Victoria Law's Blog, page 9

stories from Seattle

I also took the opportunity to travel around and out of the city to meet with women who had experienced pregnancy while behind bars for WORTH's Birthing Behind Bars campaign. Some of the stories are horrifying, some are heartbreaking and still others are both.

I'm finally getting around to figuring out how to post them on the Birthing Behind Bars site. Today, I posted Kimberly's story. Kimberly was pregnant while in jail, then prison. She gave birth under tremendously oppressive conditions while in prison. She was denied entry to the prison's nursery program even though she was a model prisoner. (She also happened to be a Black prisoner.) She got out and went on to not only successfully fight for Washington State to pass anti-shackling legislation, but continues to support parents trying to reunite with their children as the coordinator of Parent to Parent.

You can watch her videos here:
Pregnancy and Birth Behind Bars in Washington State:
http://t.co/0idIA3rM

Sharing her story and pushing for (systemic) change:
http://t.co/2koutuPh

Supporting Others' Right to Family:
http://nationinside.org/campaign/birt...

If you agree that NO ONE should have to go through a pregnancy and birthing experience like Kimberly's, sign the Birthing Behind Bars pledge: http://org2.democracyinaction.org/o/6...

and then ask your friends, family and community members to do the same.

Feel free to repost this far and wide.

if you missed our panel at the Baltimore Book Festival

For those of you who weren't able to see our Don't Leave Your Friends Behind: Concrete Ways to Support Families in Social Justice Movements and Communities panel discussino at the Baltimore Bookfair, you can still see it here:

http://www.livestream.com/baltimorera...

We are, in order of speaking:

China Martens, my amazing co-editor

me

Monalisa Lennon Diallo a.k.a. Oluko Lumumba

Sine Hwang Jensen

and

Harriet Moon Smith

books!!

My books have arrived! Both the new edition of Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles of Incarcerated Women and Don't Leave Your Friends Behind: Concrete Ways to Support Families in Social Justice Movements and Communities arrived on Friday afternoon.

I didn't actually get to see them until last night though. I had had them shipped to a friend's house because her building has a management office that could sign for, and hold onto, the packages until I could hustle up help moving them. Having fractured my shoulder while biking in Hong Kong this past February, I wasn't eager to reinjure myself moving 135 pounds of books on my own, so I enlisted the assistance of a friend.

He wasn't available until last night. That was fine by me on Friday evening and even Saturday morning, but by 3 pm yesterday, I was getting antsy. My co-editor, China Martens, had already gotten her copies on Friday and had been texting me about how wonderful they looked. One of the anthology's contributors started texting me on Friday afternoon as to whether or not I'd gotten my books.

"Not yet," was my reply.

"Books now?" she asked less than 12 hours later.

"Not yet," was still my reply.

"Time goes SO slow when waiting for time (and the helpmate) to pick up my books!" I texted China at 4:02 pm. I tried to do some printing in the ABC No Rio darkroom, which I was monitoring that afternoon. But my mind was on those 4 boxes...

And then, finally, 7:30 rolled around, my helper showed up and off we went to pick up books. Four boxes equaling 135 pounds.

"Oh, that's like 2 sacks of potatoes," he commented. My friend, you see, works on farms.

He hauled the books all the way to my house. In return, he was the first person in NYC to get a copy of both books.

And then I was left alone with my books.

They are wonderful! It's fantastic to see the finished product, to hold it in my hands and to see what all those years of hard work actually *look* like.

If you're in NYC, there will be book release parties on October 6th (for Don't Leave Your Friends Behind: Concrete Ways to Support Families in Social Justice Movements and Communities) and on October 11th (for Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles of Incarcerated Women). Check the Events portion of my page for more details.

my early days (an interview with Art Fag City)

Over the summer, I did an interview with Art Fag City about my involvement at ABC No Rio. The intro mentions (and links to) both Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles of Incarcerated Women and Don't Leave Your Friends Behind: Concrete Ways to Support Families in Social Justice Movements and Communities as well as Books Through Bars--NYC.

