you lies

You found yourself in the blues

Cried out when you learned

Who you are

You didn’t boast

That you were a descendant

Of Kings and Queens

Because they’d been buried a long time ago

You know that as their blood weakened

Yours was infused with strength

The strength of survivors

There may be a drop of royal blood

Coursing through your veins

It had been spilt so many times

You doubted it

Need not take refuge in it

If it was there

Because the blood that coursed through you

Is the blood of survivors

You walk in the steps of your ancestors

Your hear their voices in your head

You will walk with this consciousness

This awareness

All the days of your life

Until you take your last breath

Someone will have to close your eyes

Because you’ll keep them wide open

Until you breathe your last breath

You’ll keep your eyes wide open

Until you breathe your last breath

Posted in Martin Luther King, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Preface to my book, “Black Shadows and through the White Looking Glass”

Posted on February 3, 2014 by William Eric Waters, aka Easy Waters

Preamble

 From slavery to freedom.

From pre-colonialism to post-modernism.

From revolution to reactionism.

From the War for Independence

            to the Civil War

From the slave enlistment bill

            to Selective Service.

From Articles of Confederation

            to the Confederacy.

From agrarianism to technocratism.

From pre-industrialization.

            to post-industrialization

 

From George Washington

            to George Bush.

From the birth of a nation

            to a kinder, gentler nation.

From Thomas Jefferson

            to William Jefferson Clinton.

From Democratic Republicanism

            to the New Democrats.

From honest Abe

            to tricky Dick

            to Slick Willie.

From preserving the Union

            to fighting a “lawless society”

            to establishing a New Covenant.

From Radical Republicanism

            to Roosevelt’s reign

            to Reaganism.

From Reconstruction

            to public works

            to trickle-down economics.

From the Welfare State

            to a Police State.

From the Do Nothing Party

            to the Freedom Now Party.

From New Deal Democrats

            to Dixiecrats.

From the Grand Old Party

            to the Great Society

            to this dialogue on race.

From the melting pot

            to multiculturalism.

From Jim Crow

            to the Rainbow Coalition.

From Griots to the Last Poets

From Phillis Wheatley

            to Gwendolyn Brooks.

From highly imitative        

            to Pulitzer Prize-winning poetry.

From Various Subjects, Religious and Moral

            to Annie Allen.

From Zora Neale Hurston

            to Toni Morrison.

From Their Eyes Were Watching God

            to Paradise.

From folklore

            to Nobel Laureate fiction.

From Mules and Men

            to Beloved.

From Richard Wright

            to James Baldwin

            to Walter Mosley.

From Native Son

            to “Sonny’s Blues”

            to A Devil in a Blue Dress.

From the Royal Family –

Count Basie, Duke Ellington

and Nat King Cole

            to the King of Pop.

From a Lady singing the blues

            to the Funky Divas.

From the Queen of Soul

            to Queen Latifah.

From Bojangles

            to M.C. Hammer

            to the Tap Dance Kid.

From Porgy and Bess

            to Jelly’s Last Jam.

From slave songs and spirituals

            to soul.

From delta blues

            to rhythm and blues.

From New Orleans jazz

            to Brass Construction.

From ragtime

            to rock ‘n’ roll

            to rap.

The gift of story and song.

From slavery

            to sharecropping.

From pickin’ cotton

            to hoeing fields.

From the farm

            to the factory.

From grapes of wrath

            to industrial traps.

From the plantation

            to the penitentiary.

From the old slavery

            to the new slavery.

From chattel slavery

            to the convict lease system

            to the chain gang

            to prisons for profit.

 

The gift of sweat and brawn.

From Africa to America.

From chains to the cross.

From a slave religion

            to a religion of salvation.

From segregated balconies

            to the front of the pews.

From hearing the Word

            to proclaiming it.

From making a way out of no way

            to leading the way.

The gift of the spirit.

The long shadows

of black history in America,

once hidden, often denied,

now revealed.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment