WOMEN IN PRISON:
How 1 Is WiTH Us

ASSATA SHAKUR
PUBLISHED IN THE BLACK ScHoLAr, ArriL 1978
W st the bul pen We s sl black. Al estes. And we ae all fsezing

When we ask, the matron tells us that the heating system cannot be adjusted. All of
us, with the exception of a woman, tall and gaunt, who looks naked and ravished,
have refused the bologna sandwiches. The rest of s sit drinking bitter, syrupy tea
“The tall, fortyish woman, with sloping shoulders, moves her head back and forth to
the beat of a private tune while she takes small, tentative bites out a bologna
sandwich. Someone asks her what she's in for. Matter of factly, she says, "They say |
Killed some nigga. But how could I have when I'm buried down in South Carolina"?
Everybody's face gets busy exchanging looks. A short, stout young woman wearing
men's pants and men's shoes says, "Buried in South Carolina?” "Yeah," says the tall
woman. "South Carolina, that's where I'm buried. You don't know that? You don't
know shit, do you? This ain't me. This ain't me." She kept repeating, "This ain't me”
until she had caten all the bologna sandswiches. Then she brushed off the crumbs and
withdrew, head moving again, back into that world where only she could hear her
private tune.

Lucille comes to my tier to ask me how much time a "C" felony conviction carris. |
know, but i cannot say the words. I tell her i will look it up and bring the sentence
charts for her to sce. | know that she has just been convicted of manslaugher in the
second degree. | also know that she can be sentenced up to fifteen years. | knew from
what she had told me before that the District Attorney was willing to plea bargain:
Five years probation in exchange for a guilty plea to a lesser charge.

Her aveyer felt tht she had a case: specifcally, medical records which would prove
that she had suffered repeated physical injuris as the result o beatings by the
deceased and, a5 a result of those beatings, on the night of her arst her arm was
mutiated (she must stll wear a brace on ) and on of hr cars was partlly severed
in additon to other substantal injuries Her laeyer felt that her tesimony, when she
{00k thestand i hr own defense, would establish the fact tha not only had she been
repeatedly beaten by the deceased, but that on the night in queston he told her he
would kil her, viciously beat her and maled her with a knife. But ther is no sclf
defense in the state of New York,

The District Attorney made a big deal of the fact that she drank. And the jury,
affected by Lv. racism, "law and order”, petrified by crime and unimpressed with
Lucille as a "responsible citizen," convicted her. And i was the one who had to tell
her that she was facing fifteen years in prison while we both silently wondered what
would happen to the four teenage children that she had raised almost single-
handedly.

Spikey has short time, and it is evident, the day before she is to be released, that she
does not want to go home. She comes 1o the Bing (Administrative Segregation)
because she has received an infraction for fighting. Sitting in front of her cage and
talking to her i realize that the fight was a desperate, last ditch effort in hope that the

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prison would take away her "good days." She is in her late thirtics. Her hands are
swllen. Enormous. There are huge, open sores on her legs. She has about ten tecth
left. And her entire body is scarred and ashen. She has been on drugs about twenty
years. Her veins have collapsed. She has fibrosis cpilepsy and edema. She has not
Scen her three children in about cight years. She is ashamed to contact home because
she robbed and abused her mother so many fimes.

When we talk it is around the Christmas holidays and she tells me about her bad
Iuck. She tells me that she has spent the last four Christmases in jail and tells me how
happy she is to be going home. But i know that she has no where to go and that the
only "friends” she has in the world are here in jail. She tells me that the only rogret
she has about leaving is that she won't be singing in the choir at Christmas. As i talk
to her i wonder if she will be back. I tell her good by and wish her luck. Six days
later, through the prison grapevine, i hear that she is back. Just in time for the
Christmas show.

‘We are at sick call. We are waiting on wooden benches in a beige and orange room to
see the doctor. Two young women who look only mildly battered by life st wearing
pastel dresses and pointy-toed state shoes. (Wearing "state” is often a sign that the
wearer probably cannot afford to buy sncakers in commissary.) The two ar talking
about how well they were doing on the street. Eavesdropping, i find out that they
both have fine "old men” that love the mess out of them. I find out that their men
dress fly and wear some baad clothes and so do they. One has 40 pairs of shoes while
the other has 100 skirts. One has 2 suede and $ leather coats. The other has 7 sucdes.
and 3 leathers. One has 3 mink coats, a silver fox and a leopard. The other has 2
minks, a fox jacket, a floor length fox and a chinchilla. One has 4 diamond rings and
the other has 5. One lives in a duplex with a sunken tub and a sunken living room
with a water fall. The other describes a mansion with a revolving living room. I'm
relieved when my name s called. I had been siting there feeling very, very sad.