So if you want to read me reminiscing about my late teen/early twenties learning by trial & error how to get things done, you can do so here:

http://www.artfagcity.com/2012/09/05/...

restoring media access to California's prisons

I've spent yesterday and today going over the proof of the 2nd edition of Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles of Incarcerated Women. I reread every single word that I wrote (and some of the typos that I unfortunately submitted the first time around) and was reminded of the power of the media to shame prison officials into halting injustices:

In 1999, Nightline aired a six-part series on conditions at California’s Valley State Prison for Women. After prisoner after prisoner told Nightline anchor Ted Koppel about being given a pelvic exam as “part of the treatment” for any ailment, including stomach problems or diabetes, Koppel asked the prison’s chief medical officer, Dr. Anthony DiDomenico, for an explanation.

“I’ve heard inmates tell me they would deliberately like to be examined. It’s the only male contact they get,” DiDomenico answered in front of the cameras. That DiDomenico made such a statement on network television demonstrates the belief that, no matter how egregious their actions, prison officials will not be held accountable. When a local TV news program aired DiDomenico’s statement, however, he was reassigned to a desk job in Sacramento and an investigation was begun.481 Without media coverage of this sexual misconduct, DiDomenico most likely would have stayed at his position. Prisoner advocacy organi- zation Legal Services for Prisoners with Children had been reporting the prisoners’ complaints about medical staf f’s sexual misconduct to the CDC for four years with no result. After the Nightline series aired, not only was DiDomenico reassigned, but a second doctor was relieved of his duties six months later. As of 2001, both doctors had been criminally indicted.

Today, a petition landed in my inbox. Assembly Bill 1270 restores the ability of journalists to conduct pre-arranged interviews with individual prisoners and to exchange confidential correspondence with them. It allows journalists to write down and record their conversations with people in prisons.

The bill has passed the Assembly and the Senate Public Safety Committee. The Department of Corrections is opposing AB 1270, saying it would cost too much money (in fact the costs are minor). Perhaps the CDCR is more concerned about what other inhumanities and injustices they might be forced to correct within its multi-billion dollar industry?

A petition is going around to voice support for allowing media access into prisons. Click here to sign:
http://signon.org/sign/let-the-light-...

always exciting to open the designed book!

We got the first draft of the designed insides of Don't Leave Your Friends Behind: Concrete Ways to Support Families in Social Justice Movements and Communities today. It looks fantastic!

It's super-exciting to get our manuscript, which we have worked so hard on. Our designer, Morgan Buck, has done a terrific job on it.

Now for the not-so-fun task of going through the design with a fine-tooth comb for a final proofing.

book going to printer!

I just got word that all of my additions and updates to the new edition of Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles of Incarcerated Women have been sent off to the printer.

Since I last updated the statistics back in the summer/fall of 2011 (in between cooking amazingly delicious East African vegan dishes), some of these have changed yet again. Some have been for the better: for instance, now SIXTEEN states instead of TEN states have some legislation limiting or banning the shackling of pregnant incarcerated people while in labor & delivery. (Come on Massachusetts and Georgia! You know you want to follow suit and pass that pending legislation!)

Some of the changes have been for the worse: an amazing media organization for women and girls (which had its own prison project focusing on gender & incarceration) has closed its doors from lack of funding. Other groups that have worked with people in prison have also disappeared off the radar. The number of people in prison continues to rise.

And some remain the same ol', same ol' horrifying reality: A 2010 survey of women’s prisons found that only eight states provided prenatal medical exams, that nineteen provided proper prenatal nutrition and that only seventeen provided screenings and treatments for high-risk pregnancies. (A 1993 survey found that fewer than half of women's prisons provided prenatal care, only 15% provided special diets and nutritional programs for pregnant prisoners, and only 11% provided postnatal counseling. A woman who contributed her experiences to the first edition of Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles Of Incarcerated Women and to Birthing Behind Bars told me that she was given no postnatal counseling to help her cope with being immediately separated from her newborn daughter.)

Yes, we have a way to go. But let's not be discouraged; let's celebrate our successes as yet stepping stones to achieving a world where we need no prisons, then continue talking, listening and acting.

Birthing Behind Bars: Fighting for Reproductive Justice for Women in Prison

(originally posted on Alternet)

"I never thought of advocating outside of prison. I just wanted to have some semblance of a normal life once I was released," stated Tina Reynolds, a mother and formerly incarcerated woman. Then she gave birth to her son while in prison for a parole violation:

"When I went into labor, my water broke. The van came to pick me up, I was shackled. Once I was in the van, I was handcuffed. I was taken to the hospital. The handcuffs were taken off, but the shackles weren’t. I walked to the wheelchair that they brought over to me and I sat in the wheelchair with shackles on me. They re-handcuffed me once I was in the wheelchair and took me up to the floor where women had their children.

"When I got there, I was handcuffed with one hand. At the last minute, before I gave birth, I was unshackled so that my feet were free. Then after I gave birth to him, the shackles went back on and the handcuffs stayed on while I held my son on my chest."

That treatment, she recalled later, was "the most egregious, dehumanizing, oppressive practice that I ever experienced while in prison." Her experience is standard procedure for the hundreds of women who enter jail or prison while pregnant each year.

Upon her release, Reynolds started WORTH, an organization of currently and formerly incarcerated women based in New York City, to give currently and formerly incarcerated women both a voice and a support system.

In 2009, Reynolds and other WORTH members took up the challenge of fighting for legislation to end the practice of shackling women while in labor in New York State. At rallies and other public events, formerly incarcerated women spoke about being pregnant while in jail and prison, being handcuffed and shackled while in labor, and being separated from their newborn babies almost immediately. Their stories drew public attention to the issue and put human faces to the pending legislation. That year, New York became the seventh state to limit the shackling of incarcerated women during birth and delivery.

Recognizing the power of women's individual stories to enact change, WORTH is launching Birthing Behind Bars, a project that not only collects stories from women nationwide who have experienced pregnancy while incarcerated, but also strengthens their capacity and ability to share their stories. Too often, issues of reproductive justice are separated from issues of incarceration. Birthing Behind Bars ties women's individual experiences to the broader issues of reproductive justice (or injustice) behind prison walls and helps push a state-by-state analysis of the intersections of reproductive justice and incarceration.

This past March, Arizona became the sixteenth state to pass anti-shackling legislation. Thirty-four states still have no legal protection for women who give birth while behind bars. In Georgia and in Massachusetts, formerly and currently incarcerated women, their advocates, and reproductive rights activists are currently pushing for legislation to prohibit the practice of shackling of incarcerated pregnant women during transport, labor, delivery and recovery. Stories of incarcerated women's pregnancies and birth experiences have proven to be powerful tools when educating the general public and confronting legislators to support such a bill.

In 1870, Julia Ward Howe, a feminist, abolitionist and author of The Battle Hymn of the Republic, issued a proclamation urging women to celebrate Mother's Day in the United States. For Howe, Mother's Day was not a holiday simply for breakfast in bed, cards and flowers—it was a call for women to shape their societies at the political level.

This Mother's Day, take a few minutes to reflect on the reality of women who give birth behind bars. Then take a few more minutes to find out how you can help shape a society where no woman ever has to give birth while in shackles and chains.

For more about Birthing Behind Bars, see: http://birthingbehindbars.org

Toward a Quiet Building of an All-Ages Revolution

(originally posted on the blog New Clear Vision)

It is Sunday afternoon. My daughter and I are at home. I am on my (borrowed) laptop in the kitchen, revising chapter forwards for Don’t Leave Your Friends Behind, an anthology on how to support parents and children in social justice movements that I am co-editing with the amazing “grandma of mama zines” China Martens. Garlic bubbles away into broth on the stove, filling the kitchen with warmth (and a very savory fragrance).

In the other room, my 11-year-old daughter is on her dad’s computer and on the phone at the same time. She is on a conference call/computer chat with the folks planning childcare to talk about the Big Kids’ track for this year’s Allied Media Conference. I am, thankfully, not part of the efforts to coordinate either the Kids’ Track or the Big Kids’ Track, but I do wonder how the conversation is going. I can hear my daughter’s fingers strike the keyboard as she enters her ideas into their group chatbox, but I hear her voice much less often.