There are no criminals here at Riker's Island Correctional Institution for Women,
(New York), only victims. Most of the women (over 95%) are black and Puerto
Rican. Many were abused children. Most have been abused by men and all have
been abused by "the system.”

There are no big time gangsters here, no premeditated mass murderers, no
godmothers. There are no big time dope dealers, no kidnappers, no Watergate
women. There are virtually no women here charged with white collar crimes like
embezzling or fraud. Most of the women have drug related cases. Many are charged
as accessories 10 crimes committed by men. The major crimes that women here arc
charged with are prostitution, pick-pocketing, shop lifting, robbery and drugs.
Women who have prostitution cases or who are doing "fine” time make up a
substantial part of the short term population. The women see stealing or hustling as

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necessary for the survival of themselves or their children because jobs are scarce and
welfare is impossible to live on. One thing is clear: amerikan capitalism s in no way
threatened by the women in prison on Riker's Island.

One gets the impression, when first coming to Rikers Island that the architects
conceived of it as a prison modelled after a juvenile center. In the areas where
visitors usually pass there is plenty of glass and plenty of plants and flowers. The cell
blocks consist of two long corridors with cells on each side connected by a watch
room where the guards are stationed, called a bubble. Each corridor has a day room.
with a t.., tables, multi-colored chairs, a stove that doesn't work and a refrigerator.
There's a utilty room with a sink and a washer and dryer that do not work.

Instead of bars the cells have doors which are painted bright, optimistic colors with
slim glass observation pancls. The doors are controlled electronically by the guards
in the bubble. The cells are called rooms by everybody. They are fumished with a
cot, a closet, a desk, a chair, a plastic upholsiered headboard that opens for storage, a
small book case, a mirror, a sink and a toilet. The prison distributes brightly colored
bedspreads and throw rugs for a homey effect. There is a school area, a gym, a
carpeted auditorium, two inmate cafeterias and outside recreation areas that are used
during the summer months only.

The guards have successfully convinced most of the women that Rikers Island is
country club. They say that it is a playhouse compared to some other prisons
(especially male): a statement whose partial veracity is not predicated upon the
humanity of comection officials at Rikers Island, but, rather, by contrast 1o the
unbelievably barbaric conditions of other prisons. Many women are convinced that
they are, somehow, "getting over.” Some g0 so far as to reason that because they are
not doing hard time, they arcnt really in prison.

This image is further reinforced the pseudo-motherly attitude many of the guards; a
deception which all too often successfully reverts women children. The guards call
the women inmates by their first names. The women address the guards cither as
Officer, Mis --- or by nicknames, (Teddy Bear, Spanky, Aunt Louise, Squeeze, Sarge,
Black Beauty, Nutty Mahogany, etc.). Frequently, when a woman retums to Riker's
she will make the rounds, gleefully embracing her favorite guard: the prodigal
daughter returns.

If two women are having a debate about any given topic the argument will often be
solved by "asking the officer.” The guards are forever telling the women to "grow
up," t0 "act like ladies," to "behave" and to be "good girls." If an inmate is breaking
some minor rule like coming to say "hi" to her friend on another floor or locking in a
few minutes late, a guard will say, jokingly, "don't let me have to come down there
and beat your butt” It is not unusual to hear a guard tell a woman, "what you need is

s

a good spanking."” The tone is often motherly
“you know better than that"; or, "that's a good girl." And the women
accordingly. Some guards and inmates "play” together. One officers favorit
is taking off her belt and chasing her "girls" down the hall with it, smacking them on
the butt.

“didn't I tell you, young lady, to?" or,

But beneath the motherly veneer, the reality of guard life is ever present, Most of the
guards are black, usually from working class, upward bound, civil service oriented
backgrounds. They idenify with the middle class, have middle class values and are
extremely materialistic. They are not the most intelligent women in the world and
many are extremely limited.

Most are aware that there is no justice in the amerikan judicial system and that blacks
and Puerto Ricans are discriminated against in every facet of amerikan life. But, at
the same time, they are convinced that the system is somehow "lenient " To them, the
women in prison are "losers" who don't have enough sense to stay out of jail. Most
believe in the boot strap theory - anybody can "make it" if they try hard enough.
They congratulate themselves on their great accomplishments. In contrast to
themselves they see the inmate as ignorant, uncultured, self-destructive, weak-
minded and stupid. They ignore the fact that their dubious accomplishments are not
based on superior intelligence or effort, but only on chance and a civil service list.