While puzzling over how to succinctly sum up the gist of each chapter, fittingly on how movements and communities and individuals have supported the children and caregivers in their midst, my thoughts drift back to the event I attended last night: Angela Davis’s talk about prison abolition and a conversation between her and Mumia Abu-Jamal, who was allowed to call in to the event for an all-too-short fifteen minutes. Both talked about the case of Trayvon Martin, the role of racism and how media paints Black and Brown young men as immediate “criminals,” and then, finally, what to do about George Zimmerman if we don’t believe in the prison system. But what sticks with me about the event is not what was said during the course of the evening, but the interaction I had with a 20-month old and her mother near the bathrooms towards the end of the evening.

I had dashed off to the bathroom during the last part of the Q&A session. As I emerged from the bathroom, I encountered a grinning toddler and her mother. They were standing in the walkway between the main space and the bathrooms. I stooped to say hello to the grinning girl; she babbled at me in 20-month-old talk and flashed me a smile that showed off her four top teeth. We stood like that for a while, me prattling to her about how wonderful she was to allow her mother to sit through this event and her responding with her own words and thoughts, most of which I found hard to decipher. In between, I assured her mother that it does get easier (usually) as the child gets older. I told her that I’d also taken my daughter to talks when she was small; eleven years later, she complains that prisons are the most boring thing in the world, but she asks questions and challenges ways of thinking that escape most adults. “The questions that Angela Davis brought up about what justice for Trayvon Martin would look like without relying on policing and prisons is a question that my daughter’s been challenging me with for over a month,” I said. Having grown up in and around discussions of prisons, prisoner support and prison abolition (and having learned the word “obsolete” from reading it off the cover of Angela Davis’s Are Prisons Obsolete?), she sees the gaps that remain to be bridged between the rhetoric of a world without prisons and the reality of the world as it is right now, a world in which justice equals incarceration for George Zimmerman.

As I go through our chapter forwards with my digital red pen, I realize that what I feel is awe and amazement. Yes, I am in awe of what an amazing, strong girl-child I’ve raised. By being part of movements and communities that have welcomed her, that have included her in their discussions and activities, that have tried their best to answer her questions (an especial thank you to the radical librarians in our lives!), she’s grown into a ‘tween who can imagine — and help plan — the space she and her friends, as young women who have ideas and interests of their own, will inhabit over the course of a weekend.

And it reminds me, again, of how true Subcomandante Marcos’s words were in his Sixth Declaration of the Selva Lacandona:

“But it is not just the Zapatista villages that have grown — the EZLN has also grown. Because what has happened during this time is that new generations have renewed our entire organization. They have added new strength. The comandantes and comandantas who were in their maturity at the beginning of the uprising in 1994 now have the wisdom they gained in the war and in the twelve years of dialogue with thousands of men and women from throughout the world. The members of the CCRI, the Zapatista political-organizational leadership, is now counseling and directing the new ones who are entering our struggle, as well as those who are holding leadership positions. For some time now the “committees” (which is what we call them) have been preparing an entire new generation of comandantes and comandantas who, following a period of instruction and testing, are beginning to learn the work of organizational leadership and to discharge their duties. And it also so happens that our insurgents, insurgentas, militants, local and regional responsables, as well as support bases, who were youngsters at the beginning of the uprising, are now mature men and women, combat veterans and natural leaders in their units and communities. And those who were children in that January of ’94 are now young people who have grown up in the resistance, and they have been trained in the rebel dignity lifted up by their elders throughout these twelve years of war. These young people have a political, technical and cultural training that we who began the Zapatista movement did not have. This youth is now, more and more, sustaining our troops as well as leadership positions in the organization.”

And so, in our own very different ways on this Sunday afternoon, my daughter and I are both participating in the quiet building of a truly all-ages revolution to create the world that we want to live in.

Cover for 2nd edition!

For those of you who haven't heard, Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles Of Incarcerated Women is going into a second printing! The new edition, out in Fall 2012, will include not only updated statistics, but also two new chapters with MORE stories on resistance and organizing in women's prisons as well as transgender and transsexual women's actions to challenge their conditions of confinement.

AND it will have an exciting new cover designed by Josh MacPhee of JustSeeds.

I can't figure out how to post the image onto my blog, so you'll just have to go here to see it:

http://resistancebehindbars.org/node/256