Many guards hate and feel trapped by their jobs. The guard is exposed to a certam
amount of abuse from co-workers, from the brass as well as from inmates, ass
kissing, robotizing and mandatory overime. (It is common practice for guards to
work a double shift at least once a week.) But no matter how much they hate the
military structure, the infighting, the ugliness of their tasks, they are very aware of
how close they are to the welfare lines. If they were not working as guards most
would be underpaid or unemployed. Many would miss the feeling of superiority and
power as much as they would miss the money, especially the cruel, sadistic ones.

The guards are usually defensive about their jobs and indicate by their behavior that
they are not at all free from guilt. They repeatedly, compulsively say, as if to
convince themselves, "This is a job just like any other job." The more they say i the
more preposterous it scems.

The major topic of conversation here is drugs. Eighty percent of inmates have used
drugs when they were in the street. Getting high is usually the first thing a woman
says she's going 1o do when she gets out. In prison, as on the streets, an escapist
culture prevails. At least 50 percent of the prison population take some form of
psychotropic drug. Elaborate schemes to obtain contraband drugs are always in the
works

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Days are spent in pleasant distractions: soap operas, prison love affairs, card playing
and game playing. A tiny minority are seriously involved in academic pursuits or the
learning of skills. An even smaller minority attempt to study available law books.
There are no jail house lawyers and most of the women lack knowledge of even the
most rudimentary legal procedures. When asked what happened in court, or, what
their lawyers said, they cither don't know or don't remember. Feeling totally helpless
and totally railroaded @ woman will curse out her lawyer or the judge with litle
knowledge of what is being done or of what should be done. Most plead guilty,
whether they are guilty or not. The few who do go to trial usually have lawyers
appointed by the state and usually are convieted.

Here, the word lesbian seldom, if ever, is mentioned. Most, if not all, of the
homsexual relationships here involve role playing. The majority of relationships arc
cither asexual or semi-sexual. The absence of sexual consummation is only partially
explained by prison prohibition against any kind of sexual behavior. Basically the
women are not looking for sex. They are looking for love, for concem and
companionship. For relief from the overwhelming sense of isolation and solitude that
pervades cach of us.

Women who are "aggressive” or who play the masculine roles are referred to as
butches, bulldaggers or stud broads. They arc always in demand because they arc
always in the minority. Women who are "passive,” or who play feminine roles arc
referred to as foms. The butch-fem relationships are often oppressive, resembling the
most oppressive, exploitative aspect of a sexist society. It is typical to hear butches
threatening fems with physical violence and it is not uncommon for butches to
actually beat their "women.” Some butches consider themselves pimps and go with
the women who have the most commissary, the most contraband or the best outside
connections. They fecl they are a class above ordinary women which entitles them to
“respect.” They dictate to fems what they are to do and many insist the fems wash,
iron, sew and clean their cells for them. A butch will refer to another butch as "man."
Abutch who is well liked is known as "one of the fellas” by her peers

Once in prison changes in roles are common. Many women who are strictly
heterosexual in the street become butch in prison. "Fems" often create butches by
convincing an inmate that she would make a "cute butch.” About 80 percent of the
prison population engage in some form of homosexual relationship. Almost all
follow negative, stereotypic male female role models.

There is no connection between the women's movement and lesbianism. Most of the
women at Rikers Island have no idea what feminism is, let alone lesbianism.
Feminism, the women's liberation movement and the gay liberation movement are
worlds away from women at Riker’s

The black liberation struggle is equally removed from the lives of women at Riker's
While they verbalize acute recognition that amerika is a racist country where the
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poor are treated like dirt they, nevertheless, fecl responsible for the filth of their livs
The air at Riker's is permeated with self-hatred. Many women bear marks on their
ams, legs and wrists from suicide attempts or self-mutilation. They speak about
themselves in sclf-deprecating terms. They consider themselves failures.

While most women contend that whitey is responsible for their oppression they do
Rot examine the cause or source of that oppression. There is no sense of class
struggle. They have no sense of communism, no definition of it but they consider it
a bad thing. They do not want to destroy Rockefella. They want to be like him.
Nicky Bames, a major dope seller, is discussed with reverence. When he was
convicted practically everyone was sad. Many gave speeches about how kind, smart
and generous he was; no one spoke about the sale of drugs to our children.

Politicians are considered liars and crooks. The police are hated. Yet, during cop and
robber movies, some cheer loudly for the cops. One woman pasted photographs of
Farrah Fawcett Majors all over her cell because she "is a baad police bitch.” Kojak
and Barretta get their share of admiration.

A striking difference between women and men prisoners at Riker's Island is the
absence of revolutionary rhetoric among the women. We have no study groups. We
have no revolutionary literature around. There are no groups of militants attempting
to "get their heads together.” The women at Riker's scem vaguely aware of what
revolution is but generally regard it s an impossible dream. Not at all practical.

While men in prison struggle to maintain their manhood there is no comparable
struggle by women to preserve their womanhood. One frequently hears women say,
"Put a bunch of bitches together and you've got nothin but trouble"; and, "Women
don't stick together, that's why we don't have nothin.” Men prisoners constantly refer
o each other as brother. Women prisoners rarely refer to cach other as sister. Instead,
"bitch" and "whore" are the common terms of reference. Women, however, are much
kinder to cach other than men, and any form of violence other than a fist fight is
virtually unknown. Rape, murder and stabbings at the women's prison are non-
existent

For many, prison is not that much different from the street. I is, for some, a place to
rest and recuperate. For the prostitute prison s a vacation from turning tricks in the
rain and snow. A vacation from brutal pimps. Prison for the addict is a place o get
clean, get medical work done and gain weight. Ofien, when the habit becomes too
expensive, the addict gets herself busted, (usually subconsciously) so she can get
back in shape, leave with a clean system ready o start all over again. One woman
claims that for a month or two every year she cither goes jail or o the crazy house to
et away from her husband.

8
For many the cells are not much different from the tenements, the shooting galleri
and the welfare hotels they live in on the street. Sick call is no different from the
clinic or the hospital emergency room. The fights are the same except they are less
dangerous. The police are the same. The poverty is the same. The alienation is the
same. The racism is the same. The sexism is the same. The drugs are the same and
the system is the same. Rikers is just another institution. In childhood school was
their prison, or youth houses or reform schools or children shelters or foster homes or
mental hospitals or drug programs and they see all institutions as indifferent to their
needs, yet necessary to their survival.

The women at Riker's Island come there from places like Harlem, Brownsville,
Bedford-Stuyvesant, South Bronx and South Jamaica. They come from places where
dreams have been abandoned like the buildings. Where there is no more sense of
community. Where neighborhoods are transient. Where isolated people run from one
fire trap to another. The cities have removed us from our strengths, from our roots,
from our traditions. They have taken away our gardens and our swet potato pics and
given us MeDonalds. They have become our prisons, locking us into the futility and
decay of pissy hallways that lead nowhere. They have alicnated us from cach other
and made us fear cach other. They have given us dope and television as a culture.

There are no politicians to trust. No roads to follow. No popular progressive culture
o relate to. There are no new deals, no more promises of golden streets and no place
else to migrate. My sisters in the strets, ike my sisters at Riker's Island. sce no way
out. "Where can | go?”, said a woman on the day she was going home. "If there's
Rothing to believe in,"” she said, "l can't do nothin except try to find cloud nine."

‘What of our Past? What of our History? What of our Future?

1 can imagine the pain and the strength of my great great grandmothers who were
slaves and my great great grandmothers who were Cherokee Indians trapped on
reservations. | remembered my great grandmother who walked every where rather
than sitin the back of the bus. think about North Carolina and my home town and i
remember the women of my grandmother’s generation: strong, fierce women who
could stop you with a look out the comners of their eyes. Women who walked with
majesty; who could wring a chicken's neck and scale a fish. Who could pick cotton,
plant a garden and sew without a pattern. Women who boiled clothes white in big
black cauldrons and who hummed work songs and lullabys. Women who visited the
elderly, made soup for the sick and shortnin bread for the babies.

Women who delivered babies, searched for healing roots and brewed medicines.
Women who damed sox and chopped wood and layed bricks. Women who could
swim rivers and shoot the head off a snake. Women who took passionate
responsibility for their children and for their neighbors' children too.

9
The women in my grandmother’s generation made giving an art form. "Here, gal,
take this pot of collards to Sister Sue'; "Take this bag of pecans to school for the

"Stay here while 1 go tend Mister Johnson's leg." Every child in the
neighborhood ate in their kitchens. They called each other sister because of fecling
rather than s the result of a movement. They supported cach other through the lean
times, sharing the litle they had.

The women of my grandmother's generation in my home town trained their
daughters for womanhood. They taught them 10 give respect and to demand respect.
They taught their daughters how to chum butter; how to use clbow grease. They
taught their daughters to respect the strength of their bodies, to lft boulders and how
o kill a hog; what t0 o for colic, how 1o break a fever and how to make a pouliice,
patchwork quilts, plait hair and how to hum and sing. They taught their daughters to
take care, 1o take charge and to take responsibility. They would not tolerate a "lazy
heifer” or "gal with her head in the clouds.” Their daughters had to learn how to get
their lessons, how 1o survive, how 10 be strong. The women of my grandmother's
gencration were the glue that held family and the community together. They were the
backbone of the church. And of the school. They regarded outside institutions with
dislike and distrust. They were determined that their children should survive and they
were commilted to a better future.

1 think about my sisters in the movement. I remember the days when, draped in
African garb, we rejected our foremothers and ourselves as castrators. We did
penance for robbing the brother of his manhood, as if we were the oppressor. |
remember the days of the Panther Party when we were "moderately liberated.” When
we were allowed to wear pants and expected to pick up the gun. The days when we
gave doe-cyed looks to our leaders. The days when we worked like dogs and
struggled desperately for the respect which they struggled desperately not 1o give us.
I remember the black history classes that didn't mention women and the posters of
our "leaders” where women were conspicuously absent. We visited our sisters who
bore the complete responsibility of the children while the Brotha was doing his thing.
Or had moved on to bigger and better things.

Most of us rejected the white women's movement. Miss ann was still Miss ann to us
whether she bumed her bras or not. We could not muster sympathy for the fact that
she was trapped in her mansion and oppressed by her husband. We were, and still
are, in a much more terrible jail. We knew that our experiences as black women were
completely different from those of our sisters in the white women's movement. And
we had no desire to sit in some consciousness raising group with white women and
bare our souls.

‘Wonmen can never be free in a country that is not free. We can never be liberated in a
country where the institutions that control our lives are oppressive. We can never be
free while our men are oppressed. O while the amerikan government and amerikan
capitalism remain intact.

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But it is imperative to our struggle that we build a strong black women's movement,
Itis imperative that we, as black women, talk about the experiences that shaped us;
that we assess our strengths and weaknesses and define our own history. It is
imperative that we discuss positive ways to teach and socialize our children.

The poison and pollution of capitalist cities is choking us. We need the strong
medicine of our foremothers to make us well again. We need their medicines to give
us strength to fight and the drive to win. Under the guidance of Harriet Tubman and
Fannie Lou Hamer and all of our foremothers, let us rebuild a sense of community.
Let us rebuild the culture of giving and carry on the tradition of fierce determination
to move on closer to freedom,

Assata Shakur has been living in Cuba since 1986, afier escaping from prison where
she was serving a life sentence imposed in a highly disputed trial. Shakur was a
Black Panther then a Black Liberation Army (BLA) leader in the early ‘705, so she
was a target of the FBI's COINTELPRO operation. Shakur was captured in shoot-
out resulting from resistance to yet another "driving while black” police action in
1973 on the New Jersey State Turnpike. - This time a State Trooper was killed. Zayd
Shakur, traveling in the car with Shakur, was also killed.

The third person in the car, Sundiata Acol, is sill serving time over 30 years later
‘and has recently’ been denied parole for another 20 years. According 10 one of
Acoli's attorneys, Joan P. Gibbs, "Assata, at the time of her arrest, was ‘wanted" on
Jfederal and state charges in New York, all of which juries subsequently found her not
uilty of or were dismissed. ” As was later proved through medical forensics, Shakur
was wounded at the time of her capture by a cowardly shot from the rear; while she
had her hands up. She was given a paraffin test, which failed to reveal any
gunpowder residue, meaning it would have been hard for her to have fired a gun.
While recovering from her wounds, she was tortured at the hands of the State Police
Nazis (no hyperbole here, they were WIWII Nazis brought to America). She was
convicted by an all white jury in 1977 and sentenced to life in prison. Before her
daring escape from prison in 1979, Assata Shakur served a total of six years behind
bars where she would also give birth to her daughier Kakuya.

‘The Boston Anarchist Black Cross functions as the defensive arm of
local anarchist struggles. We work to forge an organized support network
for local activists in need and for folks behind bars. We seck the total
abolition of prisons and work on projects in support of this cause.

Boston ABC
PO Box 230152
Boston, MA 02123

bostonabe(@riseup.net
‘myspace.com/abcboston